Red Shadow in the Night

Crisis

Isabella didn’t even eat breakfast. After dressing, she immediately took a sedan chair to the Longevity Palace.

The Queen Dowager had sent for her so early, clearly in a state of urgency. Though she was told to eat first, Isabella knew that delaying for breakfast would be seen as disrespectful.

As expected, Lady Yumin, the Queen Dowager’s trusted attendant waiting at the door, gave a satisfied nod upon seeing Isabella and hurried forward to greet her. “Greetings, Your Majesty. The Queen Dowager awaits you in the inner hall.”

Lady Yumin pushed the door open and stepped aside to let her enter. “Thank you, Lady Yumin,” Isabella said. After she went in, Lady Yumin curtsied, closed the door, and remained outside with Beatrice.

A faint unease settled in Isabella’s chest, a shadowy premonition stirring within her. Lady Yumin had served the Queen Dowager for years and was privy to all matters—yet now she stayed outside, suggesting that what awaited was not for others’ ears.

“Your humble servant pays respects to the Queen Dowager. May you enjoy longevity and good health.”

The Queen Dowager smiled warmly and beckoned her to rise. “Come here, let me have a good look at you.” She raised her hand, inviting Isabella to sit beside her.

With a graceful smile, Isabella replied, “Yes, Your Majesty,” and obediently took her place next to the Queen Dowager.

“Today, I called you here to offer you some comfort,” the Queen Dowager began with a soft sigh, her brows furrowing in frustration. “I’ve heard about the emperor’s absurd actions yesterday. You’ve been wronged, my dear queen.” She gently patted Isabella’s hand, as if ready to take her side.

Isabella smiled but remained silent.

Then, in an abrupt shift, the Queen Dowager’s tone hardened. “I’d like to hear your thoughts on this matter,” she said, her expression stern, her voice laced with authority. “Do you wish to go through with this marriage alliance?”

Isabella knelt at the Queen Dowager’s feet, lowering her gaze. “Your Majesty, I do not wish to.”

The Queen Dowager did not ask her to rise, leaving her kneeling. “I knew you wouldn’t stoop to such a disgraceful act for the royal family.” She let out a heavy breath, her eyes drifting to the distance. “Though the emperor is a disappointment, he is still my flesh and blood, the legitimate heir. That cannot be changed, nor can it be questioned.”

She glanced down at Isabella, noting how even a mere profile of her face could stir improper thoughts. A woman like her, if virtuous, posed no threat—but if sent to marry their feared enemy, that aged king would surely be ensnared by her beauty, becoming a puppet in her hands. Should she then harbor vengeance and turn against them, they would be defenseless.

The Queen Dowager sighed inwardly, regretting her past choices. She had once thought the emperor’s love for beauty could be harnessed, forcing Isabella—the kingdom’s most radiant woman—into marriage with him, hoping she could steer him toward governance. Yet the plan had backfired disastrously.

She handed Isabella a brocade box from the nearby table, her voice stripped of its earlier warmth. “This is the last bit of dignity I can offer you.”

Clenching her teeth, Isabella respectfully took the box and opened it. Upon seeing its contents, her heart sank, her pupils constricted, and her face paled. “Your Majesty…”

Inside were two items: a white silk cloth and a vial of poisoned wine.

Her fingertips grew cold, fear slithering up her spine like a venomous snake. Her mind blanked for a moment, and when she came to, a chill crept down her back.

“Don’t blame me, my dear,” the Queen Dowager said with a sigh. “This isn’t just for the emperor and the dynasty’s honor—it’s for your own good as well. Once a woman marries, there’s no remarrying. Who would respect a woman who has lost her virtue? How could your family hold their heads high? Your younger brother would be scorned, his future ruined. And your two sisters—how could they marry well? What household would accept a bride whose sister had been dishonored?”

Isabella’s grip on the box tightened, her eyes rimmed with red, her teeth biting hard into her lower lip.

“Right now, the only way to prove your innocence is through death,” the Queen Dowager pressed, her tone firming as Isabella stayed silent. “Do you understand?”

With effort, Isabella forced out a single word: “Yes.”

“It is settled, then.” Seeming weary, the Queen Dowager took a sip of Longjing tea from the table. “Tonight, I’ve arranged a farewell banquet for you. Go back and prepare yourself.”

