Chapter 1

I was merely a consort in the Duke's household, but His Grace doted on his Duchess, disregarding all others. The Duchess, however, was consumed by her affection for the Duke, utterly neglecting the management of the inner court. Thus, the authority of the household slipped from her grasp, and I became the de facto mistress of the estate. Later, when the Duke first ascended to the throne as King, his loyal courtiers presented me as their choice for Queen. I, once a mere consort, became his Queen, taking my place at the heart of the royal court. And the proud Lady of the House, who had once looked down upon me, was relegated to the very position she despised: a lesser consort.

1

I entered the Duke’s household at the tender age of fourteen, just as His Grace, Duke Alaric, and Duchess Isolde celebrated their wedding. Their devotion was legendary, whispered about throughout the realm as a perfect romance. And I, I became the inconvenient shadow in that tale.

Duchess Isolde had no interest in worldly affairs, preferring to spend her days playing the lute and brewing teas with the Duke, lost in their affectionate world. Consequently, the household management fell to disarray. The Duke, left with no choice, entrusted the stewardship of the estate to me.

For three years, I meticulously managed the Duke’s sprawling estate. I made no mistakes; the servants below me held me in unwavering respect. This, ironically, displeased the Duchess. Whenever she found an idle moment, she would summon me to her chambers for a "dressing down." Her words were always veiled reminders: to know my place, to curb any ambitious thoughts. Thankfully, I had long grown accustomed to the Duchess's ways, and these years had passed with a surprising lack of major incident.

The Duchess was beautiful, but fiercely jealous. She had no tolerance for us, the Duke's consorts. Though the Duke was devoted, his position demanded he appease the Court and the noble houses. Each year, he would welcome new ladies into his household. Thus, we, the consorts, became the unwitting sacrifices to their legendary love.

Over four years, a steady stream of beauties entered the inner court. Each one vied fiercely for a share of the Duke's favor. And the Duke, in an effort to balance various political factions, despite his deep affection for the Duchess, still had to spend nights in other ladies' chambers. The Duchess, for her part, threw many a tantrum over this, but was ultimately powerless. With nowhere to direct her anger, she would, the following day, ruthlessly torment the consort who had shared the Duke's bed.

This typically didn't concern me, but one day, the Duchess's former nursemaid, now her personal attendant, tormented a consort so cruelly that the poor woman attempted to drown herself in the manor’s lake. Thankfully, she was rescued by the servants below, preventing a true tragedy. But that wasn't the end of it. The old nursemaid, relentless, employed tactics to prevent the consort's lady-in-waiting from calling a physician. The distraught lady-in-waiting, with no other recourse, came to me in the dead of night, weeping.

As I was entrusted by the Duke to manage the inner court, I could not allow a death to occur under my stewardship, providing ammunition for our rivals. So, I dispatched servants to summon a physician from outside the estate. This act completely alienated the old nursemaid. Over the years, I had caught her in several missteps, earning her deep resentment. The incident with the physician cemented her animosity towards me.

The Duchess was exceedingly proud and fiercely protective of her own. The very next day, she summoned me to her courtyard. Her lady-in-waiting said nothing, simply motioning for me to kneel in the courtyard. The courtyard gates stood open, and passing servants covertly whispered about my humiliated state. This was precisely the effect the Duchess desired; she aimed to publicly disgrace me, to make it known to all in the household who truly held authority. She was the Duchess, I was merely a consort; if she chose to punish me, I had no choice but to endure.

I knelt until midday, my head already swimming. Sweat soaked my gown, and my knees, at first aching, grew numb. Just as I felt I might faint, the old nursemaid approached with a basin of water and poured it all over me. My shivering form in the cold wind seemed to amuse her. A flicker of triumph crossed her eyes, though her face feigned remorse:

"Oh dear, this old woman's eyesight is failing! I didn't even see you here, Lady Seraphina! My deepest apologies."

Before I could answer, a lady-in-waiting from the Duchess’s chambers approached. She sighed dramatically. "Her Grace was suddenly afflicted with a terrible headache today and has just now fallen asleep. Lady Seraphina, you came all this way for nothing. You may return to your chambers."

