Rafael’s mouth twitched, though whether it was amusement or disbelief, she could not tell. His gaze dropped once more to the suitcase before returning to her.

"You certainly do know how to leave a first impression." And he laughed.

"It was called hormonal fluctuations," Cixi said, recalling the bit of research she had done about pregnancy before daring to invade the Crown Palace. She reminded herself that this was not the moment to make any enemies, especially with the royal family, especially when she was on the verge of being shooed away by the guards.

"What I meant was, you should have asked whether we had ever met instead of questioning if the baby was yours."

"Then why were you here—" His eyes rose again with mild astonishment. "—with luggage?"

The way he stood before her made his height even more apparent. He seemed built out of long lines and indifference.

How tall were these men in the Crown bloodline? she pondered.

"I was here to speak to Michael Crown."

That response caused Rafael’s brows to shift faintly. "Was he the one?"

Was he the one? Now, what was this guy coming up with?

As she contemplated his words, her eyes snapped to him, realising he was asking her if Michael Crown was the father of the fake baby.

Cixi’s irritation flared, yet she tried to keep her calm, telling herself over and over, Patience. Patience.

Feeling that she would otherwise unleash curses upon him, she asked politely, "May I please speak with him?" Cixi turned directly to Rafael, knowing the guards would not allow her to pass unless a family member approved. "I need to talk to him. It is urgent."

Something bright and almost wicked flashed across Rafael’s face.

"My mother will murder you if you stand before her carrying what appears to be my father’s child."

And to Cixi’s utter disbelief, he laughed. He actually laughed, thinking either that his father had fathered another child or that his mother would kill her upon hearing the news. Or probably both.

"Was that supposed to mean?" Cixi asked through clenched teeth.

"Nothing," he replied, still visibly entertained. "But I will take you to my father." His smile deepened into something boyishly dangerous. "It has been far too long since anything interesting happened in this Palace."

And Cixi stared at him in mute disbelief.

What was wrong with Michael Crown’s sons? One enjoyed punishment and spoke of death as if it were a courtesy. And the other looked at scandal and saw it as entertainment.

"Come along," Rafael said, turning on his heel as if the matter had already been settled.

And because she had no better choice and nothing more to say for now, Cixi followed.

Behind them, one of the guards closed her suitcase and took hold of it before trailing after them through the entrance doors.

They passed through corridor after corridor in silence. The marble floors, wide staircases, and expensive walls all looked just as they should have in a place like this—refined. Cixi had felt the same way six months ago when she first visited there with Emily.

After several turns, they finally reached the same part of the Palace Cixi remembered from before, where Michael and Tamara had once sat indulging in luxury, ignoring her presence.

Two guards stood outside the room, and though their eyes flickered briefly towards Cixi, neither of them spoke. They bowed and opened the door at once for Rafael.

He entered first, and Cixi stepped in after him.

Behind her, the guard with the suitcase left it outside the door and turned back towards the entrance in silence.

Inside, Tamara and Michael were seated together, taking tea with delicate, chef-made, gluten-free biscuits.

Seeing Rafael, Tamara’s face brightened instantly. She rose at once, smiling, already moving to embrace her son. However, before she could do so, her gaze slid past him and landed on Cixi.

Her expression soured when her eyes noticed the swollen belly.

Her expression changed so swiftly that even the air in the room seemed to harden. She hit Rafael’s left arm. "Did you get her pregnant and bring her into our Palace?" The outrage burst from her before Rafael could even part his lips. "Who was she?!"

Her eyes were already burning into Rafael, then slashing back towards Cixi with disbelief and outrage across her elegant face.

Rafael, to his credit, did not look the least bit ashamed. If anything, he looked even more entertained.

"Did you drag her in from the street?" The disgust in Tamara’s voice was palpable as she uttered those words about Cixi. "Give her some cash and take her out of here, Rafael. I have no wish to deal with peasants or see one." Her gaze flicked back to Cixi’s feet, looking at her cheap sneakers. "In fact, I have to ask the Palace maids to clean wherever she has walked."

Tamara’s eyes moved over Cixi in one slow sweep, beginning with the scarf wrapped around her hair, then travelling down the line of her dress, the cloth, the shoes, and finally the rounded belly before returning to her face.

The way Tamara looked at Cixi with open contempt, she did not need words to understand what Tamara had already decided about her.

Disregarding her mother’s words, Rafael dropped onto a sofa leisurely, stretched one arm along the backrest, and laughed without the slightest effort to hide his amusement. "Mother, you were halfway to the execution before anyone gave you the story." His pale brown eyes slid towards Cixi’s belly. "If she were merely another woman claiming that child was mine, I would have paid to have the nuisance removed already."

That earned him a glare from Cixi, and she narrowed her eyes at him as if warning him.

There it was. The resemblance between the brothers. Not in the exact shape of the face, but in the madness. Speaking of killing as if they were talking about killing mosquitoes. Both brothers were disturbed in their own ways.

Tamara opened her mouth to throw another insult at Cixi, and she would have spoken if not for Michael, who had been watching Cixi with patience. Then, with that same cold steadiness, he interrupted the room.

"You were here once before..."

Tamara stopped mid-breath and turned sharply to Michael, and then her gaze settled on Cixi with renewed focus. "She was here?" Her brow knitted together. "When? Was she one of the maids?"

Without waiting for an answer, she quickly closed the distance between herself and Cixi.