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Once Promised to Be the Finest Novel Cover

Once Promised to Be the Finest

Deep within the palace, there was no soul unaware of the Seventh Prince Jason's devotion to the maid Nova. Once, he had solemnly vowed that if he ever became Crown Prince, she would be his principal consort. On the very day he first gained an audience with the Emperor, his foremost request was for permission to marry her. Though he knew full well the contempt he’d endured due to his own mother’s lowly origins as a maid, he stubbornly insisted on wedding a palace maid anyway—throwing the imperial court into an uproar. In those days, his eyes held only her. Yet, on the day he was officially named Crown Prince, he returned with a woman from another world: Kimberly. Spouting strange ideas about “equality for all,” she effortlessly won the adoration of every servant in the Crown Prince’s Palace. On her very first day, she took it upon herself to gather all the gold, silver, jewelry, and even the love tokens Jason had given Nova over the years—and distributed everything to the servants. “Since we all live under the same roof,” she declared, “we’re one family. We should share the wealth!” Nova’s eyes stung with furious tears. And Jason, standing beside her, turned a blind eye. Back when they could barely keep food on the table, he had forbidden her from selling even a single keepsake. Now, he let Kimberly give them all away. When Nova looked at him, her eyes brimming, he merely said calmly, “Kimberly has a point. This is how we win loyalty. As the future mistress here, you should lead by example.” Later, when assassins struck, Nova threw herself in front of Jason, taking a fatal arrow meant for his heart. In the chaos, a guard was also gravely wounded protecting his master. With only one life-saving pill left, Kimberly spoke up. “Isn’t a guard’s life a life too? Without this pill, his arm is ruined forever. But Miss Nova’s injury is too severe. Even if she takes it, she might not survive.” She gently took Jason’s hand, her voice soft and persuasive. “You understand, don’t you? Which choice truly wins hearts?” So Nova watched, helpless, as the pill that had nearly reached her lips was taken back by Jason. Tears streamed silently down her face as he met her gaze, cold and indifferent. “Kimberly is right. Public favor is everything—and so easily lost. You know better than anyone how hard this road has been for me. Today, whether you live or die is in fate’s hands.” With that, he turned and left with Kimberly. From a distance, his tender murmur reached her: “You are always so clever, Kimberly, easing my burdens at the most critical moment.” Watching their retreating figures, the pain in Nova’s chest became unbearable. More agonizing than the arrow wound was the gradual chilling of her heart. Her whole body grew cold, trembling, as she felt life slipping away. In her delirium, she remembered the days before Kimberly appeared. Back then, Jason was a discarded son whom everyone could bully. His mother’s lowly status as a maid meant he was overlooked by the Emperor and humiliated even by other palace servants. It was Nova who stole food to pull him back from death’s door when he lay dying. On her deathbed, his mother had personally entrusted him to Nova’s care. She taught him how to conduct himself before the Emperor, how to win imperial favor, how to survive in a palace that devoured the weak. So when he knelt before the throne to ask for her hand, she was terrified. “Have you lost your mind? You’ve finally earned the Emperor’s notice—now you want to throw it all away?” But he gazed at her, gentle yet intense. “I know the cost. But I promised I would marry you, Nova. If I become Crown Prince, you will be my Crown Princess. If I become Emperor, you *will* be my Empress.” “For now, I can only ask you to bear the shame of being my concubine.” That day, the Emperor’s wrath was terrible. Jason was beaten until his flesh was torn and bloody. Once again, he fell out of favor—yet he never showed a hint of regret. Ultimately, he proved his worth and regained the Emperor’s approval, earning a single concession: “Youthful folly. If in six months you still insist on this, I will permit it.” Before that half-year had passed, Jason brought Kimberly back to the Crown Prince’s Palace. The first time that woman laid eyes on Nova, she looked her up and down with an undisguised, appraising stare—one that felt deeply unsettling. “So you’re Jason’s concubine?” Her tone was flippant, a slight smile on her lips. “I heard you’ve pinned your entire existence on a man.”
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Chapter 2

Nova’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

Ever since Jason had been named Crown Prince, few had dared to look at her so boldly—let alone address him by name with such familiarity.

And there he stood, the Crown Prince himself, offering no correction.

Jason explained, “Kimberly comes from another world. Her ideas are novel, and she speaks plainly. She will be a great asset to my future, Nova. Please don’t take it to heart.”

Nova answered with only the faintest smile.

Later, when they were alone, she couldn’t hold back her concern. “Your Highness, how did you meet her? We have no way to verify her stories. Please, be careful. Don’t let her lead you into danger.”

He mistook her worry for jealousy.

“Nova, I thought you were more magnanimous than this. Between Kimberly and me, it is simply a matter of counsel. Do not speak of this again.”