I nodded, a polite smile on my face. The lady-in-waiting who had accompanied me, waiting outside the courtyard, immediately rushed in to help me up. Only when the Duchess’s servants had departed did she grit her teeth. "Lady Seraphina, the Duchess is too cruel!"

Looking at the tearful lady-in-waiting, I sighed. "Eleanor, mind your words." The inner court was the Duchess's domain. If she wished to torment me, she had countless ways to do so.

The consort's suicide attempt had caused too much commotion, and the Duke, of course, learned of it. He dispatched his retainers to question me, and the next day, he bestowed many valuable gifts upon the consort as compensation. The Duke's fondness for the Duchess, coupled with a lingering sense of guilt, meant he would never confront the Duchess over a mere consort. The matter was thus closed.

For the following days, the Duchess continued to invent various excuses to summon me to her courtyard to serve her. Whether it was to stand for hours as a lesson in decorum or to serve her meals, these were merely "polite" ways of tormenting me. I was not intimidated.

One day, the Duchess had just disciplined several unruly servants from the Duke’s personal retinue, and then commanded me to shell walnuts by hand for her. Just then, the Duke returned from his duties, and seeing me, he seemed surprised. I hastily hid my swollen, red hands under the table and bowed to him.

"Lady Seraphina was but a fourteen-year-old girl when she entered this household. Now she has grown so much." Though I was the Duke's consort, we rarely met over the years. If not for my competent management of the household, the Duke might not even remember my existence.

The Duchess, hearing the commotion, hurried from her chambers. Seeing me, she scoffed coldly. "Your Grace truly is affectionate. You said you would take me out to admire the flowers after your duties, but then you turn around and flirt with others. I suppose I'm just old and faded now, not worth a second glance."

"It was just a few words. Why are you making a fuss again?" The Duke sounded annoyed. With others present, he exercised considerable restraint. But his words only enraged the Duchess further. "What do you mean, fuss? Did I say something wrong?"

Thankfully, I knew my place. I quickly rose to excuse myself, to avoid being caught in their quarrel. The moment I stepped out of the room, I heard their argument erupt.

"What am I making a fuss about? What did you tell me that day? You said you would love only me your entire life. But now, what are all these women in your court? Is this how you love me?"

"Lady Isolde, can't you be more mature? Haven't I been good enough to you? You know my difficulties."

With that, the Duke seemed to smash a teacup. The old nursemaid rushed in from outside. As she passed me, she glared fiercely. I heard her trying to placate the Duchess from inside: "My Lady, how can you speak to His Grace like that? His Grace truly cares for you. Why are you so stubborn?" After that, there was only the sound of continuous weeping. I stopped listening, turned, and left the courtyard.

2

Not long after, that evening, everyone in the Duke's household knew that Duke Alaric and Duchess Isolde had quarreled. Consequently, the drunken Duke spent the night in the chambers of a serving girl renowned for her sweet singing. The commotion was said to be quite loud, water being called for late into the night. The next day, it was rumored the Duchess had smashed every ornament in her chambers.

The Duke's action was undoubtedly a harsh slap to her pride. She had always prided herself on possessing the Duke's complete devotion, believing that his stays in other consorts' chambers were always out of necessity. Now, she could no longer deceive herself. For a mere serving girl, the Duke had no political obligation; his presence could only be an act of genuine desire.

As a dutiful steward of the Duke's household, I petitioned His Grace to elevate the status of this beautiful singing girl. The Duke, still feeling a defiant pleasure, deemed it insufficient. He bestowed upon her a personal name, "Lady Melody," and granted her a separate private courtyard. Unsurprisingly, for the next few days, he continued to reside in Lady Melody's chambers.

It was said this greatly angered the Duchess, leading to a heated argument between the two. The Duchess, in front of the Duke, smashed the tokens of affection they had exchanged. And so, the two began a period of cold estrangement.

