Ethan Foster finally came back to his senses, his face flushing with embarrassment. Still, he wanted to explain something: “It’s been a long time since I last saw you, Mother Consort. I feel you’ve grown a bit thinner lately, but you’re still as beautiful as ever, so I couldn’t help but look a little longer. Please forgive your son’s rudeness.” Although these flattering words were thought up in a moment of panic, what woman doesn’t like to be praised for her beauty? Hearing this, Consort Yu couldn’t help but smile, and that smile outshone all the other beauties present. Fortunately, this time Ethan Foster managed to compose himself and didn’t make a fool of himself again.

Consort Yu gazed at her son, a smile on her face, but not a trace of warmth in her heart. Ten months of pregnancy, all the hardship of giving birth, only for the imperial physician to heartlessly declare that her son was born frail and weak, unlikely to survive, and even if he somehow reached adulthood, it was improbable he would have any heirs. That pronouncement shattered all her hopes. During those agonizing days, although the Emperor did not blame her, the other consorts’ cold remarks, the Empress’s ridicule, and even the lowly eunuchs and palace maids dared to gossip behind her back—she had no idea how she got through those days. Again and again, she summoned imperial physicians for treatment, only to fall into despair each time. As someone who once enjoyed boundless favor, how could she not understand that without a son to rely on, the day she lost her looks and youth, everyone would kick her while she was down? At last, Heaven took pity on her and granted her another child—a clever, healthy son, without any defects. Even the fortune-teller said the child’s future would be illustrious. Since that was the case, the child who should never have been born and brought her such humiliation no longer had any reason to exist. Now, the only reason she tolerated this son’s existence was to ensure that she and her other son could receive more of the Emperor’s favor. At this thought, a cold glint flashed in her eyes.

“You rarely come to see me, so go ahead and have a look around.” Consort Yu gave Ethan Foster a slight smile. “Sarah, take the Seventh Prince for a walk. It’s rare that he looks so well today.”

Although Ethan Foster was somewhat reluctant, how could he dare disobey his mother? He obediently followed the two palace maids toward the back of the hall. Only then did Consort Yu turn to the two maids kneeling before her. She knew they were the most capable people at her son’s side—competent and clever. If she could win them over, things would be much easier in the future. What she needed was a puppet son; as long as it helped the Eleventh Prince ascend to the supreme throne, she would stop at nothing.

“If I’m not mistaken, you two must be Emily Clark and Grace.” Consort Yu said coolly.

“Replying to Your Grace, this servant is Emily Clark.”

“Replying to Your Grace, this servant is Grace.”

The two on the ground bowed their heads even lower. They knew that this noblewoman before them could ruin them with just a flick of her finger. Even Emily Clark, who deeply resented Consort Yu, dared not step out of line.

“You both know the Seventh Prince has always been frail, so why would you try to seduce him?” Consort Yu deliberately raised her voice. “With your status, how could you be worthy of a noble prince? Do you realize your crime?”

No matter how bold Emily Clark was, she couldn’t help but turn pale with fright. As a personal maid to the prince, the accusation of seducing her master was the most terrifying—enough to doom her forever. After kowtowing repeatedly, Emily Clark tearfully said, “Your Grace, please see clearly—His Highness has always treated us lowly servants with utmost propriety. There has never been any such thing as seduction. I have always known my place and would never dare overstep. Besides, His Highness is of such noble status; I only ever serve him with all my heart, and have never harbored any other intentions.”

Grace was even more terrified, kowtowing nonstop. She wasn’t as eloquent as Emily Clark, and could only keep repeating, “Your Grace, spare me!” She couldn’t say anything else.

Consort Yu was quite satisfied with Emily Clark’s cleverness—this was exactly the kind of person she needed. With a little manipulation, she could definitely make her submit. As for Grace, she was too dull, lacking any spark; only that son of hers would keep such a woman by his side. For now, though, the most important thing was to give them a warning, to let them know who the real master was. “I trust you wouldn’t dare seduce Ethan, but the rumors in the palace surely didn’t come from nowhere. If I don’t teach you a lesson, others will think I’m indulging the servants around my son.” Consort Yu said coldly. “As for Ethan, I will discipline him as well, so he won’t become a laughingstock in the palace.”

With a light wave of her hand, four stern-faced middle-aged eunuchs hurried forward, dragging Emily Clark and Grace toward a side room. “Twenty strokes each. I want them to know what discipline means!”