Chapter 4

When I regained consciousness, I shuddered with excruciating pain before I could even figure out where I was.

"Krissy..." I looked up to see my father's face. He seemed more weathered than three years ago. He was the emperor, but now his face was etched with concern for his daughter and disdain for his unknown "son-in-law."

Although he was not a good husband to my mother for power, he was still the dearest to me. As I looked at him, my eyes reddened.

I had planned everything, but it didn't mean it was all my choice. I had to swallow the suffering, the grievances, and the pain I had experienced. Seeing my father at that moment, I couldn't help but feel heartbroken.

I had countless reasons for marrying Rhett, but it didn't mean I could hurt my father.

"I have failed you, Father," I said, crying as I tried to sit up, but he held me down.

He said, "Krissy, don't say such things. Just tell me who hurt you. I will take care of the matter."

"Father..." I paused, and my voice was hoarse. I held his hand.

My hands had been tender and well-maintained before I got married. Now they had grown rough from cooking and washing. They resembled that of an ordinary woman rather than a princess.

I felt him stiffen momentarily before he patted my hand reassuringly.

"Rhett... Rhett didn't mean to hurt me. It was that woman who forced him. She relied on her family's power to act tyrannically. She hit me. It had nothing to do with Rhett. He usually treats me well."

I struggled to speak through the pain, both physical and emotional. I choked on my words as I looked up at my father with a timid expression. I was completely different from the spoiled princess he saw three years ago.

Though my tears were genuine, my words were not. I sounded like I was defending Rhett, but my pitiful demeanor only pushed him further into the fire.

My father immediately understood I was referring to Rhett. Everyone knew Theresa was arrogant and domineering.

Everyone knew that Rhett would hold a grand wedding with Theresa.

Even my father had joked about Rhett's marriage at banquets, privately wary of the benefits it brought to the prime minister.

Yet, he never imagined the victim of that marriage would be his daughter, whose mother was his beloved woman, and she had thought of me on her deathbed.

Outwardly, my father remained calm. His face was still full of concern about me, and he comforted me, who looked heartbroken. But his eyes were cold and revealed his desire to tear Theresa and Rhett apart and ruin the prime minister's family.

I noticed his emotion and pretended not to see it and continued to cry. "It's my fault. It was my doing for not heeding your and my brother's advice, for hiding my identity and giving Theresa the chance to bully me..."

I kept crying. "Father, is my baby alright?"

I took out my hand to touch my abdomen, which was already flat. I looked at him like a prisoner who knew of his death sentence yet clung to hope.

"The doctors here are so skilled, and they must have saved my baby, right?" I sobbed, and my face was full of expectation.

My father turned his head away, and I understood his silent answer. I began to wail uncontrollably. I was no longer the composed princess I once was.

"Father... he... was so young. He... I, I..." I stammered. Regardless of the pain in my body, I raised my hands to see them empty. My sobs turned into uncontrollable cries. At that moment, I was like any mother who had lost her child, utterly helpless.

My father watched me in rare silence. After a long moment, he told me to take care of myself and repeatedly instructed the maids to look after me before leaving.

I knew I would never have a baby again. Theresa's kick ensured that I could never get pregnant again. I also knew my words had stabbed my father's heart like a knife.

In the beginning, I was just sad. But the subsequent tears of grievances, unwillingness, and the despair of losing my baby were all fake. If I hadn't pierced my father's heart, he would have seen through my act.

I had used my mother.

My mother was the late queen, and her relationship with my father was like a tale of unrequited love.

She had been a daughter of a fallen family, and my father had been a favored prince. They grew up together and were inseparable. My father won the battle for the throne.

My mother thought that after my father ascended the throne, her good days would come. But in fact, it wasn't the way she had thought.

My father accepted many other women for power. He broke his promise of lifelong fidelity to my mother. When my mother was framed by others, he didn't trust her. He even humiliated her during her illness. He started to dislike her. She became pregnant again after they had done it once.

I was five then and could remember something.

In my memories, life was hard back then. The situation of my mother's vast palace was less than that in prison. My brother and I were mistreated by those servants, bullied by other princes and nobles, forbidden to learn to read or write, even though my brother was nine.

My mother couldn't bear to see my brother and me buried in the palace. Despite being pregnant, she was on her knees before my father's palace for a day and a night. He never came to see her but had a happy time with his other women.

It rained heavily then, and my mother miscarried. She would never bear children again.

She grew more haggard and despondent.

My mother was very smart, but she lost herself in love and forgot herself in the illusory affection.

She regained consciousness on her deathbed and made secret plans. The schemes against her previously were not sophisticated. She could have easily cleared her name if she had been more articulate. But her mind was filled with love, and she cared only about her lover's feelings and never defended herself. After she regained clarity, she could clear her grievances.

I believe my father still loved her, or perhaps he had the flawed nature of men. He only cherished what was lost and ignored what he had.

After my mother revealed the truth behind the accusations against her, my father was filled with regret and tried everything to make it up to my mother and comfort her. But she died a few days later.

Her health had been poor since giving birth to me. After the miscarriage, she was terribly weak. It was remarkable that she lasted six months to set things right.

After her death, my father nearly went mad. He sank into despair for nearly two years before recovering. From then on, my good days began.

I resembled my mother greatly and was the only daughter among my father's many children. He practically spoiled me to the extreme.

I didn't have an official name before. My mother just called me with an affectionate nickname, Krissy.

After her death, I was given the formal name, Kristal Francis.

As a princess, my name bore something related to the imperial character.

The performance I just gave in front of my father reminded him of my mother's tragic loss of a baby and her subsequent infertility. Plus, I resembled my mother a lot. My father couldn't see the lack of genuine sadness in my eyes or the hidden mockery on my face.