During this period of estrangement, the Duke frequented the chambers of various consorts. Lady Isolde, consumed by anger, had refused food for three days. The old nursemaid, desperate, took a royal seal to summon a royal physician. No sooner had the physician arrived than the Duke rushed to Lady Isolde’s courtyard. The two, naturally, shared a heartfelt reconciliation. The next day, news of Duke Alaric and Duchess Isolde's renewed harmony spread throughout the estate.

Meanwhile, Lady Melody, the talented singing girl, was pacing my courtyard, anxiously twisting a handkerchief. Seeing me, she hurried forward. "Sister, what should we do? The Duchess will surely beat me to death."

I picked up my teacup, took a sip, and replied nonchalantly, "Why the rush? Once a crack appears in their affections, we will have our opportunity." Though I did not love the Duke, I loved the power that came with managing this household. Perhaps people like me are the villainesses in those romantic ballads. But what choice did we, the obstacles in their love story, have but to survive?

Lady Melody had once been a servant in the Duchess's personal retinue. After the Duke had once praised her singing, the Duchess had her beaten and exiled to the kitchens. Seeing her beauty and discerning her sharp wit, I had lent her a hand.

3

Three days after the Duke and Duchess reconciled, the Duke departed on official duties. The Duchess seized this opportunity to strip me of my household management authority. Citing Her Majesty the Dowager Queen's poor health, she confined me to my chambers, ordering me to transcribe sacred texts for blessings and prayers. The consorts who had once flocked around me now scattered, fearing they might be implicated.

Lady Melody, however, secretly visited me one night, slipping me a substantial amount of silver. I estimated it to be about a hundred gold coins, likely her entire life savings. I was somewhat surprised. "My dear sister..."

Lady Melody’s eyes were red, but she smiled at me. "I'm probably doomed anyway, so it might as well benefit you."

I pondered for a long moment, then slowly spoke. "It's not entirely without a solution..."

Lady Melody visibly relaxed. "Sister, save me one more time. After this, I will be yours completely."

I smiled. "It can be arranged."

In the daytime, as I sat in my chambers, dressed in simple robes, transcribing scriptures, I could faintly hear mocking whispers from outside. Most were gloating, and the once-favored Lady Melody fared even worse. The Duchess, accusing her of disrespecting the Lady of the House, banished her to the scullery, where she was made to perform the roughest laundry duties.

The household was now managed by the Duchess’s personal attendant, Lady Iris, who had recently been elevated to consort status by the Duchess’s decree. After Lady Iris took charge, my treatment worsened considerably. Moldy food and tasteless teas became an unavoidable part of my daily routine. In my leisure time, I would occasionally find rats tossed into my chambers. As if this wasn't enough, she dismissed all my servants, leaving only Eleanor to attend to me. Eleanor would often weep whenever she saw me. I would simply comfort her. "Don't cry. These days will soon pass."

This time, the Duke was away on official duties for three months. Lady Iris, eager to curry favor with the Duchess, drastically cut the rations of the household servants, while crates of new gowns and jewels were delivered, one after another, to the Duchess's chambers. The servants were already reduced to eating dry bread, even the other consorts were not exempt. Their meals dwindled from four dishes and a soup to a single dish and a soup. Discontent filled the Duke's estate. Many who resisted were met with Lady Iris's lash.

When the Duke returned, his first stop was the Duchess's courtyard. He found her admiring herself in a new, flowing silk gown. Seeing the Duke, she fluttered into his arms like a butterfly. The two naturally shared a tender moment. It wasn't until the next morning, when he left the estate, that he noticed the servants all looked gaunt and weary. He joked, "Why do you all look like you haven't eaten?" The coachman merely smiled, saying nothing more.

Duke Alaric had performed a great service for the Crown and was richly rewarded by the King. After court, he received countless compliments from courtiers. He dismissed them all, eager to return home and share the good news with his beloved Duchess. While the Duke was beaming with triumph, his retinue outside the carriage looked utterly dejected.

