Chapter 1
The Illegitimate Child/Emperor Wants A Bride
The air in the cellar-like servants' quarters of Count Demetrius's estate was perpetually cold, much like the hearts of the residents in the main house.
Anastasia, a girl whose existence was a stain on the family's carefully curated lineage, lay on the rough stone floor. The pain in her back was a familiar companion, a hot, searing agony that spread outward from recent lacerations.
"You disgusting brat, how dare you speak back to my mother?" Gwen spat, her pristine satin slippers only inches from Anastasia's face.
The daughter of the house looked down with casual malice. "You're just an illegitimate child."
A shadow fell over them. James, the eldest son, a man whose hands were far too accustomed to violence for a nobleman, held a whip.
"Anastasia, apologize to Mother this minute, and all will be forgiven," James said, a promise he never intended to keep.
Anastasia remained silent. She knew better.
Any words she offered would be twisted, used as further proof of her insolence. Mrs. Fiona, the picture of refined cruelty, merely watched from the doorway.
"James, please, there's no need for violence," Mrs. Fiona remarked, a theatrical performance for anyone who might be listening in the halls. It was a lie they all lived by.
"You have a good heart, Mother," James replied, buying the act. "She doesn't deserve your kindness."
He cracked the whip against the stone floor, close enough for the sound to make Anastasia flinch.
"She isn't allowed to eat anything tonight," Gwen decreed, her punishment a slight inconvenience.
James looked at Anastasia with utter disgust, a revulsion reserved for insects. "She cannot eat anything for a week."
They left the room, the heavy oak door thudding shut, locking Anastasia into the silence and the darkness.
For twenty-three years, Anastasia had been the Count's bastard child, treated as little more than a maid. No one had ever considered her part of the family.
Slowly, she pushed herself into a sitting position, her head swimming. She wiped a trickle of blood from her lips with the back of her wrist.
Her legs were numb; she couldn't remember how long James had whipped her this time. Hours blurred into a single, painful existence.
The door creaked open again. Hannah, the sole maid who showed her any kindness, slipped inside with a bucket of cold water and a coarse towel.
"It took longer than usual. I wonder who made him upset," Anastasia thought to herself, her mind distant from her pain.
"You must be out of your mind," Hannah whispered, her eyes wide with worry.
"That man almost killed you, and you wonder who made him upset?"
"I know James doesn't hate me, he's just stressed," Anastasia said with a weak, broken smile. She was delusional, perhaps, but hope was all she had left.
"You are more delusional than I had anticipated," Hannah said, carefully helping Anastasia wipe her wounds. The cold water stung, but it was a welcome distraction.
"I'm not allowed to eat for a week," Anastasia murmured, the reality of the punishment settling in.
Hannah could only remain silent. She was just a maid; any attempt to help or escape would only lead to a swifter capture by the Count's guards.
"You need to get dressed. The Count would be home soon," Hannah urged.
Anastasia got dressed in her usual attire: worn-out rags that smelled of lye soap and dust.
A horse-drawn carriage pulled up the long gravel drive, stopping in front of the formidable house.
"Father, you're back," James said, approaching Count Demetrius as he dismounted.
"Lad, you look like you crashed into a pig's farm. What seems to be the matter?" Count Demetrius asked, dusting off his own expensive attire.
"It's Anastasia. She insulted Mother. I had to deal with her myself," James stated calmly, the violence of the morning a simple chore.
Anastasia," Count Demetrius said, the name a non-entity, a mere inconvenience.
"You make her feel entitled, Father; that's why she doesn't know her place," James added.
"Since you have handled the issue, then I shall not interfere," he dismissed the matter.
"Mother has prepared dinner."
Inside, Countess Fiona served dinner at the grand dining table, completely devoid of Anastasia's presence.
"Father, I need some money," Gwen said, whining slightly.
"What do you need more money for, Gwen darling?"
"Well, Lady Genevieve, the most famous designer in the entire world, just created a masterpiece, and all my friends got theirs, and now I feel left out. It doesn't look good for your reputation. I heard people are spreading rumors that since I didn't get mine, that means the Count can't afford it."
The Count slammed his hands on the table in anger. "How dare they? For that, you can have three of her most expensive collections."
"Alright, Father, I'll do that first thing tomorrow," Gwen said, placated.
"Ahem, honey, how did the meeting with the Emperor go?" Fiona asked, steering the conversation to more important matters.
Demetrius sat up straighter, the mood shifting from petty luxury to icy politics.
"The Emperor has decided to get a bride."
"Really?" Fiona asked in surprise, her eyes wide.
"Yes... He wants a female from each noble family to attend a contest for the position of his Empress."
