The night was as thick as spilled ink.

A large flock of crows circled ominously above the Zhao Tai Hall, their harsh, sharp cries sending waves of unease in anyone who heard them.

Winter had come, and the palace was filled with a damp, cold darkness. The overpowering stench of rot and decay was permeating the air. Lian Simoon sat on the gamut, eyes closed, curled into as small a shape as she could manage.

Her chill illness was acting up again, and she could hardly move from the pain.

"Your Majesty, Your Majesty, they're here, someone's here..." Suddenly, the door to the sleeping hall burst open, and her only maid, Red Lotus, rushed in with a confused expression on her face.

Simoon opened her eyes with a start. The blanket slipped down to the floor, revealing her legs, twisted with pain. A large scar on her eye made her appear even more hideous and ferocious under the dim oil lamp.

"Who's here?" she asked with a tight whisper, her hand subconsciously cradling her swollen belly. Hidden away from the world for so long, her skin was as pale and dry as a wax statue. Tragedy had given her silver hair far too early for someone just past thirty.

"It's the emperor!” Red Lotus cried out in joy, tears streaming down her face. The queen had been confined to the distant Zhao Tai Hall, far away from the royal city, for a full eight months. She'd been living in perpetual darkness, scorned and tormented, her only hope was the emperor’s compassion.

Upon hearing this, a tremor ran through Simoon’s heart. Her expression was incredibly complex: joy, grief, pain.

"I saw it clearly - the emperor had brought a sedan and the royal doctors are with him. Your Majesty, the emperor must be showing compassion for the royal seed in your belly. You're going back to Chang Chun Palace..." Red Lotus mumbled through her tears, holding her cracked, swollen hands up to her face.

Slowly, Simoon forced herself to sit upright, nothing but a trembling whisper came out of her mouth. “Quickly, Red Lotus, bring me the copper mirror, help me with my makeup. Look at my clothes; they're so old, I don't know which is suitable to wear.”

“No need to fuss.” Just as Red Lotus turned, a cold voice rang out. Simoon’s eyes flickered, and she slowly lifted her gaze to the doorway. Her eyes grew red as she saw him.

There he was, just as she remembered - as handsome and determined as ever. He wore a bright yellow robe with a plated collar and narrow sleeves depicting intricate golden dragons. A belt adorned with gold, jade, and amber encircled his waist, giving him a radiant aura.

Eight months passed since their last rendezvous, and his regal authority had only grown stronger.

"Your Majesty..." Simoon croaked, her voice hoarse and dry, her heart riddled with scars.

"Get started." He said coldly, not responding to her.

Several armed guards obediently entered the room, rudely pressing her face-down onto the bed. She was unable to move, straining her body to prevent harm to the unborn child in her belly.

The lead guard and the royal physician stood nearby, their faces full of reluctance. Red Lotus knelt in fear, trembling violently.

"What...what are you doing?" It finally dawned on her. His intentions were not to bring her back to the palace, there was something else he was after.

"Elder Sister..." Then she heard another voice, as delicate as the first cry of a nightingale, as gentle as a breeze. The Imperial Noble Consort, Lian Shiyao, leisurely stepped towards Emperor Feng Qianyue, surrounded by the palace maids. She bestowed him a city-topping smile and rested her head tenderly on his shoulder.

Lian Shiyao, the unrecognized third daughter from the Prime Minister's mansion, the niece of the Nation's Protector, the Great General, Xiao Zhenhai, Feng Qianyue's most beloved Imperial Noble Consort, and the woman most favored in the Zhou Dynasty - she was also the woman who had meticulously plotted to take everything from her!