Bijou slipped her hands into her pockets, leisurely observing the bustling women around her. A triumphant smirk danced across her sharp, beautiful face.
It seemed like the heavens were aligning in Bijou's favor. Today, the grand city of Furbo was hosting a monumental event.
The King of Figurati had issued an order to search for the biological mother of his son, Prince Sandy.
The event attracted nearly every woman in the capital, ranging from young girls as early as fifteen to women approaching their forties. Unlike the somber expression worn by the King, everyone else's faces lit up with excitement, as if they were attending a festival. For them, this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to change their fate.
The King of Figurati had been a single father for a long time, a fact known by every citizen of the kingdom. No one had ever seen the queen, nor even heard of her existence. People speculated that even the King himself had forgotten what she looked like, resorting to DNA testing to identify his son's mother.
But the criteria were vague—only women with two small moles on their left shoulder were eligible to participate. Many had resorted to acupuncture and cosmetic surgery to create these two tiny spots, desperate to be considered.
Ultimately, what was meant to be a quest for the young prince's mother had turned into a competition to win the King's favor, with every woman dreaming she could catch his eye and become his queen.
Unlike the women swooning from afar over the King's cold, handsome visage as he sat on his throne, Bijou's eyes were fixed elsewhere—on Sandy, who sat quietly nearby, engrossed in a book. The young boy suffered from autism, rarely speaking except to the few people closest to him. From birth until now, hardly anyone had ever heard the little prince utter a word.
"Perfect," Bijou mused, a wicked thought crossing her mind. "With a child who never speaks, how could he possibly identify his own mother?"
Feeling that victory was already in her grasp, Bijou remained calm. Everything was going according to her meticulous plan. There was nothing to worry about.
Two small moles on the left shoulder—such a common trait. How many women could have them?
Bijou had passed the preliminary round with ease. She glanced contemptuously at the other women around her, some fortunate enough to naturally possess the two moles, others cunning enough to fabricate them. They all laughed and chatted blissfully, unaware that they were mere pawns in a game they were destined to lose.
"You won't be smiling for long," she thought, her eyes flashing dangerously. "The rightful mistress of this palace, the one destined to stand beside the King, can only be me."
Finally, the time came for the DNA tests.
One by one, each candidate's blood was collected into small glass vials and handed over to the most skilled medical team in the kingdom for processing before being placed into the analysis machine.
The wait was long and tedious, stretching nearly eight hours as the women were required to sit patiently in the designated waiting room. But not a single one complained. Each woman sat quietly, brimming with hope, silently rejoicing that they had made it this far, unlike the countless others who hadn't been as fortunate. To them, enduring the wait was a small price to pay for the potential to secure a future by the King's side.
None of them came here to help a lonely child find his voice. They weren't interested in filling the void left by the absence of a mother figure in Sandy's life. No, all they sought was the power and status that came with being the queen, driven purely by greed and ambition.
This was no fairytale where a prince would find his Cinderella by fitting a lost shoe. In the modern world, one could use countless methods—DNA tests, fingerprint comparisons—to track down a missing person with precision. Unlike fitting a shoe, where one could force it or even mutilate a foot to fit, there was no way to fake a DNA test. A person's blood and genetic makeup were unique, unalterable by any means. In this case, many women likely wished this high-tech laboratory was just a room full of glass slippers.
But those wishes would never come true. The King of Figurati had spared no expense in this search. With a national budget at stake and the kingdom's resources poured into this endeavor, no mistake could be tolerated. Every step was meticulously prepared and executed.
The moment everyone had been waiting for finally arrived.
The official emerged from the research lab, holding the results in his hand. Some women were so overwhelmed with anxiety that they fainted before a single word was spoken.
"I will now announce the results of the examination. After a thorough selection process, we have found the individuals whose blood matches that of Prince Sandy. I ask that those called forward step to the front." The official adjusted his glasses and glanced at the document in his hands.
Every woman held her breath. Time seemed to freeze. The grueling eight-hour wait paled in comparison to the few seconds of silence before the first name was announced.
Bijou, instead of feeling disdainful toward the hopeful women around her, now felt a pang of pity. "What a shame. In just a moment, when my name is called, they will be so heartbroken, so devastated," she thought smugly.
"Bijou…"
"Yes, I'm here!" Bijou sprang up from her seat, her heart leaping with joy. She strutted forward, basking in the envious gazes of the women left behind.
"Nadeen…"
Na… Huh? Nadeen?
What was this?
Two names were called? But DNA testing is supposed to be precise. How could one child have two mothers?
The crowd erupted in chaos, but Bijou stood frozen, eyes wide and mouth agape, unable to process what she had just heard.
From somewhere in the back, another woman rose and began to walk forward. Dressed in a simple summer blouse and an old plaid skirt, she moved with a grace and beauty that drew gasps from the onlookers.
That must be Nadeen.
Her delicate features were almost otherworldly. She radiated a purity and innocence like a lotus flower blooming in untouched waters. Yet hers wasn't the fragile beauty of a naive young girl; it held a deep, melancholic quality, a subtle sadness that could melt the heart of any man.
Nadeen stepped up, standing just two steps away from Bijou.
"Why… why is this happening?" Bijou panicked, her confidence shattered. "I planned everything so perfectly… how?"
But it wasn't just Bijou who was shocked. Everyone present was equally stunned. Secretary Taylor stepped forward to address the murmuring crowd.
"Ladies, it's possible that there was a technical issue with the equipment in the lab. We'll need a little more time to fix it and run another test," he explained, before turning to Bijou and Nadeen.
"You two have the highest degree of compatibility with Prince Sandy's blood. During this waiting period, the King would like you both to remain at the palace."