Chapter 3

3

I was the elder sister, so I should have been married first.

But Ivy, perhaps out of a need to humiliate me or a desperate rush to secure her prize, insisted on holding her wedding ahead of mine.

I went to see her as she prepared to leave.

"Are you truly sure about marrying Alistair now? Should we not have Father and Mother look into his character a bit more?"

I feigned a gentle, worried concern.

"Are you jealous because I am marrying such a brilliant young man, so you are trying to smear his name?"

Ivy slammed her hand on the vanity, snarling at me.

"My Alistair will be the top scholar, and he will make me a proud, respected lady!"

I put on a hurt expression, acting as though my good intentions had been misunderstood.

"No, sister, I only meant..."

"Enough!"

Ivy cut me off sharply and turned to our stepmother with a pout.

"Mother, today is my wedding day. I do not want to see this jinx!"

I was driven out of the bridal chamber in front of all the guests.

Seeing the mocking glares from the noblewomen, I felt no embarrassment at all.

No matter how pathetic Ivy's life would become, it had nothing to do with me.

After all, I had already given her a fair warning.

The Penhaligon family arrived for the procession, and Alistair stood there, looking like a picture-perfect gentleman.

I could see that my stepmother was quite pleased with this son-in-law.

Looking at him, she could never imagine that he was the kind of man who would ruthlessly scheme to steal his wife's dowry.

I remembered my past life; as soon as I married in, they handed the household accounts to me.

I thought they trusted me, but when I opened the vaults, I saw that half the assets were missing.

I was isolated, and I once tried to ask Alistair to stand by me.

But I overheard the truth―Alistair was the one who had hidden the funds, forcing his new bride to cover the debt with her own inheritance.

"That woman is the mistress of the house now; she can afford to pay for these losses."

I ended up using most of my dowry to fill the hole, and later, when I suffered a tragic loss of my child, I had no money for medicine, leaving me unable to bear children again.

I looked at Ivy and my stepmother, both beaming with joy, and smiled coldly.

In this life, Ivy, it is your turn to taste that bitterness.