With that, she ignored Isabella, still kneeling on the floor, and summoned Lady Yumin to assist her to rest. The warm, smiling woman from moments ago now seemed a mirage. This was the Queen Dowager’s true face—casting Isabella aside like a pawn that threatened the emperor’s reputation.

After a moment, Isabella steadied herself, her legs trembling as she rose unsteadily. She brushed the dust from her skirt, adjusted her hair to ensure not a strand was out of place, then picked up the box and left the Longevity Palace with the same dignified posture as when she’d arrived.

Seeing her lady emerge, Beatrice rushed to support her, noting her pallid face. She wanted to ask what had happened but, realizing they had just left the Longevity Palace, held her tongue—whatever occurred inside was likely the cause. Silently, she helped Isabella into the sedan chair back to the Phoenix Palace.

In her bedchamber, Isabella dismissed all the maids and placed the box on the soft couch. Her legs gave way, and she collapsed onto it, finally shedding her queenly composure in the absence of others.

Startled, Beatrice asked urgently, “What’s wrong, my lady? Did the Queen Dowager trouble you?”

After a long pause, Isabella lifted a finger slightly. “Open it and see.”

Trusting her, Beatrice opened the box, expecting jewelry or gifts from the Queen Dowager. Instead, she saw its horrifying contents and dropped to her knees with a sharp thud, her voice trembling. “My lady, this…” Having served in the palace for years, she had seen concubines granted death and knew exactly what these items signified.

But to think the queen herself would face such a fate.

“You mustn’t give in, my lady!” Beatrice’s face drained of color as she clutched Isabella’s skirt, fearing she might take the poison at any moment.

“Is it that I want to give in?” Isabella’s nails dug into her palms, yet she felt no pain, as if numb. “When the King of Hell calls for me at midnight, who can keep me until dawn?”

“What… what can we do…” Tears streamed down Beatrice’s face, her heart breaking for her lady. In a frantic plea, she stammered, “Let’s beg the emperor for mercy… No, your father. If you plead with him, perhaps he’ll soften…” Her voice dissolved into sobs. She knew her suggestions were fanciful, but they were better than suicide.

Her lady was in the prime of her life—how could she let the Queen Dowager’s words dictate her fate?

“Stop crying,” Isabella said, her reason slowly returning as she glanced at the box. A flicker of disdain crossed her eyes. She reached for it, opened it, and took out the vial of poisoned wine.

“My lady, you…” Before Beatrice could finish, Isabella hurled the vial to the floor. It shattered with a loud crash, fragments scattering, the poisoned wine spilling like rain onto the luxurious carpet. The deadly liquid evaporated, releasing a sweet fragrance that might be mistaken for fine wine.

Beatrice gasped but held her tongue.

Then, Isabella seized the white silk cloth, gripping both ends tightly before tearing it in half and tossing it to the ground. The silk absorbed some of the spilled wine, soaking through.

After the initial shock, a surge of anger rose within Isabella, fueled by indignation. “My father wouldn’t dare offend the emperor, let alone defy the Queen Dowager for me. And the emperor—he despises me!”

Seeing Beatrice about to speak, Isabella cut her off. “Don’t worry, I won’t obey the Queen Dowager’s wishes.” A mocking smile curved her lips as she lowered her voice. “They don’t deserve it.”

“I have no ties to them—why should I die for their so-called royal honor? Even ants cling to life; am I worth less than an ant?” Once she began, it was as if she wanted to vent all her grievances. “Why does the kingdom’s honor rest solely on me? Why must I prove my innocence with my life for their wretched pride?”

Hearing her lady’s defiant words, Beatrice glanced anxiously at the closed door. “My lady, be careful—walls have ears.”

Isabella fell silent, but a lump of frustration lodged in her throat, choking her.

Earlier, in the Longevity Palace, she had been too stunned by the Queen Dowager’s sudden death sentence to protest. Only now could she speak freely, yet she feared it might invite greater trouble.

The Queen Dowager had claimed to act for Isabella’s own good, for her family’s sake. She thought she could manipulate Isabella with familial duty, but Isabella cared nothing for her so-called kin.

It was her family who had thrust her into this abyss. When she failed to bring them profit, they abandoned her without a second thought. Why should she sacrifice herself for their futures?

Isabella was no saint.

To die for those who had wronged her? Even in death, her so-called family would only mock her foolishness and blame her for not bringing them glory.

Death was easy, but in death, there was nothing. Only the living had hope.

She would find a way to survive, no matter the cost!