Queen in the Shadows

Chapter 1

Prologue

“Could you become my daughter?”

I shouldn’t have taken his hand.

Grand Duke France, the empire’s chancellor, was someone even the emperor couldn’t treat carelessly. Yes, he had influence, but that wasn’t why I’d been unable to refuse his request.

Lady Veronica had died of high fever, and I’d fallen for the claim that I was the only one who could take her place. After all, I looked just like her.

Back then, if I had refused, I could’ve avoided such a miserable death.

Now I just look ridiculous.

What was the point of reaching the top of society? Of being envied by noble daughters and courted by noble sons? What use did I have for flaunting dresses made by master craftsmen or wearing precious jewels?

What did it mean to be appointed the first consort, otherwise known as the queen?

These things were all meaningless now. The real Lady Veronica, who we had all thought to be dead, was actually alive and well. And since she had returned, nothing of mine existed in this world.

“This was your plan... from the beginning.”

Every time I uttered a rasping word, the sword embedded in my belly vibrated. My internal organs were all twisted; fresh blood flowed down, soaking my dress and pooling on the floor.

“Don’t resent me,” the Grand Duke said dryly. “I simply held out my hand. You were the one who took it.”

I scoffed at his clever way of placing the blame on me.

“It was a plan we prepared long ago,” added Veronica, who was standing next to him. “Since I was pretending to be dead, I needed a replacement. You did a very good job in the interim.”

I raised my head to peer at her.

Ah! It felt like I was looking in a mirror. Sorrow filled my heart when I realized that my death would clear the way for this woman to take my place. Not only would she assume the position of queen, but my child—the one born between His Majesty and me—would potentially end up calling Veronica “Mama.”

No, not potentially—my child would definitely be raised to do that. It was wickedly unfair, and I felt so crazed, so full of rage that tears started pouring from my eyes.

“Are you crying? Don’t be so sad. I’m more compassionate than I look. To commend you for all the work you’ve done, I’ll show you some consideration.”

Veronica gestured, and the knight standing in the back handed her a baby that was wrapped in silk. She showed me the sleeping child’s face, acting all the while like it was a courtesy.

“Baby,” Veronica cooed, “say your final goodbye to Mama. She’s going to die soon.”

“No!”

The baby woke up with a cry, and Veronica lifted his hand to wave at me. That image was crueler than any punishment a devil could think up.

“I-Ian!”

I crawled toward Veronica in a frantic, last-ditch effort. Even though I was struggling with the pain of the metal rupturing my internal organs, I couldn't stop. My precious son... I felt like I was losing my mind as I watched him in that woman’s arms.

“Don’t worry. I won’t immediately do anything to this child. I’ll hear the “Mama” that you won’t get to hear and I’ll watch him act cute to my heart’s content. But later on, won’t His Majesty and I have our own child? When that time comes, I’ll send this one to you.”

“Y-you demon!” In my rage, my hands and lips were trembling.

“We’re running late, Veronica.”

“Ah, apologies. I lost track of time while watching this spectacle in front of me. Let’s go, Father.”

Grand Duke France glanced at me and then turned away coldly. Veronica followed him.

“I don’t know your real name,” the grand duke called over his shoulder, “so I can’t even say my final goodbye. But I’ll at least say this: you did well, fake Veronica.”

I stared at Veronica’s retreating back and stretched out my hand with everything I had left. Even though I knew I couldn't chase after her, desperation kept me from giving up.

“M-my baby...”

But I hit my limit. I had lost too much blood.

My hand fell limply. The last thing I remembered before closing my eyes was the image of Veronica becoming more and more distant.

* * *

Part 1

Prelude to Revenge

“Elena!”

Elena, who had been soaking her feet in a creek that was halfway up a low hill, looked up at the sound of someone calling her name. As the ripples on the water subsided, her visage was reflected on the surface of the creek.

Where to even begin explaining? The reflection showed someone young, with a baby face and full, broad cheeks. She was somewhere between a girl and a woman, and her looks seemed comparable to the freshness of a bud waiting to fully bloom.

It was hard to believe, but Elena had returned to the past.

The woman who had pretended to be Veronica—who had risen to the position of queen—was once again a sixteen-year-old girl about to have her coming-of-age ceremony.

