
The Erotic Painting's Heroine Strikes Back
The Erotic Painting's Heroine Strikes Back Chapter 1
At the bride selection ball, the queen herself chose me to be the crown prince's consort.
Then my cousin Yvonne Johnson suddenly dropped to her knees in the middle of the hall and presented an erotic painting to the court.
The woman in the painting had no face, but the rose birthmark at my waist had been rendered in chilling detail.
Yvonne's eyes were red, her voice soft and cool. "I love my cousin dearly, but I can't deceive the queen. Your Majesty, please look closely. My cousin's virtue is compromised. She isn't fit to be the crown prince's consort."
In a single night, my reputation was destroyed. I became the most shameless woman in the capital.
Yvonne smiled at me, sweet as ever. "If your mother hadn't drawn your birthmark herself, no one would've believed that the eldest daughter of a duke's household would do something so indecent."
My mother looked at me with an expression that held only resignation. "Your aunt once saved my life. I made a promise to Yvonne. I swore I'd give her the finest match in the world. But as long as you're here, you're in her way. Charlotte, my hands are tied."
The ground dropped out from under me. It was my mother who'd had that painting made. She'd destroyed my name, my future, all to help her favorite niece marry the crown prince.
Using my so-called disgrace as justification, she ordered me to hang myself. Meanwhile, my cousin married into the palace in glory, dressed in the gown and jewels that had been meant for me.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day of the bride selection ball.
"My lady, the rose birthmark on your waist is so pretty."
My maid, Lulu Smith's admiring voice floated over as she ladled water for my bath, and I jolted awake.
The warmth around me pulled me fully back to the present.
I had regressed. I was alive. I was still here, in my own bedroom, and the crown prince's bride selection ball hadn't even started yet.
My fingers found the birthmark on my waist. The suffocating feeling of being strangled to death with white silk by my own mother in my past life still lingered, cold and hopeless.
I looked at the sunlight outside the window and smiled faintly. Good. I was still alive. This time, no one was going to hurt me again.
I finished getting dressed and stepped outside. My cousin Yvonne Johnson and my mother were already seated in the carriage, waiting.
She wore a stunning gown, and my grandmother's jewelry set gleamed at her throat. That set had sat locked in my mother's chest for years. My grandmother had asked for it to be saved for me, more than once. My mother had never even let me look at it, always worried I'd damage something. And yet there it was, on Yvonne's neck.
Yvonne caught my eye and smiled smugly. "Aunt Madeline said the set suits me perfectly, so she gave it to me. You're not upset, are you?"
I shook my head. My mother's favoritism toward Yvonne was nothing new. From the moment my cousin moved into our household, she came first in everything.
When it came to jewelry, she got first pick. New dresses made from the finest silks were sewn for her before anyone else. The largest, nicest courtyard was reserved for her.
Even the kitchen prepared meals according to her taste.
Yvonne watched me for a moment, then pressed a little further. "Charlotte, doesn't your father hope you'll be chosen as crown princess? You're so lucky to have a father who cares about you like that."
She paused, and her eyes went soft and glassy. "Not like me. Both my parents have gone so young. There's no one to look out for me or to make plans on my behalf."
My mother immediately pulled her close, wrapping both arms around her, dabbing at her tears with gentle hands. Then she looked up at me, her brow creased with open displeasure.
She said sharply, "Charlotte, what have I always taught you? You need to learn to be gracious and considerate. You know your cousin has no parents to love her, and still you say things to make her cry."
I met my mother's gaze and held it. I thought about my last life, about the cold, blank look on her face as she pulled the white silk cord tight around my throat. Then I looked at the soft, tender way she was cradling Yvonne.
I calmly said, "Mom, I haven't said a single word since I got in this carriage. So how exactly did I make my cousin cry? You gave Grandma's jewelry set to her. I won't argue about that. You spoil her, and I know better than to complain. But Mom, I'm your daughter too. Even if you don't love me the same way, I'm only asking you to be fair."
The color drained from my mother's face, then flooded back all at once.
Yvonne shifted against my mother's side, her voice softening and growing fragile. "Aunt Madeline, please don't blame her. It's my fault. I'm too sensitive."
A single tear slipped from the corner of her eye. "Charlotte, if you want the set, I'll take it off the moment we get home tonight. Just let me wear it today, for Aunt Madeline's sake, okay?
"Please don't be upset. How about I give you the hairpin my mother left me?"
As she spoke, she removed the silver clip from her hair and reached out to put it in mine.
I turned my head, just slightly. "There's no need. If you like the set, you should wear it."
I paused. "Though I will mention, that set was made specifically for me by our grandmother. I was young when she passed, so I asked Mom to keep it safe. I imagine she simply forgot. Borrowing it for one day isn't a problem. Just remember to return it."
"Enough." My mother's voice cracked like a whip, sharp and furious. "That set was left to me by your grandmother. I'll give it to whoever I please."