In the great kingdom of Ostaria, there ruled an emperor named Rainald III—a man feared in war and loved in peace. The emperor was a kind-hearted ruler despite his strict demeanor, ruling with wisdom and generosity. His name was whispered with reverence across the land, and his portrait was hung in the homes of the poor before the rich.

Like any emperor, Rainald had a vast harem of royal concubines. Among them, one stood above all: Selyana. She was the most beautiful, clever, and undeniably arrogant. No other concubine nor handmaiden dared oppose her. She was the pampered one, the favorite, the one unofficially crowned as the "future empress."

One spring, Emperor Rainald led a campaign to the northern frontiers, where the Drindal tribes had been crossing the borders and raiding merchant caravans. The air carried the crisp bite of mountain snow as the imperial army marched. The battle lasted weeks, with the clash of steel and war cries echoing through narrow mountain passes. Rainald himself led the charge, reclaiming the stolen lands without shedding a drop of innocent blood. He returned victorious, as always, the sun glinting off his armor as his horse trotted through the capital gates.

Selyana, as usual, prepared for his return: rare perfume from the Isles of Isca scented the air, her hair braided with golden threads that caught the light, and a gown studded with royal gemstones that shimmered with every movement. But to her shock, all of the women in the harem were summoned to the Great Hall by the emperor’s orders—something that had never happened before. He would usually come to her first, without delay, the scent of leather and victory clinging to him.

Suspicion flickered in her emerald eyes like a flame in the wind, but she obeyed and rushed to the hall. There, Rainald stood in the center of the women’s court, his dark hair still damp from the journey. Behind him, partially hidden in the shadow of his imposing figure, was a young girl—modestly dressed in simple linen, her hair unadorned, looking more like a servant than a new concubine.

“Listen carefully,” Rainald’s deep voice echoed through the marble hall, “this girl will be joining my harem. Treat her well, and I don’t want to hear any complaints. Understood?”

Selyana raised an eyebrow arrogantly, the jewels in her hair catching the light. He always said that about the new ones—then forgot about them as soon as he returned to her, drawn back by her fire and familiarity. And so, she assumed, it would be the same this time.

But... this time was different.

Months passed like seasons. The emperor began to show special interest in the girl. He never touched her like the others, never summoned her to his bedchamber after dark. Instead, he gifted her books with leather-bound covers, rare jewelry that he placed gently around her neck himself, spent hours with her in the gardens where the scent of blooming jasmine filled the air, and spoke to her as if she were more than just a concubine—as if her thoughts mattered. He made a promise before the entire court: once she turned twenty, she would officially become his chosen concubine—with full rights. Two years had passed since that promise, and her twentieth birthday was drawing near like a storm on the horizon.

Selyana was burning with jealousy that ate at her like acid. The emperor now visited her only for brief, physical whims, his touch lacking the tenderness it once held. No more whispers of love in the darkness. No more royal attention lavished upon her. Whispers spread throughout the palace like wildfire: the emperor had found someone new—someone who had replaced the once-unshakable Selyana.

Terrified of what would happen when the girl turned twenty, Selyana began to torment her. She and her three handmaidens—Melora, Ferlyn, and Savina—bullied the girl openly, their words sharp as broken glass.

The girl remained silent, her eyes cast down as she endured it with patience that bordered on saintly. But Selyana wasn’t satisfied with words alone.

One morning, as the girl washed Selyana’s garments near the palace fountain where water splashed musically into marble basins, Selyana lifted a bucket filled with icy water from the depths of the fountain. With a malicious smile, she dumped its contents all over the girl. The water soaked through the girl’s simple dress instantly, chilling her to the bone. Laughter exploded from Selyana and her handmaidens, clapping as Selyana sneered, "You poor thing. Do you really think the emperor sees you as special? No, little girl. You're nothing. A toy. He’ll toss you aside and come back to me."

Then... silence, broken only by the dripping of water from the girl's sodden clothes.

A sharp, commanding voice came from behind, cutting through the morning air like a blade: "What is the meaning of this, Selyana?"

It was Emperor Rainald. His honey-dark eyes burning with anger like smoldering embers, he walked slowly toward them, his boots clicking against the stone pavement. He knelt beside the trembling girl, his warm hand gentle as he helped her up, then turned to face Selyana with a look that could freeze fire:

"She complained to me about your behavior, but I didn’t believe her. I had to see for myself... and now you’re in trouble, Selyana."

He took the girl gently by the hand, his calloused fingers warm against her cold skin, and walked away, leaving Selyana shouting in protest—alone, unheard, her words fading into the distance.

Inside his royal chamber, where the air smelled of sandalwood and incense, Rainald sat beside the girl on a velvet couch and said, "Forgive her, little one. She’s only upset because I’ve started caring for another girl. Don’t worry, she won’t repeat this again. People do stupid things when they feel like they’re being replaced."