"You heard me," the Emperor coldly said. He spared his wife a glance before looking away.
After experiencing the same unfortunate thing in her youth, she had sympathy for the perpetrator? The extent of her hypocrisy was humorous.
Sometimes, the Emperor wondered if he married the wrong woman. She was so different in her youth, a refreshing breeze from a foreign land…
At the time, he had viewed her as an exotic treat, but now, he had grown bored of her, especially after marrying her for nearly three decades.
"The times have changed…" he whispered to himself.
When she was an innocent maiden, the Empress was much kinder and her smiles were ever so gentle. What exactly changed her?
When did her grins become smirks? When did her compassion turn into cunningness? Was it the brutality of the palace that changed her—a defenseless woman who lacked a benefactor and shoulder to rely on?
