The Erotic Painting's Heroine Strikes Back

At the bride selection ball, the queen herself chose me to be the crown prince's consort.

Then my cousin Yvonne Johnson suddenly dropped to her knees in the middle of the hall and presented an erotic painting to the court.

The woman in the painting had no face, but the rose birthmark at my waist had been rendered in chilling detail.

Yvonne's eyes were red, her voice soft and cool. "I love my cousin dearly, but I can't deceive the queen. Your Majesty, please look closely. My cousin's virtue is compromised. She isn't fit to be the crown prince's consort."