Made her Queen 1

“Azalea, you’ve really let us down!”

As her vision slowly became focused, Azalea Yarrow saw who was talking. It was her fourth brother, Bastian Lark.

Her eyes flickered with shock and disbelief. Had she really been reborn? Reborn five years back—to the day Sydney Lark was publicly acknowledged as an heir?

That day, Azalea was framed by Sydney. Everyone believed she was just jealous of Sydney—so consumed with fighting over Sydney’s share of the inheritance that she’d actually pushed her down the stairs in an attempt to kill her.

The moment it happened, her second brother, Matthias Lark, had rushed in like clockwork and saved Sydney just in time. She came away with nothing more than a scare.

Bastian had shown up immediately and forced her to admit fault without even getting the full picture.

She’d tried to explain, even swore on her life, but to them, everything she said was just a lie to cover her tracks.

Ultimately, she was forced to bow down before the guests and apologize to Sydney. And to ‘make up for the trauma Sydney suffered,’ their parents decided to hand over Azalea’s share of the inheritance to her.

In one day, she became the laughingstock of all Draywick.

And that was just the beginning of the nightmare.

She was naturally beautiful. Sydney once said, ‘If only I could look as good as her,’ and the next thing Azalea knew, her cheek was scarred from an allergic reaction. She wasn’t allowed to be prettier than Sydney—that would make Sydney insecure. So her face had to be ruined.

She had an incredible talent for painting. Sydney once said she wished she could be as gifted, and just like that, all of Azalea’s work was credited to Sydney. Azalea was labeled a plagiarist and expelled under the disappointed eyes of her teachers.

And it didn’t stop there. Because Sydney had a heart condition and couldn’t exercise like a normal person, Azalea was put on a restricted diet and forced to act like a sickly, fragile companion to her.

But none of that spared her from being kicked out of the house.

After years of never eating enough and suffering severe malnutrition, penniless and alone, she curled up under a bridge, her body failing her, and waited in silence for death.

Azalea blinked and looked around. Matthias was holding Sydney protectively, his face full of worry. Bastian was glaring at her with nothing but rage and disgust.

But weren’t they the ones who found her and said they wanted to make things right?

Bastian’s patience had clearly run dry. Seeing her just stand there, he reached out, grabbed her wrist, and yanked her in front of Sydney.

“Apologize!”

The pain in her wrist snapped her out of it. She looked up and met Bastian’s eyes.

Of the four brothers, he was only two years older than her. He used to be the one who understood her best, who she was closest to.

Now, those eyes that once held warmth for her were filled with nothing but annoyance.

“Forget it, Bastian. It’s really not a big deal,” Sydney said, waving her hand with a soft smile. “After all, even though I’m a Lark by name, I’m not really family. It’s normal for Azalea to be upset.” She sounded so understanding, like she wanted to just brush everything off. But her words left too much for others to fill in themselves.

Matthias exploded on the spot. He pointed at Azalea’s face and snapped, “If I’d known you’d turn into something this vicious, I would’ve told Mom and Dad not to bring you back. You should’ve just died out there!”

Azalea felt like she’d fallen into an ice-cold lake. Her whole body went numb.

So that’s what they thought. That her existence wasn’t worth it if it threatened Sydney.

She wished the Larks had never found her—if she had the choice.

She gritted her teeth through the pain in her wrist and yanked her hand back. Her voice was hoarse as she asked, “So you all really think I pushed Sydney?”

Sydney gave her a helpless look. “Azalea … “

She didn’t say more, but even that spoke louder than Azalea could’ve said in her own defense.

Bastian looked more disappointed than ever. He’d thought she’d at least be brave enough to face her mistake. But even now, she was still trying to deny it.

“Azalea, when did you become like this?” he asked.

When she first returned to the Larks, she’d been so resilient and pure—like a little sun that warmed all of them.

“You want me to spell it out?” Matthias growled. “You were jealous that Sydney was getting part of the inheritance. You thought she was stealing what’s yours, so you pushed her down the stairs and tried to kill her.” His eyes burned with hatred like he could burn Azalea to the ground with just a look.

“Those ten years you were gone, it was Sydney who comforted us, who helped Mom and Dad hold on. After you returned, she kept stepping aside so you wouldn’t feel upset. What more do you want? That inheritance was always rightfully hers!”

Azalea gave a cold little smile. So apparently, Sydney had done all that for her?

“I was wrong,” she said.

She had been wrong for thinking she could still expect real family love from them. That hope? She was done with it.

Sydney looked troubled. “Azalea, I don’t blame you.”

Azalea gave her a small smile. “A mistake is a mistake. I’ll fix what I did wrong.”

Her mistake was coming back to the Larks. So she’d be the one to end that mistake—personally.

Hearing that, a flicker of satisfaction passed through Sydney’s eyes. The love of the Larks could only belong to her and her alone.

On the surface, she looked heartbroken and waved her hands quickly. “Azalea, you don’t have to do this. You already apologized. I don’t need anything else.”

Matthias, holding Sydney in his arms, softened instantly. Sydney was always like this—so forgiving, even when she’d been hurt.

He looked down at her gently. “Don’t feel bad. You’re just getting what you deserve.”

Then he turned back to Azalea, sneering coldly. “At least you still have a shred of conscience.” And with that, he walked off with Sydney, not even bothering to look back.

Bastian glanced at Azalea again. His gaze dropped to her wrist, and he froze. Was that his doing?

Her pale wrist was red and swollen from where he’d grabbed her.

For a second, a trace of guilt crossed his eyes—but it quickly twisted into blame.

“You shouldn’t have gone against Sydney. Think about how you will explain all this when Mom, Dad, and others return.

“Put some medicine on that wrist.”

Azalea didn’t answer. It wasn’t until everyone was gone and the room fell into complete silence that she finally bent over and clutched her stomach—laughing.

Her laugh was wild, almost manic, like she’d completely lost it.

Her eyes were brimming with tears.

It was always like this. They’d push her to despair, then toss her a sliver of hope. Just enough to make her keep waiting, keep believing that if she just behaved and endured a little longer, everything would be okay.

She laughed so hard it hurt and started coughing violently. Finally, she wiped her tears and turned around to head back to her room.

A framed family photo sat right in the center of her dresser. Azalea stared at it, her expression ice-cold.

In the picture, a couple stands behind six kids—two girls and four boys. The little girl on the far edge looks completely out of place.

That was her.

She’d gotten lost when she was five and was only found again at 15. During the first year after she disappeared, her mother nearly had a mental breakdown. Her father, trying to comfort her, adopted a girl from an orphanage who looked a little like her.

From then on, all the guilt the Larks felt toward Azalea was poured into Sydney. She became the brightest little princess in all of Draywick.

When they found Azalea again, their parents and four brothers tried their best to make it up to her, just like they’d promised.

But slowly, things started to change.

“Azalea, Sydney has a heart condition. Just be a little more considerate of her.”

“Azalea, just by coming back, you’ve already taken away half of the love meant for Sydney. Don’t be so petty.”

“Azalea, we’re your family—but Sydney only has us. Can’t you be more understanding?”

Azalea dug her fingernails into the edge of the desk until they broke, snapping her out of her thoughts. None of it mattered anymore.

She reached under her bed and pulled out a white box, not a speck of dust on it. Then she stood up and walked out the door.