Nova fell silent, telling herself to trust his judgment.

At first, Kimberly merely spoke strange, wondrous things that left everyone marveling.

Then she began promoting so-called “new systems,” and her first target was Nova.

Initially, Jason would intervene. “Nova is my future princess-consort. Is it so wrong for her to receive special consideration?”

But gradually, he laughed with Kimberly, played along with her antics, and his gaze toward her softened.

Deep down, Nova understood: Jason’s feelings for Kimberly had long surpassed those for a mere advisor.

Until that final betrayal—when, for a few words from that woman, he disregarded her very life.

Afterward, Nova lay quietly in her bed, unsure how long she had been unconscious.

When she finally woke, the imperial physician wiped his brow. “You’re awake at last… Had you not roused, His Highness might well have taken this humble official’s head.”

Her lips were bloodless. Conscious, yet her body felt markedly weaker than before.

That he still cared whether she lived or died—it surprised her.

But when she asked, “Where is His Highness now?” the palace servants avoided her eyes, stumbling over their words.

Once, the slightest headache would have brought him to her bedside.

She didn’t need them to say more. Her fists clenched slightly beneath the covers. She already knew.

In the bitter depths of winter, heavy snow fell.

Nova awoke from a feverish haze to a room bitterly cold.

She called softly for more charcoal, only to hear a servant whisper in reply, “Lady Kimberly said the charcoal for your chamber was wasteful. She had it taken away.”

Nova turned her head slightly, her voice barely audible. “His Highness… approved this?”

There was a time when every detail of her quarters required Jason’s personal attention.

She had urged him not to trouble himself, but he’d insisted. “If I cannot even care for you properly, how can I manage the affairs of state?”

Back then, newly ascendant, he had made it clear to all: Nova was not to be slighted.

Seeing the servant bow in silence, Nova forced her weakened body up and made her way out.

She finally found him in the kitchen.

There, the charcoal fire burned warmly. He sat side-by-side with Kimberly, sharing a bowl of some rare, warm concoction she called “spiced tea with milk.”

Kimberly held a spoon to his lips; he drank from it, smiling.

When he looked up and saw Nova, his smile froze, annoyance creasing his brow. “You’re awake—why aren’t you resting? What is the meaning of running about like this?”

Nova did not accuse. She merely forced a faint smile. “The room is too cold; I cannot bear it. I heard Your Highness approved Lady Kimberly’s order to remove the charcoal. I came to beg a favor.”

A flicker of guilt passed through Jason’s eyes. He was about to speak when Kimberly cut in.

“Lady Nova, you mustn’t be coddled. A little hardship fortifies the constitution. You’ll grow accustomed to the cold, and it will make you stronger.” She turned to Jason, her tone light. “Didn’t Your Highness just use that rare elixir to save a guard? Now everyone in the palace is singing your praises for your kindness. My method is for everyone’s good.”

Jason fell silent for a moment. Finally, he placed a hand lightly on Nova’s shoulder. “Kimberly speaks sense. It is for your own good. Go back now.”

Nova suddenly laughed.

She looked at this man who had once treasured her like a jewel, unable to believe he could utter such callous words.

She had not always been so vulnerable to the cold.

That year, when Jason had fallen from favor and lay ill, with no physician or medicine to be had, she had pleaded everywhere—to no avail. Finally, she stepped in front of a nobleman’s carriage, kneeling in the snow to beg. The man had looked down on her with disdain.

“Loyal servant, aren’t you.”

He pointed to the pond, its surface thinly iced over. “Jump in. Then I’ll grant you the medicine.”

She had stayed in the icy water until she nearly lost consciousness. Ever since, the chill had sunk into her bones—a permanent shiver she could never quite shake.

And back then, Jason, freezing himself, had wrapped his only thick cloak around her.

Now, everything had changed.

Two clear trails of tears slid silently down her cheeks. Softly, she asked, “Your Highness… is this truly your decision?”

The Jason before her now seemed to have forgotten it all, his voice thick with impatience. “Yes. You were a palace maid once. Since when are you so delicate? The others endure it. Why can’t you? Or is this not about the cold, but about Kimberly?”

A frigid wind swept through. Nova swayed, barely keeping her footing.

A violent cough wracked her. On her handkerchief, a vivid streak of crimson appeared.

She offered no further argument, turning to leave.

The walk back felt interminably long, each step crunching over the shattered memories of the past.

He had once hated nothing more than others mentioning his mother’s lowly origins as a maid. Now, he wielded that same blade against her.

But she had never been a mere maid.

If she were, how could she have helped him win the Emperor’s favor, step by step?

It had all been for a debt of gratitude.

The deadline was fast approaching. If he would not name her his rightful princess-consort by then…

she would be gone.

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