"That's shameless. Why would he do such a ridiculous thing?" James scoffed. "I thought the Emperor had someone he's interested in? Why would he then host a contest to find a bride?"
"It's all an act," Gwen cut in, bored again.
"At the end of the day, he is going to pick Luna, daughter of the Duke of Giadaville. Everyone knows that the Emperor is obsessed with her."
"You can't be too sure about that. You might just stand a chance in winning his heart," Fiona suggested, her ambitious nature always simmering near the surface.
"I'm not attending that stupid contest," Gwen declared.
"Why should I waste my time playing make-believe when I know I don't have a single chance of winning the Emperor? Besides, I have someone I love and I plan to spend the rest of my life with him."
"Do you mean that idiot from Montaubana?" James sneered.
"Damien isn't an idiot. He's the son of the Marquis of Montaubana, and we are madly in love," Gwen defended.
"If you don't go, the Emperor would have us punished," Demetrius said, the threat of Imperial power finally bringing fear to his face.
"I don't care! I am not going anywhere. Rumors have it that the Emperor eats every woman he ends up with. Do you want me to end up like them, or do you want me to be alive and happy?" Gwen demanded.
James leaned forward, the wheels of his manipulative mind turning.
"Think about it, Father. If Gwen marries this guy from Montaubana, it would do us good. I heard that his father is so close to the King of Montaubana that the King listens to his every advice. Imagine having that power, being able to manipulate his kingdom."
"Who would represent the family? If we don't present someone on behalf of the family, then we would all be dead," Fiona said, the fear real now.
"I have an idea," James said, a predatory grin spreading across his face.
"How about Anastasia goes in Gwen's place? They both look identical after all."
"Really? I haven't seen the resemblance before," Fiona said, studying Gwen.
"If Gwen can teach her how to be... you know... Gwen... then we'll be safe," James said, dismissing Anastasia's humanity entirely.
"What if she ends up with the Emperor?" Demetrius asked, a flicker of pragmatism in his cold eyes.
The Emperor was rumored to be a monster, a man of terrifying tastes and zero mercy.
"Please, you don't actually believe that the Emperor would fall for her?" James laughed darkly.
"This isn't some romantic novel from the library. As Gwen had said, the Emperor is in love with Luna, daughter of the Duke of Giadaville. If it so happens that he falls for Anastasia, then Gwen would come back to take over. Anastasia is disposable."
"That is a wonderful idea," Fiona said, her eyes gleaming with wicked intelligence. "Gwen, you can start teaching her how to become you."
"But Mother, do I have to?" Gwen pouted.
"Yes. We can't afford to have a single mistake. Besides, who better to teach her than the master herself?" Fiona praised her daughter, smoothing over her reluctance.
"Fine," Gwen said in disgust.
Hannah heard everything from her listening post in the hallway. Terrified, she ran back to Anastasia's dingy room.
"I don't predict leftovers tonight," Anastasia said quietly when Hannah entered, staring at the empty bucket.
"We have bigger problems than that," Hannah said in worry, closing the door tightly.
"Hannah? Is everything alright? You look panicked," Anastasia asked, concern for her friend overriding her own pain.
"They are planning to make you take Gwen's place," Hannah burst out.
"I don't understand."
"The Emperor's hosting a contest for a female from each noble family to become his wife," Hannah explained quickly.
"What does that have to do with me?" Anastasia asked, truly clueless to the monstrous plan unfolding above.
"Gwen has refused to attend. Now the Count wants you to go on her behalf. They need a body to put in the palace."
"Is that so?" she replied calmly, a dangerous glint entering her dull eyes.
"What do you mean by that? Aren't you supposed to be freaking out?" Hannah asked, bewildered by her friend's composure.
"It's quite the contrary. I'm happy, actually," Anastasia said, a genuine, chilling smile touching her bruised lips.
"I've finally gotten the break I so desperately needed. Don't you see? If I go to the palace, I'll be free. No one would be able to torture me anymore. I'll be able to eat decent meals and wear decent clothes."
"What if the Emperor finds out the truth?" Hannah asked, the practical fear of the scaffold looming in her mind.
"What's there to find out about?" Anastasia sighed, the pain fading into the background of a twisted opportunity.
"He requested a girl from each noble home, right? He didn't say the first or second or even an illegitimate child. He just asked for a girl, so I don't think I'll be in trouble."
"But you would be impersonating your sister," Hannah insisted.
"How about we worry about that one later?" Anastasia dismissed the danger, the sweet taste of freedom more potent than any fear of the rumored cannibal emperor.
"Right now we need to celebrate the great news."