PREVIEW
... ere the first words her father ever uttered about her, spoken coldly while he held her mother’s trembling hands, as if Penelope were nothing more than an afterthought.
"Papa!"
"Can we play?"
"Is papa busy?"
She reached for him with small, hopeful hands. But he never reached back.
Her mother, soft-spoken and frail, was the Emperor’s fifth concubine. A girl sold for her beauty, not her worth.
A caged songbird too timid to fly, too tired to sing.
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Chapter 190: Problem
Chapter 9B2 - : Interlude
