《Slave of the blue eyes》


 1 ( plot)

    I heard a story from old times, maybe it''s too old¡ªa story about two lovers who know nothing about love.


    Once upon a time in the magical world of the Ember Empire, where stunning landscapes and ancient civilizations coexist, a fascinating love story became the empire''s legend. This tale, passed down from generation to generation, vividly illustrates themes of passion, betrayal, lies, abandonment, and jealousy, teaching us that one mistake can ruin a person''s happiness.


    At the center of this tale lies a war hero, symbol of strength, intelligence, and courage. With his striking features¡ªa masculine physique, blond hair like golden apple in the myth, and piercing sky blue eyes like the goddess¡ªRepresents the ideal of charm. But beyond his physical attributes, he possesses a keen intellect . Born into a respected and influential family, he carries himself as a polite gentleman, a devoted son, and a caring brother , a king of people''s hearts . It is no wonder that he is regarded as the ideal lover.


    On the other hand, the female lead is a symbol of saintliness, purity, and gentleness. she has a breathtaking figure with bright golden hair and a face that mesmerizes everyone. Her eyes, akin to the vibrant shade of fresh apples, reveal her gentle and sweet spirit. She represents a beauty that is deep and enchanting, winning hearts with her kind and caring spirit..this lovely and fairy couple seems destined to be together and flawless, and their romance is so remarkable that it is talked about quietly and fondly by those who see them together.


    The couple has a perfect romance at first. However, beneath the surface of their idyllic relationship, betrayal and lies appears. argument arises between them , leading to a painful separation. In an attempt to make her partner jealous, the female lead kisses another man in front of the male lead. This impulsive action is not seen as betrayal by the female lead, but for the male lead, a war hero, it is a deep betrayal that makes him very angry. In his anger, he decides to propose to one of his loyal soldiers, who is described as a woman with brown hair and brown eyes like peasant.


    Motivated by her own thirst for revenge, the female lead decides to embrace merriage as well, venturing into an unhappy marriage. The male lead''s new wife faces relentless hostility from others, subjected to cruel insults such as "ugly duckling," "thief," and "cuckoo" To compound her suffering, her in-laws make her life unbearable, tormenting her due to her background as a soldier. Despite the cruel treatment, she clings to the belief that her husband''s love for her persists, drawing solace from his words.


    However, her world shatters when she witnesses her husband passionately kissing his former lover. Overwhelmed by feelings of betrayal and despair, she demands a divorce, only to be met with her husband''s refusal. Unyielding in her determination, she confronts him about the indiscretion, only to face a dismissive claim that it was a mistake, before he callously walks away. Resolute in her pursuit of freedom, she turns to her disdainful in-laws, aware of the challenges that lie ahead. Unexpectedly, they vehemently oppose her wishes, further entangling her in a web of complications.


    Refusing to succumb to fear and intimidation, she gathers her strength and signs the divorce papers, sending them to her husband. Consumed by anger, her husband violently throws the papers, escalating into a physical altercation that leaves her unconscious. Filled with remorse and alarm, he calls for a doctor, and to everyone''s astonishment, they discover that she is pregnant¡ªa revelation that defies the belief that she was infertile. Although her husband finds solace in the unexpected pregnancy, hoping it will bind her to him, but she has different plans. Determined not to remain trapped in a loveless marriage, she makes the heart-wrenching decision not to keep the child.


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    In response to her defiance, her husband locks her away in a desolate room, subjecting her to a life of misery and isolation. As her mental state deteriorates, she battles her inner demons, attempting to harm herself, only to be thwarted by those who surround her, restraining her from her own destruction. In this distressing state, she gives birth to twins¡ªa boy and a girl¡ªboth bearing an uncanny resemblance to her husband. Overwhelmed by fear and unable to accept the children as her own, she try to hurt the babies . However, her husband, in an effort to confine her, wraps her in restraints, effectively imprisoning her and reducing her existence to that of a lifeless figure.


    2 years pass, and she remains confined, living in a state akin to a corpse. Yet, one fateful day, the flame of her resilience is reignited. Summoning every ounce of courage, she escapes the clutches of her torment, leaving behind a life of despair and desolation. The story, shrouded in mystery, fails to unveil her ultimate fate, but whispers and rumors spread the air, suggesting that her husband may have silenced her forever, erasing her presence from the history. . . . .


    "So is she dead?" The little girl inquired, her innocent voice filled with curiosity, "Is she really dead?" The woman, engrossed in her task of cleaning the floor, glanced at the girl and offered a gentle smile. "Who can say for sure? It was 8 years ego " she replied. "It''s merely a tale a gossip, after all," she reassured. However, the little girl remained dissatisfied with this response. "But why?" she persisted, her tone irresistibly adorable. "Why, you ask? My lady, I simply don''t have the answer," the woman replied, maintaining her cheerful countenance.