Suddenly, an old man fell to his knees outside the carriage. The old man, tears streaming down his face, pleaded, "Your Grace, have mercy on this old servant! My wife is gravely ill at home. I beg you, pay me my wages for the past two months!" His familiar voice made the Duke lift the carriage curtain. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was an old servant who had been with him for many years. He was both shocked and angry. "Rise, Master Henry, and speak."

After a few questions, he learned that the old man had been dismissed from the Duke's household, on grounds of old age and infirmity, and that the household still owed him two months of wages. His first reaction was disbelief. How could a ducal household, of all places, stoop to such actions?

In the Duke's great hall, he stood with a silent, formidable aura. "Go, summon Lady Seraphina for me." The steward hesitated, then after a moment, said, "Your Grace, Lady Iris is currently managing the household."

Alaric rubbed his forehead. What other surprises did his Duchess have in store for him? "Then summon Lady Iris. And the Duchess!"

I was eating breakfast when the news arrived. With no household duties and being confined, I had grown quite relaxed. Eleanor chuckled. "The Duchess is likely to face some trouble this time!" Before I could reply, my door suddenly burst open. The old women who usually guarded my courtyard, loudly protesting, were now kneeling outside, a row of them, all trembling with fear. Each was utterly contrite. "Lady Seraphina, we were forced before, we deeply apologize for any offense!"

I didn't acknowledge their apologies. I simply put down my chopsticks and asked, "What's happening outside?"

"His Grace is disciplining Lady Iris in the great hall," one said. "He commanded us to bring you out first, Lady Seraphina."

I raised an eyebrow. "Understood. Eleanor, help me dress."

I arrived just as the Duchess was leaving. I bowed to her, and she, twisting her handkerchief, sneered. "Don't you dare look so pleased. As long as I am the Duchess, I will not tolerate your insolence!" I was still quite surprised; the Duchess was, after all, the first Lady of the House I had known who would so readily lower herself to quarrel with a group of consorts. I smiled, looking at her. "My Lady, the sun is strong. Be careful not to be sunburned." She glared at me dismissively and walked away.

When I entered, the Duke was examining the account books in the great hall. Normally, such tedious tasks would not fall to him, but the Duchess had caused him a monumental problem. The Duke put down the ledger, scrutinizing me for a long time. Then, he forced a stiff smile, politely saying that he regretted my suffering these past days. I merely smiled in response, which didn't stop him from continuing to speak.

"Lady Seraphina, from now on, the authority to manage this household will again be entrusted to you. The Duchess was pampered from a young age in her family and harbors no malice. Please do not take her actions too much to heart."

If it had been before, I would have said nothing. We, the consorts, were like dandelion fluff—favored and pitied by those in power, or abandoned if disliked. If the Lady of the House was not generous, there were countless ways to torment us.

"Though the Duchess harbors no malice, her casual displeasure alone causes those beneath her to make things difficult for us. We, the ladies below, those of us who maintain our dignity, might go hungry for a few meals. The less fortunate might even be publicly humiliated. I know Your Grace holds the Duchess in high esteem, and though the Duchess is protected by you, she too suffers grievances. But we, those beneath her, have no one to protect us, no power, no influence. We rely entirely on Your Grace and the Duchess. We beg Your Grace and the Duchess to have pity."

The Duke seemed astonished that I, usually so compliant and inconspicuous, would speak such words. He was silent for a long moment, then finally said, "It is my fault."

The compassion of those in power was precious and fleeting. I knelt before the Duke. "This consort has overstepped!"

He hastily helped me up. "Lady Seraphina, what nonsense are you speaking? Rise. I do not blame you."

Power was a wonderful thing. With power, no one could casually trample upon me. If I had said such things before, even if the Duke said nothing, the old matrons around him would have rushed over to slap me. Now, he would only compromise, for he needed me to clean up his messes.

On my first day back in power, I dealt with some cunning servants in the household. Thanks to Lady Iris's chaos, the lower servants finally realized my competence. After I took charge, they became surprisingly compliant. I looked at their submissive faces, smiling inwardly with satisfaction. Without Lady Iris, I would not have been able to deal with these cunning servants so smoothly.