invaders must die the prodigy

A jealous, domineering, romantic warlord marshal drives the story.The original Maeve Wilder didn't accidentally drown—she was murdered. In the treacherous governor's mansion filled with scheming hearts, Maeve must find the real killer to survive. She's the legal wife of Marshal Samuel Graham, while her half-sister serves as his concubine. The mansion also houses the old matriarch (Samuel's grandmother) and four other concubines. Beneath the calm surface lurks deadly danger—even her own husband Samuel avoids her.Surrounded by enemies, Maeve uses her exceptional medical skills and intelligence to gradually earn Samuel's trust and uncover the truth behind her "accidental" fall into the well. One by one, seemingly innocent "accidents" reveal their sinister nature—the mansion is a gilded cage that devours people. Meanwhile, Samuel becomes captivated by Maeve's sudden transformation. From coldly watching her survive dangers to rescuing her from fire and water, Samuel finally realizes—he's fallen for her.

I was born broken. My Alpha mother was the one who branded me. She said emotion was a sin. A weakness. Especially for a werewolf. Especially for an Alpha’s heir. The day we were born, she clamped emotion-suppressing collars around our necks. Mine and my twin sister's. The slightest flicker of emotion, and the collar flashed red. My mother would then push the button, injecting me with a diluted "silver solution" to suppress my feelings. But my sister Cassia's collar? Always a calm, steady blue. Even when she shattered Mom's precious moonstone, it just pulsed gently. And me? I’d just whisper, "Mom, the thunder scares me," and my collar would erupt in a violent red. Then came the sting of silver poison burning through my blood.. I used to argue. But Mom always said the same thing. "The data doesn't lie. Pain is a teacher. This is for your own good." After thousands of these injections, I started to believe it, too. That I was born out of control. The night of the alliance's Moon Goddess Festival, Mom was taking my sister to the rooftop party. Something scared me during the day. The collar flashed red, and my mother started the punishment. But this time, the collar malfunctioned. It shot a dose a thousand times stronger into my neck. I collapsed on the carpet, begging, "Mother, the collar... it hurts so much... help me." My collar was flashing a frantic red. My mother just looked down at me, drenched in a cold sweat, and pressed the button for the maximum dose. "You'd lose control like this just for attention? You're a lost cause." She turned, took my sister, and slammed the door. I couldn't help but think, Mom must be right. The collar is red. It doesn't really hurt. I'm just being dramatic, looking for pity again. I'm sorry, Mom. In my next life, I'll be the perfect daughter you always wanted.