The east wing was arranged for Henry Clark personally by Mrs. Grant. Every table, chair, stand, and stool was chosen with unique taste, exuding an air of elegance everywhere, exactly matching Mrs. Grant's preferences. Thus, the moment Mrs. Smith stepped into the room, she felt extremely uncomfortable, but as soon as she lifted the curtain and entered the inner chamber, her mood immediately brightened.

She walked forward slowly and saw that although Henry Clark was covered with a thin quilt, it could not conceal her predicament—her limbs were spread and bound, and her mouth was tightly stuffed with a wad of cloth, leaving her only able to glare at her with resentful eyes. Mrs. Smith couldn't help but stand there, scrutinizing her struggle, and finally, she suddenly let out a cold laugh.

“Miss Han, you must have guessed it by now. The master is fine, but the young lady drowned and died last night.”

Although Henry Clark had already guessed the likely outcome ever since Mrs. Smith personally brought two maids to tie her up here, at the moment she heard these words, she was still deeply shaken. Seeing that hateful woman sit down on the edge of the bed and suddenly yank out the rag that was gagging her, she couldn't help but cough violently a few times, then glared at her in fury.

“As a servant of the marquis’s household, how dare you, when both your foster mother and your young mistress have died!”

“Dare?” Mrs. Smith suddenly giggled, looking at Henry Clark with mockery. “At this point, you still dare to threaten me? No need for you to worry, Miss Han, I know what I’m doing. You’d better worry about yourself!”

Seeing that Henry Clark was still staring straight at her, with not a trace of fear in her eyes, Mrs. Smith grew angry again. She raised her hand, wanting to slap her, but thinking of how determined Charles Bolton was to have her, she realized that hurting her rashly would only cause trouble for herself, so she reluctantly withdrew her hand and snorted coldly: “If you hadn’t insisted on exposing my faults in front of the madam when checking the accounts, if you hadn’t tried to stop Second Miss’s marriage, if you hadn’t kept opposing me, I might have let you go and told you to get lost. You brought this on yourself! The master taking a fancy to you is your good fortune. Serve him well, use all your skills to please him, and if you keep him satisfied, you might still have a way out. Otherwise…”

She chuckled, stood up, and was about to leave, but suddenly seemed to remember something and turned back, her smile cold and insincere: “I can’t be bothered to gag you again, but even if you scream yourself hoarse, don’t think anyone will come to save you. Think about your mother and brother! And do you think the madam put so much effort into you, and had the Marquis of Wuning look after your father and brother, for nothing? Wasn’t it all to have the young lady marry Prince Zi, the son of the Imperial Consort, and then have you accompany her as a secondary wife? Your father and brother are in the hands of the Gu family—you’ll never escape their grasp. If you bear a son, he’ll be raised in front of the young lady, and you’ll be of no more use! Now that you don’t have to go down that path, you should be grateful!”

Watching Mrs. Smith leave the room just like that, all of Henry Clark's stubborn courage vanished without a trace, and she collapsed in despair. No wonder Mrs. Grant had always explained the ways of the royal family to her, even telling her in detail about the quarrels among the princes and princesses… Now, all the things she hadn’t understood before finally made sense, but it was already too late. If she couldn’t get through this ordeal, she really would become, just as Mrs. Smith smugly said, someone else’s miserable plaything!

But why was Mrs. Smith so sure she could get past the marquis’s household?

She desperately pushed away her despair, clinging to hope like a drowning person to a straw, thinking as hard as she could. She didn’t know how much time had passed before she heard another commotion outside. Looking up, she saw Charles Bolton enter the room, his brazen gaze landing directly on her chest. Gritting her teeth, she spoke resolutely, as if burning her bridges.

“Aren’t you afraid that the Gu family’s matriarch, having lost both her daughter and granddaughter, will be furious with you?”

Hearing Henry Clark say this as soon as she opened her mouth, Charles Bolton reacted even more angrily than Mrs. Smith, slapping her hard. Seeing her still glare at him, he became even more enraged and said, “That old woman last saw Yu’er when she was three. As long as I say Yu’er is still alive, who dares claim she’s dead? Instead of worrying about others, you’d better worry about yourself! I’ve already had your mother and brother sent to the estate. If the Gu family wants to see you and you say the wrong thing, you know what will happen!”

Henry Clark had already guessed at this final threat. Though furious, she paid even more attention to what he’d said before. Realizing the implication, she felt a chill run down her spine, but her mind was clearer than ever.

“You want Sister Qi to take the place of Sister Yu, who’s dead?”