At first, Elena couldn’t accept any of it. She felt the betrayal of having lost everything that she had gained while living as Veronica. She recalled the cold sensation of metal penetrating her stomach. She could still see, in her mind’s eye, Veronica’s back as the woman walked away holding Ian.

Those vivid memories made it impossible for Elena to mentally escape that terrible time.

Her heart ached, especially when she thought of Ian. She couldn’t breathe when she imagined how he would have to endure everything alone without the care of his real mother.

Why did she have to get transported back five years? If it had been just a year, or even three months ago, Elena wouldn’t have been helpless against them. She could’ve protected Ian.

For the first ten days she was back, Elena lived in a daze. It was not easy for her to narrow the gap between the past and the present—not easy to acknowledge her new reality. However, as time passed, the emotional inferno burning deep inside her gradually cooled.

She soon accepted that Ian did not exist anywhere in this world. Even if she searched the entire continent, she would be unable to find him. He hadn’t been born yet, so he couldn’t exist... right?

Only after accepting that fact was Elena able to bury her child deep in her heart.

That wasn’t all. Now that she was no longer dwelling in the past, she was able to face her present life. The realization hit her full-force—she, Elena, could use her own will to choose her future.

“Elena!”

She once again heard the call of a middle-aged man. When Elena turned her head, he was right beside her.

“There you are.”

“Father.”

Elena lifted her chin slightly and made eye contact with him. Baronet Frederick was a gentleman with a neat hairstyle and a monocle that suited him well. He’d once been a recognized administrator in the capital, but when he’d failed in his grandfather’s business, he’d lost the family fortune and been driven to the outskirts.

Currently, he was a half-noble who worked as an administrator and received a stipend from the lord of the region, Viscount Claude.

“When you said you won’t be having a coming-of-age ceremony, what did you mean?” he asked.

Frederick got straight to the point—this question was more direct than his usual manner of speech would allow. However, one could sense the urgency in his actions. After all, he’d followed his daughter all the way out to this spot by the creek when he should’ve been working at the lord’s official residence.

In contrast, Elena was quite calm.

“It’s just as I said during breakfast. I don’t want such a grand coming-of-age ceremony.”

“But Elena, this is a great opportunity,” her father said, desperately trying to persuade her. “You will be receiving the lord’s patronage, so you can officially make your social debut.”

With his humble wages, a grand social debut for his daughter had been realistically impossible. But then, an unexpected opportunity had arisen: Viscount Claude had come forward to sponsor Elena's coming-of-age ceremony, offering to pay for the expense of organizing her social debut.

Frederick was already suffering from guilt because he felt like his incompetence was preventing his daughter from getting married, so he did not want to let this opportunity slip away.

“I’m sorry,” Elena murmured. “While I understand your concerns, I don’t want to go to such lengths to enter society.”

“This is all for your sake,” he insisted. “You may not know this because you’re still young, but making your official social debut will open up your options for potential husbands. Knowing that, how can you still refuse?”

Elena didn’t say anything. She just stared at him intently.

As always, her honest and single-minded father had presented a reasonable argument. And on the surface, he hadn’t said anything wrong. If a woman could prove her noble reputation in social circles and show off her beauty, she could be courted by the sons of nobles.

“But isn’t it strange?” asked Elena.

Her father’s eyebrows rose. “What’s strange?”

“The patronage that the viscount mentioned—does it really come with no strings attached? Somehow, I don’t think it does.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Elena narrowed her eyes. “Let’s say that I officially debut in society. What if, under the pretext of patronage, I get sent away to be the concubine of an old noble or merchant? As someone who has already received the lord’s support, could I possibly refuse that?”

Frederick flinched.

“A concubine?! He’s not that kind of person.”

“You can’t be sure of that.”

Humans are creatures who will hide knives behind their smiling faces.

Elena had experienced that very thing, and quite painfully. Yet despite his daughter’s concerns, Frederick did not give up on trying to persuade her.

“I know what you’re worried about, but you can relax. Your father will make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Despite his assurances, Elena’s expression remained stiff. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her father. She just knew that this was something he couldn’t do anything about.

“You won’t be able to stop it,” she told him. “Because this is something that will entrap not just me, but our entire family.”

It was a noose. A thoroughly planned trap. In her former life, the lord’s support had become a debt. That debt had then become a shackle. In the end, it had ensnared her family and taken away their right of refusal.

Of course, there was no way for Frederick to know that. He simply felt frustrated. Talking to his daughter felt like talking to a wall.