    The little girl, filled with frustration and sadness, turned to her maid, Mary. "Mary, why didn''t they marry each other if they loved each other? They had the freedom to choose love, but instead, they ruined their relationship. The story of your own country is very strange. In the Lily Empire, people like me are forced to associate with engagement for years until they come of age. but in Ember empire they are using people to live a life they don''t want and playing with them. It''s so sad."


    Mary, understanding the girl''s emotions, tried to offer some perspective. "My lady, love is a complicated and unpredictable thing. Sometimes, despite having feelings for each other, circumstances arise that make it difficult or impossible for people to be together. It''s unfortunate that in the Empire of Lily, arranged marriages can overshadow the freedom to choose one''s own path. But it doesn''t mean you don''t like him"


    The little girl''s teary eyes revealed her deep concern as she asked, "But do you think she''s happy? I wonder if leaving her baby has made her unhappy. A mother never forgets her children, right?"


    Mary knelt down, embracing the little girl tightly. "You are right, my lady. A mother''s love is usually unwavering, and she holds her children dear to her heart. However, we must consider that there might be circumstances we don''t fully understand that led her to make such a difficult choice.and it''s just a tale it not even real."


    The little girl''s anger mixed with her sadness as she exclaimed, "Do you think my mother misses me too, Mary?" Her voice trembled with a mix of longing and pain.


    Mary gently wiped away the girl''s tears and held her even closer. "Of course, my lady. Your mother loved you deeply, and it''s likely that she still does. Sometimes life takes us on unexpected paths, but a mother''s love can endure through it all. Now you need to go . "


    " But marry do I have to see my fiancee " little girl said.


    " Yes my lady, don''t worry too much. " merry reply.


    The little girl felt a glimmer of comfort in Mary''s words, but her anger still lingered. "At least you''re here with me, Mary. I know you don''t like the people of the Ember Empire, but please don''t leave me alone with him." Her voice quivered with a mixture of vulnerability and defiance.


    Mary''s expression softened, understanding the girl''s need for support. "I will never leave your side, my lady. And you won''t be alone. Meg will accompany you."


    The girl''s anger flared, and she lashed out in frustration. "I don''t want Meg! I want you, Mary! You''re the only one who understands me!"


    Mary held her lady tighter, her voice filled with reassurance. "I apologize, my lady, but I cannot do it. I''m sorry," she said. The maid interjected, "My lady, you two can simply have a conversation." The lady sighed, expressing her concerns, "But Mary, I don''t even know his name or his family name. All I know is that he is only 10 years old." The maid was taken aback, surprised by the revelation that he was two years younger than her Lady. "Mary, please," the lady pleaded. "Yes, my lady, I find it difficult to refuse your requests," Mary conceded. But she was lying .


    .


    .


    .


    .


    " This chapter might seem ordinary or similar to other novels, but I promise you, it''s not. I really like this one¡ªI enjoyed writing it and even included my own poems. I''d love to hear your thoughts. Well i don''t think it''s that bad... And you can find this novel ( webnovel royalroad , tapas and dream)

 2

    "Mary, are you sure?" May asked to Mary , while cleaning the floor, Mary responded, " you know my situation , i just i don''t wanna meet someone from that kingdom." Said Mary.


    May paused for a moment, her eyes searching Mary''s face.


    "But why ? Mary i don''t understand" May said, "you can''t let the actions of one man tarnish your view of an entire kingdom. I mean, he is nothing¡ªa peasant. He can''t find you; he doesn''t have the power to do that. I don''t think a commoner could track you down that easily. So why are you afraid of him"


    Mary looked uncertain, but May pressed on. "You have to let go it''s in the past now. "


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    Mary sighed, her slender fingers gripping the cleaning cloth tightly. Her thoughts were chaotic. Most of the maids came from abusive families; some even hailed from noble households. When she first arrived here, she had shared her story¡ªhow she had been trapped in a loveless and abusive marriage, one that left deep scars on her.


    "I know, May," Mary whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "But it''s just... It''s weird , I don''t wanna met.... Of course you''re right, But can you just go with the young lady. Meg will be there too you won''t get bored."


    May''s smile widened, a mischievous glimmer in her eyes. "Fine, but you owe me" she replied playfully, teasing her friend.


    Mary chuckled softly, appreciating May''s lightheartedness amidst their serious conversation. "Yes, I know," she conceded, a sense of gratitude filling her heart. "You should go now. The lady must be waiting. And, May, when you see her, tell her that Mary will be there shortly. We wouldn''t want her to think I''ve vanished."


