Jonathan stepped forward, his arms wrapping around me as he whispered in my ear, "Lana, she will only have a name, I promise. I only have you in my heart!" His voice was soft, almost pleading. "I was just hindered by her identity, you know... The dignity of the royal family cannot be compromised."

His warm breath grazed my ear, yet despite his words of comfort, my body trembled. Deep down, I knew he was right according to the rules of this world. To others, he was a loyal husband, a man caught in an unfortunate circumstance. He had indulged me, given me everything within his power. If I demanded more, I’d be seen as unreasonable—greedy, even.

***

Half a month later, Princess Hilton, fresh from her return to the court, hosted an Apricot Blossom Banquet, inviting all the noblewomen. The invitation in my hand was a clear message: I had to attend, even though I knew this was no ordinary gathering. It was a grand Banquet, a trap disguised as hospitality.

At the banquet, the air buzzed with sycophantic praises for the princess. Each woman seized the chance to ingratiate herself, using me as a pawn in their game of flattery.

"Madam Bridgerton, you should be grateful for the princess's kindness. If it were anyone else, you’d be divorced by now!" one of the women said smugly.

"Indeed! How fortunate you are to call the princess your sister," another added, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

They continued, relentless in their jabs. "Soon, the princess and her husband will live in the royal mansion and Madam Bridgerton will have plenty of free time."

Their words felt like sharp knives, each one aiming to diminish my worth. They spoke as though I was an afterthought, as if I no longer belonged in my own life.

"We’ve been so kind to remind her," someone chimed in. "Why hasn’t Madam Bridgerton expressed her gratitude?"

The whispers grew louder. "How can she be so at ease as the madam of the Bridgerton Family? Five years of marriage and still no child! Not only can she not bear a child, but she also fails to care for her husband properly..."

The insults came one after another, each more cutting than the last. I became the center of their scorn, a target for all to criticize. And Princess Hilton, sitting there with an air of hesitancy, seemed to relish in my humiliation. Her enjoyment was thinly veiled behind her delicate demeanor.

Two of her maids approached me, their faces cold and unfeeling. One of them pressed me down, forcing me to kneel before the princess. I stood tall, my pride refusing to give way. I wouldn't kneel.

The princess, surprised by my defiance, quickly put on a different face. She rose to her feet and hurried over, making a show of helping me up. "What are you doing?" she asked, feigning concern. "Madam Bridgerton entered the household before me and it’s I who should offer tea to her." She smiled, but there was something almost mocking in the gesture.

She grabbed a teacup, pressing it into my hand. The hot liquid spilled over, scalding my skin. Instinctively, I jerked my hand away and the teacup fell to the ground, shattering into pieces.

For a moment, the room fell silent. Every eye turned toward me, the tension thick enough to suffocate.

"Lana! What are you doing?" Jonathan's voice boomed across the room, breaking the stillness. He stepped forward, his expression stern. "My humble wife behaved inappropriately and offended the princess. I hope Your Highness will forgive her." His tone was measured, but it was clear he was cleaning up my mess, positioning himself as the mediator.

He turned to me, his voice more commanding this time. "Kneel down and apologize to the princess."

"Kneel down, quickly!" someone in the crowd shouted, echoing his demand.

Jonathan reached out, gripping my arm firmly. His strength was overwhelming and despite my efforts, I couldn’t resist. He pulled me down, forcing me to kneel. The impact of my knees hitting the floor sent a sharp pain through my body and I felt something inside me shatter—whether it was the teacup or my pride, I couldn't tell.

Jonathan sighed again, his voice heavy as he glanced at me in the dim light of the carriage. "Lana, she's a princess. So many eyes are watching—can't you just give in?" He spoke softly, yet his words stung. "Fortunately, she's magnanimous and hasn't made a fuss about it. Otherwise, you'd be guilty of offending royalty!"

He turned towards me, his expression a mix of disappointment and exasperation. "We've been married for so many years, yet you still act willfully and stubbornly."

I met his gaze, my voice cold. "So, you think I'm in the wrong too?"

"Lana, she's a princess. You should understand the difference. You could kneel to her as royalty, but she is still a concubine. Since when does the wife kneel to the concubine?" My words were sharp, biting through the air.

Jonathan shook his head, his face clouded with frustration. "You need to calm down." With that, he turned away, leaving the conversation hanging in the suffocating silence of the carriage.

My sister, having heard of my struggles, soon came to visit, trying to console me. "Lana, your husband loves you. Even with the princess in the house, she poses no real threat to you."

She paused for a moment before continuing, her tone softer but firm. "Besides, Princess Hilton is reasonable. If she wasn’t, you’d already be gone without a word."

Her words cut deeper. "Your husband has been facing repeated criticism from the emperor. Isn’t it clear why? He’s been under pressure, all for you! He’s done enough—you should be content."

I stood there, stunned by her words and finally nodded. "You're right, sister."

Taking a deep breath, I decided to visit Maria, my husband's mother, to pay my respects. But as I approached, I heard the sound of joyful laughter from inside the house.

"Quincy, eat more fish…" Maria's voice was warm and gentle and the child giggled in response, full of innocent delight.

Princess Hilton was sitting beside Jonathan, delicately placing a piece of roasted mutton on his plate. Jonathan had never liked mutton, but he didn’t refuse this time. He accepted it with a small smile and she followed with a bowl of hot soup for him.

It was a picture of the perfect family—everything Jonathan had always wanted.

My chest tightened at the sight. I couldn’t bear it any longer, so I fled, rushing back to my chambers. I couldn’t shake the image from my mind. Summoning my strength, I sent word for Roma, my cousin.

But before Roma could arrive, Jonathan stormed into the room, his face full of displeasure. "Why are you calling Roma? You're married now. It's improper for you to stay close to your cousin from your mother's side."

His eyes narrowed as he crossed the room. "When did you start using these tricks to provoke me?"

I looked up at him, my voice quiet but resolute. "I've been thinking these past days."

Jonathan's expression shifted slightly, softening as he waited for my next words.

"You’ve done all of this for the family, for its reputation, for its survival." I swallowed, steeling myself for what I was about to say. "I don’t want to make things difficult for you anymore. I willingly give up my position as your main wife."