
The Erotic Painting's Heroine Strikes Back
Chapter 2
"Charlotte, you've gone too far. Where's your dignity?"
I looked my mother in the eye. "You've spent years raising my cousin to be a proper lady, Mom. Shouldn't she be the one with dignity? So why is she the one taking what belongs to me? Isn't that what you'd call bad manners, Mom?"
She started to snap back, but Yvonne caught her arm and gave her a quick look. My mother swallowed her anger, let out a sharp huff, and turned her head away.
All the young women entering the palace today had been personally selected by the queen, daughters of the finest families in the land. Yvonne was the exception. Her invitation had been arranged by my mother, who'd used my father's name and connections to beg the favor of including her in the bride selection.
Once we were inside the palace, the queen invited everyone to walk freely through the gardens. The other girls spread out in small groups, laughing and chatting. I slipped away on my own.
Relying on memories from my past life, I headed toward a secluded corner of the royal garden. I knew an important figure would appear there.
The rear garden was quiet. With the crown prince choosing his consort today, nobody would come here. Everyone was gathered in the front garden instead, competing to outshine one another in hopes of catching the crown prince's eye.
Soon, I saw him.
A man in deep red stood beneath a bare winter tree, his attention fixed on the branches above him. He looked completely at peace. He had no idea he was about to be killed.
I caught a flash of movement from a distance. A poisoned arrow was flying straight toward him. Without thinking, I lunged forward.
"Watch out!"
My shout alerted the guards in the garden. An arrow from their side struck down the incoming one midair.
But in the rush, the hand warmer I was holding slipped from my grasp. The hot coals inside scattered across the ground.
I landed hard, my waist coming down directly onto the burning coals. The pain was so sharp that tears burst from my eyes.
The man grabbed me and pulled me up in one swift motion.
"Are you alright?"
The guards quickly subdued the assassin. Moments later, a wave of attendants came running from every direction, dropping to their knees across the garden path.
"Please forgive us, Your Highness."
It was the crown prince, Benjamin Winchester.
In my last life, he'd been ambushed here in the back garden, just before the bride selection began. No serious harm had come to him, but the queen had nearly canceled the entire event. This time, I'd made sure to arrive early. I was going to rewrite what happened.
Benjamin kept his hand on my arm, then turned sharply to the attendants behind him. "Get the royal physician. Now."
I'd dressed light on purpose that morning, nothing but a thin dress under my outer cloak. This moment was exactly what I'd planned for.
The fabric at my waist had already been burned through, the skin beneath raw and blistered. I gritted my teeth against the pain, cold sweat breaking out across my body.
"Your Highness, please don't trouble yourself. There are a lot of people moving through the palace today, and it's better not to make a scene. Just send for a female physician to apply some medicine for me."
Lulu came rushing over, her face white as a sheet. She grabbed my arm and dropped her voice to a frantic whisper.
"My lady, weren't you scared that arrow was going to hit you? You're burned this badly. What are you going to do at the selection ball? And when Madam Madeline sees you like this, she'll say you behaved disgracefully and embarrassed the family. And if you don't get chosen as crown princess..."
"Enough," I said sharply. "We're inside the palace. Watch your mouth."
I excused myself and walked away quickly, Lulu close behind.
I glanced back just once as I turned the corner. Benjamin was watching me go, and the worry on his face was plain.
I smiled slightly.
He was a good man, kind and fair. Even if he didn't choose me today, he wouldn't forget what I'd done. He would help me when I needed it.
I endured the pain as my burn was bandaged, then changed into a spare dress and hurried to the main hall.
Eleanor Lancaster, the queen, was presiding over the banquet. She was laughing and chatting warmly with the other consorts. After a little while, she turned to me with a smile and held out the golden rose she'd been holding.
"I've long heard that the daughter of the Duke of Northwatch is gracious, well-mannered, and composed," she said.
"Seeing you today, I believe every word. You please me greatly. The position of crown princess belongs to no one but you."
Every girl in the room was staring as I stepped forward and reached for the rose.
Then Yvonne walked out from the crowd and dropped to her knees in front of Eleanor.
"Your Majesty, please hear me. My cousin's reputation has been compromised. She is not fit to be the crown princess."
She held up a bound booklet with both hands. "When I was browsing a bookshop recently, I came across this. It was being sold openly. The illustrations inside are deeply improper, and the woman depicted in them is my cousin."
It was an erotic picture book. The woman's face was never shown, yet her poses were overtly seductive, and a rose-shaped birthmark was on her waist.
Eleanor frowned. "What is this? How do you know the woman in these pictures is Charlotte?"
Yvonne's voice rang out clearly across the hall. "Because my cousin has the exact same rose birthmark on her waist."
The room erupted. Every pair of eyes turned toward me, and the looks on their faces said everything. One moment away from becoming Crown Princess, and now this. How could a woman with such a ruined reputation be the future crown princess?
I took one step forward, and my voice came out clear and hard.
"A birthmark in such a private place is a deeply personal thing. How would you know about it?"
I looked at her steadily. "You're my cousin, not sister, and we've never been close. So how exactly did you find out?"
Yvonne's face flushed deep red. "It was... it was Aunt Madeline who told me."
I scoffed. "A woman's reputation is everything. What kind of mother goes around telling people her own daughter's private secrets? Or is it that in my mother's eyes, you've always mattered more than me?"