Chapter 4: A Family in Turmoil
1469 Words
The General’s residence was anything but peaceful that evening.
The moment Lydia stepped through the gates, she knew the storm had already gathered. Servants avoided her gaze. The air felt thick, heavy with unspoken tension. Word of her outrageous behavior in court had spread like wildfire. A noble lady entering the imperial court uninvited—approaching the emperor’s throne—calling him blind—declaring love in front of ministers?
It was beyond scandalous.
It was reckless.
And her father was waiting.
General Armand stood in the center of the main hall, clad in dark armor, his broad shoulders rigid with fury. His presence alone could silence armies. The moment Lydia entered, his sharp eyes locked onto her.
“Lydia,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Is it true?”
She straightened her spine. Her heart pounded, but she refused to cower. “If you are asking whether I entered the court and brought food to His Majesty… then yes.”
The slap of his palm against the wooden table echoed through the hall.
“Have you lost your mind?” he roared. “Do you understand what you have done? No woman enters the imperial court! No woman approaches the emperor’s throne! You have shamed this family!”
Her mother hurried forward, placing a gentle hand on the General’s arm. “Husband, calm yourself. She is still young.”
“Young?” he snapped. “She is of marriageable age and old enough to know consequences!”
Lydia’s two elder brothers stood nearby. The eldest, Marcus, tall and composed, crossed his arms but looked more worried than angry. The second brother, Elias, paced anxiously, rubbing his forehead.
Her elder sister, Helena, watched with wide, disbelieving eyes.
Lydia swallowed. Though she carried Amara’s soul and memories, this family’s affection tugged at her heart. She felt it clearly now—the warmth, the love. She was the youngest, the family’s treasure. The one they had doted on endlessly.
Which made her rebellion hurt them even more.
“I am not ashamed,” Lydia said quietly but firmly.
The hall fell silent.
Her father stared at her as though she had spoken a foreign language.
“I do not want to marry someone I do not love,” she continued. “I will not live a life chosen for me without my heart’s consent.”
Helena gasped softly. “Love?” she repeated. “Since when does love decide marriages?”
“Since now,” Lydia replied.
Her eldest brother stepped forward. “Little sister,” Marcus said gently, his tone patient, “this is not a storybook. His Majesty’s decree cannot be undone. Once the emperor speaks, it is law. Not even Father can challenge it.”
“I know that,” she said.
“Then why provoke him?” Elias asked, frustration evident in his voice. “Do you want the emperor’s wrath upon us? Do you want Father stripped of rank?”
Her mother’s eyes filled with worry. “Child… we have always indulged you. But this is not something you can fight.”
Lydia lifted her chin. “So I should just surrender? Marry a man I feel nothing for? Bear his children? Smile while my heart rots inside me?”
Her father’s expression hardened. “That is the way of this world.”
“Then this world is wrong,” she shot back.
The General’s face darkened, but beneath the anger, something else flickered—fear. Fear for her safety. Fear for the consequences.
Helena stepped closer, lowering her voice. “Lydia… do you truly think His Majesty would withdraw the decree because of your… performance today?”
“I don’t know,” Lydia admitted. “But I will make him.”
Marcus shook his head. “You underestimate him. The emperor is not a man swayed by theatrics.”
A small, dangerous smile curved Lydia’s lips. “Then I will give him something more powerful than theatrics.”
Her family stared at her.
“What are you planning?” Elias asked cautiously.
“If he will not withdraw the decree willingly…” she paused, eyes gleaming with stubborn fire, “then I will catch the man I am engaged to cheating.”
The room went completely silent.
Her father blinked once. “Cheating?”
“Yes,” Lydia continued confidently. “If I can prove that Lord Kael is morally corrupt… dishonorable… unfit to be my husband—”
Helena burst out, “Are you insane?!”
Marcus pinched the bridge of his nose. “Lydia… noble men are not bound the way ordinary husbands are.”
Elias groaned. “Ancient men are allowed to marry more than one wife.”
Her mother nodded sadly. “Even if Lord Kael were to favor another woman, it would not automatically nullify your engagement. It is allowed.”
Lydia froze.
“…What?”
Her father folded his arms. “Kings and nobles have always taken multiple wives. It is tradition. It is law. It is expected.”
The words struck her like cold water.
In her modern world, cheating destroyed relationships. It ended marriages. It exposed character. But here?
It was permitted.
Normalized.
Even protected.
Her shoulders stiffened. “So even if he filled his residence with women, it would change nothing?”
“Nothing,” Marcus said firmly. “You would still marry him.”
Helena studied her carefully. “Why are you truly fighting this, Lydia? Is it pride? Or something else?”
Lydia hesitated.
She could not tell them the truth—that she was not their Lydia. That she carried memories of another life. That she had once loved and lost, and vowed never to repeat her cowardice.
Instead, she said softly, “Because I deserve to choose. And because… I love someone else.”
Her mother gasped.
Her father’s eyes sharpened. “Who?”
Silence.
Helena’s voice trembled. “You cannot mean…”
Lydia lifted her gaze steadily.
“Yes.”
The General’s face drained of color. “You dare.”
Marcus stepped closer, lowering his voice urgently. “Sister, that is treasonous thinking.”
“It is not treason to love,” she replied calmly.
“It is when the man you love sits on the dragon throne,” Elias hissed.
The weight of her words settled heavily over the hall.
Her father exhaled slowly, rubbing his temples. “You are playing with fire, Lydia.”
“Then let me burn,” she answered quietly.
Her mother’s eyes filled with tears. “You are our precious child. We only wish for your safety.”
“And I only wish for a life I can live without regret,” Lydia replied.
Marcus looked at her long and hard. “And what if you fail?”
She smiled faintly. “Then at least I will know I tried.”
Helena’s shock softened into something like reluctant admiration. “You’ve changed,” she murmured. “You were stubborn before… but this is different.”
Lydia did not respond.
Because Helena was right.
She had changed.
She was no longer just the spoiled youngest daughter of a powerful general.
She was Amara—reborn with a second chance.
And she would not waste it.
Her father finally spoke, his voice no longer furious but weary. “You have one month before the wedding ceremony preparations begin in full. I will not shield you from consequences if you disgrace this family again.”
Lydia bowed slightly. “I understand.”
“But,” he added, his tone heavy, “I will not force you to abandon your feelings. I only ask that you act wisely.”
A small flicker of gratitude warmed her chest.
“I will,” she promised.
As the family dispersed, murmuring in worry and disbelief, Lydia remained standing in the hall.
Her plan to “catch him cheating” had collapsed in seconds.
Fine.
She would need something better.
Something smarter.
If ancient men were allowed to marry more than one wife, then exposing another woman alone would not work.
She would need scandal.
Improper conduct.
Dishonor.
Something that would make even the emperor reconsider.
Back in his palace chambers, the emperor paused mid-thought, recalling the taste of her cooking… and the fire in her eyes.
Meanwhile, in the General’s residence, Lydia stared at the moonlit sky through her window.
“Simply cheating won’t be enough,” she whispered to herself.
“Then I’ll make him make a mistake.”
Her lips curved slowly.
“I will not marry a man I do not love.”
And for the first time since arriving in this ancient world, the challenge excited her more than it frightened her.
The game was no longer about escaping marriage.
It was about rewriting destiny.
- Writer