    "Got it!" May exclaimed, her enthusiasm evident as she darted off towards her next task. "Oh, and Mary, our master mentioned that we should clean the corridor too. you can take care of it!"


    Mary''s smile lingered as she watched May disappear down the hallway.

 3

    Finally, Mary completed her tasks on the first floor. As she made her way towards the second-floor corridor, she exuded an air of calm and tranquility. Six years had passed since she first set foot in this grand mansion, and despite the initial animosity she faced, she had slowly won the hearts of the people within. Her quiet resilience had earned her their respect and friendship.


    Lost in her thoughts, Mary suddenly heard a male voice, faint but distinct. Curiosity piqued, she followed the sound, her steps leading her closer to its source. And there, standing before her, was a young boy with blonde hair and piercing green eyes. Though his age seemed to be around 12 or 13, there was an air of nobility about him, even from a distance. Mary felt a strange familiarity, a nagging question tugging at her mind. "Hello, sir. Do you need something?" she inquired, her voice filled with genuine concern.


    The young boy locked eyes with her, his gaze sharp and commanding, belying his tender age. " I came to see my fianc¨¦e, Lady Daisy," he replied, his voice carrying a childlike innocence that contrasted with his mature appearance.


    "You''re Lady Daisy''s fianc¨¦?" Mary exclaimed, her surprise evident. *But he''s only 10! He looks at least 12!*


    She quickly composed herself and added, "Young Lady Daisy is waiting for you on the first floor, in my master''s office." Her voice carried a blend of curiosity and confusion.


    "I know," the young lord replied, his tone unwavering. Mary observed him for a moment, struck by the fact that despite his age, he exuded an air of self-assuredness and authority. But something about his demeanor hinted at a lack of understanding, as if he was oblivious to the implications of his actions.


    Silence settled between them, stretching for what seemed like an eternity. Mary finally broke the quietude, seeking to guide the young lord. "Do you know the way to my master''s room, sir?" she asked, hoping to assist him further.


    "Of course, I know," he responded, his confidence undeterred. Mary couldn''t help but let out a soft chuckle, quickly stifling it. "Why are you laughing?" he inquired, his gaze fixed on her.


    "I wasn''t, my lord," Mary replied, her voice gentle yet laced with amusement. She returned to her duties, resuming her cleaning tasks, while the young lord embarked on his own journey. Mary knew in her heart that he was likely to get lost, and she patiently awaited his return.


    Time passed, and after what felt like an eternity, the young lord reappeared before her. "Hey, maid. I want you to accompany me to the room. It would be impolite if I were to go alone," he demanded, his words tinged with a touch of arrogance. Mary struggled to contain her laughter, her voice quivering as she responded, "Yes, my lord," her tone a delicate balance between respect and amusement.


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    She guided him through the corridors, leading him towards his destination. As they walked, Mary attempted to engage the young lord in conversation. "So, my lord, what is your name ? " she asked, hoping to establish a friendly rapport. However, his response was dismissive. "Even if you were to learn my name, what would you do with it? You can address me as Lord or Prince," he retorted, his words dripping with condescension.


    Annoyance flickered within Mary, his attitude grating on her nerves. "Of course you are right my lord,then can you tell me which house you belong to?" she pressed on, determined to create a pleasant atmosphere. But once again, his response was curt and dismissive. "You talk too much for a maid," he remarked, his words stinging with arrogance.


    ''what an annoying child'' Suppressing her exasperation, Mary maintained her composure, guiding the young lord to their destination in silence.


    They arrived at their destination, and Mary knocked on the door, seeking permission to enter. "Mary, you''ve come!" Lady Daisy exclaimed with joy. Mary addressed the lady, purposefully mentioning the young lord''s earlier predicament, much to his annoyance. "My lord , l think the young lord was lost, l brought him here," she reported, relishing in the opportunity to tease him.


    "I wasn''t lost," the young lord retorted. Mary couldn''t help but raise an eyebrow at his assertion, silently disagreeing with him. The young lord courteously greeted Lady Daisy and took a seat in front of her. Meanwhile, Mary lingered by the open door, awaiting further instructions. '' l should leave here his face felt familiar same reason , he can be from house Millan ''


    "Mary, aren''t you going to come inside?" Lady Daisy inquired, noticing Mary''s hesitation. "My lady, I actually have somewhere else to be," Mary responded politely. However, her master interjected, requesting that she instruct the maid to prepare the golden guest room. " You need to be hurry Mary, our guest can be here any moment." he said.


