Ashes and Rose Petals

At eight years old, my mother gave birth to a sister.

The royal astrologer foretold that my sister carried a destiny of greatness, and while still in swaddling clothes, she was betrothed to the crown prince.

I sneaked away to see her but saw someone switch her with another baby. Thinking it was a game of hide-and-seek, I quietly switched her back.

When my sister came of age, ready to enter the royal palace, a girl suddenly appeared, tearfully claiming before my mother that she was the true daughter of our family, the future crown princess.

1

After returning from tending to the sick at the Anderson household, I noticed my mother's eyes were red and swollen.

Before I could ask what had happened, she dismissed the servants, gripped my hand tightly, and whispered, "Florrie, what are we going to do? Something terrible has happened at home."

I sipped my coffee slowly and asked, "What's wrong? Did Betsy cause trouble again? Tell me, which nobleman's son did she thrash today?"

Betsy Miller was my sister, lively and charming. From the moment she was born, the royal astrologer declared she bore a destiny of greatness, destined to join the royal family.

Soon after, she was betrothed to the crown prince, to enter the palace after coming of age.

Betsy was raised like a precious gem.

As she grew, she lived up to expectations, beautiful and skilled in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, not to mention her mastery with a whip.

Her favorite pastime was using that whip to teach a lesson to spoiled noblemen who preyed on the weak.

Because of her destined role as crown princess, many families stayed silent even after their sons were beaten.

Some complained to our family, but no one could bear to scold her.