Chapter 2: Poetry, Pride, and Punishment

“Since Marissa also agrees, let it be as you wish. As long as the governor dissolves your engagement, I’ll go along with whatever the governor decides.” My father seized the chance to step back, eager to avoid further scandal.

The next morning, I got ready to head to the statehouse with Ethan. But before I could even finish my coffee, a formal invitation arrived from the first lady herself. The governor’s wife was hosting a flower-viewing at the mansion—the autumn mums were in full bloom, and all unmarried daughters of officials were invited. No one dared refuse. Early in the morning, Piper and I piled into the town car, the leather seats creaking beneath us as we set out for the governor’s mansion.

Before we left, my parents reminded me to look after Piper. “She’s just come home, Marissa. She’s still learning the ropes,” Mom said, worry in her eyes.

Piper just laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m so charming, the first lady will definitely love me.” She winked at the driver and bounced in her seat like a kid on her way to a theme park.

In the car, Piper was practically vibrating with excitement. She pressed her nose to the window, gawking at every tree and statue we passed along the governor’s drive. In her mind, this was her big debut—the place where her supposed talents would finally get the recognition she thought she deserved.

It had been the same in my last life; Piper had wowed the crowd with her ‘borrowed’ brilliance. But this time, I was ready. I gripped the poetry collection I’d spent the whole night writing, my knuckles white. I wasn’t going to let her steal the spotlight again.

When we arrived, the head butler led us to the back garden. All the young ladies kept their heads down, following the old rules—heads down, no one speaking out of turn. Piper, though, couldn’t help but gawk at everything—exclaiming over the flowers, the fountains, even the silverware. She didn’t care about the disapproving glances, not even from the butler, who looked like he’d swallowed a bug.

After meeting the first lady, everyone curtseyed, skirts rustling on the flagstones. Piper hesitated, clearly unsure, but finally followed suit, her movement awkward but passable.

While everyone admired the chrysanthemums, the first lady’s niece, Lily Harrington, explained the flowers’ origins, uses, and blooming periods. Every time Lily finished a point, Piper jumped in, “You can also make chrysanthemum tea, which delays aging, lowers cholesterol and blood pressure, and prevents blood clots. You probably don’t know what blood clots are—it means your blood flows smoothly, so you’re less likely to get sick all of a sudden.”

Lily shot Piper a look, eyebrows raised. “Wow, you sure know a lot.”

Piper took it as encouragement and started talking even more. The first lady just smiled, amused. She’d never seen anyone like Piper.

Lily, seeing the first lady’s obvious favor toward Piper, gritted her teeth and sidled up to me. We’d never been close, but in my last life, she’d been jealous of my reputation as the town’s most talented girl. Still, I’d always treated her kindly, so we weren’t enemies—just distant. Today, though, Piper’s antics had Lily seeking me out. In old-money circles, you learn fast: the enemy of my enemy is my friend.

I gave a bitter smile. “Exactly, my parents dote on her, and my fiancé…” I trailed off, letting a little sadness slip into my voice.

Lily understood in an instant. I dabbed at the corner of my eye and pulled out my poetry collection. “I heard the first lady loves poetry, so I wrote some last night as a gift. I’m not sure if they’re any good, but…”

“Give it to me,” Lily said, snatching it up.

“Thank you, Miss Harrington.” I nodded, putting on my best grateful face.

As Lily walked away, I let myself smile. Everything was unfolding exactly as I’d planned.

If Piper tried to show off in front of the first lady, she’d only make Lily resent her more. Lily was no lightweight; she’d notice the significance of the poetry collection. Giving it to her was the smartest move I could make. Now all I had to do? Sit back and watch the fireworks.

At the garden party, the first lady suggested everyone write a poem about chrysanthemums. I saw Piper’s eyes light up—she must have thought this was her moment to shine.

She didn’t hesitate, not even glancing at the other girls still struggling for inspiration. “Ma’am, I’ve already written one,” she said, all chipper.

“So fast?” The first lady’s eyebrows lifted. She’d never seen a girl like Piper at these parties. Even Piper’s brashness seemed to amuse her.

“Let’s hear it,” the first lady said, leaning forward expectantly.

Piper cleared her throat, standing a little taller. “The whole garden’s mums are golden yellow; among them, a lone cluster as white as snow.” She recited the lines, proud as anything, waiting for the applause.

But the first lady’s smile faded. The silence was heavy.

Piper frowned, uncertain. Maybe the first lady didn’t like that one? She tried again: “How many women in the world have real charm? Just look at the lone mum on a chilly autumn day.”

Now, the first lady’s face closed off completely.

Piper started to panic, scrambling for another: “The scent of mums fills the city, the whole town is adorned with…”

“Enough.” The first lady’s voice was cold, cutting Piper off mid-sentence.

Piper stood there, stunned, not understanding what she’d done wrong.

“I’ll let it go this time and not embarrass you, but from now on, don’t come back to the governor’s mansion. A country girl shouldn’t be expected to be anything else.” The words landed like a slap.

With that, the first lady stood and prepared to leave, her mood soured.

“Ma’am.” Piper darted in front of her, unwilling to let it end like this.

“Piper, how dare you block the first lady’s way!” Lily, who’d been biting her tongue all afternoon, finally let loose. I saw her smirk as Piper’s poems flopped.

“I don’t know how I offended you, ma’am.” Piper ignored Lily’s threat, her voice trembling but determined. “I sincerely wrote poems to please you, yet you treat me this way. I don’t accept this.”

The rest of the girls gaped at Piper’s audacity. But I wasn’t surprised. Piper, with her time-traveler’s arrogance, had never learned the rules of high society. She’d gotten away with it at the Whitmore estate because my parents felt guilty and found her unique, but this was the governor’s mansion. Here, a misstep could ruin a family.

I saw the first lady’s eyes flash with anger.

Lily, always quick to read the room, seized her chance. “The first lady was nice enough not to embarrass you, and you don’t even appreciate it! Did you write those poems?!”

“O-of course I wrote them,” Piper stammered, but her voice wavered.

“Piper, how dare you lie to the first lady! That’s unforgivable!” Lily declared, her voice ringing out. “These poems were all written by Marissa, the town’s most talented girl. Yet you dare to fool the first lady with them!”

She hurled the poetry collection at Piper’s feet.

Piper picked it up, flipping through the pages, her face draining of color. She must have realized every poem she knew was in there. In my previous life, Piper published a poetry collection that shocked everyone. The contents were exactly the same as these. Not this time.