On my wedding day, red silk draped the entire Princess's Residence. I sat on the bed, eagerly waiting for my beloved to lift my veil. But the one who lifted it wasn't a ceremonial scale. It was a bloodied sword. As we wed, my groom slaughtered my entire family to seize the throne, then sold me into the slave market in chains. My mother took her own life atop the imperial city wall to save me.
Years later, when the city fell and his forces scattered, he dropped to his knees and begged for mercy. The tip of my sword lifted his chin and struck his face. He followed the blade with his eyes, only then realizing I was the one holding it.
Behind me, the court officials cried out in unison: “We welcome Your Majesty the Empress to the throne!”