    "Yes, Your Grace," Mary acknowledged, her surprise evident. The golden guest room had never been used before, not even by her master''s relatives. As she lowered her head in a bow to her master, an eerie aura filled the room, sending shivers down her spine. She felt a sense of dread but couldn''t comprehend why. she sensed a presence behind her, yet the man stood still, refusing to enter. Mary''s instincts kicked in, and fear gripped her. She wondered who this person was she wanted to look but she felt fear. She felt like prey.


    "Your Grace ," her master addressed the man, further deepening Mary''s trepidation. She wanted turn and she did. She turned her gaze towards him, locking eyes with his intense, striking blue eyes. Tears welled up in Mary''s eyes, overwhelmed by a flood of emotions. "Father, you''ve come," the young lord exclaimed. Mary continued to stare at the man standing before her, her heart pounding in her chest, she felt danger. Everyone in the room trained their eyes on Mary and the man


    In Mary''s eyes, she saw her past as if she were on the brink of her death.


    ++++++Flash back+++++++


    ~~~~


    "I made a mistake; that''s all it was.


    ~~~


    "Amara, will you marry me?


    "Yes, I will."


    ~~~


    "Are you sure ? He doesn''t love you; he loves me!"


    ~~~


    "Max, please let me go. I don''t want to live like this."


    ~~~


    "Do you love me? My love, I know you don''t,free me"


    ~~~


    "Mother I did not kill my children! I did not hurt them. Someone tell me did they die?!"


    --------+++++++++++++


    "You can''t be here," Mary whispered, her voice barely audible. Her voice trembled as she spoke, her fear palpable. The man approached her, his presence looming close to her ear. "Are you sure?" he whispered, sending chills down her spine. Mary, in a panic, tried to push him away and make a dash for her room. However, the man firmly grasped her shoulder, preventing her escape. "Not anymore , Amara" he uttered, his tone filled with certainty.


    In a desperate attempt to free herself, Mary reached for a hidden knife and aimed it towards him, intending to fend him off and flee to safety. After she did , she began to flee. And the man swiftly turned to his companion at his side. "Capture her," he commanded, his voice authoritative. "Yes, sir," came the obedient reply.

 4

    Amara''s heart pounded in her chest as she sprinted through the dimly lit corridors of the mansion. Her mind raced with fear and confusion. How had they found her? How had they infiltrated her sanctuary?


    Desperation fueled her movements as she pushed open the door to her room. In a flurry of hurried motions, she retrieved her hidden cache¡ªa gleaming sword and a ring that concealed her true identity. As she gripped the hilt of her sword, a familiar voice called out her name from behind.


    "Amara!" The voice echoed through the room, causing her to freeze for a moment. It was her best friend. *He is here too.*


    He was her best friend since childhood and also a battlefield companion.


    "I don''t have time, Ethan," Amara said, her voice filled with urgency. " Please."


    Ethan''s eyes displayed a mixture of concern and conflict. "I can''t let you go, Amara," he replied, his voice laced with regret. "The orders I''ve been given..."


    Amara tightened her grip on her sword, her determination resolute. "I understand, Ethan, but I won''t let myself be captured."


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    Ethan nodded, a sense of sorrow crossing his features. "Then we have no choice....."


    "That''s a terrible choice, my friend." As soon as she said these words, she attacked him. She was so fast that Ethan nearly succumbed.


    The room filled with the clash of steel as they engaged in a fierce duel. Their movements were swift and precise, a testament to their years of training together.


    As the clash of swords echoed through the room, Amara''s relentless assault forced Ethan onto the defensive. Her strikes were precise and filled with a determination born from her desperate desire to escape. With a swift maneuver, she disarmed Ethan, causing him to stumble and fall to the ground.


    "Amara , as your friend, I implore you to stop running," he pleaded, his voice laced with concern. But Amara''s anger surged within her, and she couldn''t fathom the idea of relenting.


    Laughter escaped Amara''s lips, but it held a bitter edge. "Ethan, did you really think you would win? Look at yourself," she retorted, her voice laced with defiance. Though her heart ached, she knew she had to keep pushing forward.


    Ethan''s expression wavered between frustration and understanding. "I wasn''t trying to win," he admitted, his voice tinged with remorse. "I was only bait."


    Before Amara could fully comprehend his words, a strong grip seized her shoulder from behind. Fear coursed through her veins as she recognized the presence of the man who had pursued her relentlessly. "I''ve caught you," he declared triumphantly.


    As Amara felt herself being rendered immobile, a shiver ran down her spine. The realization struck her like a bolt of lightning¡ªher captor was indeed employing a powerful form of magic. Panic welled up within her as she struggled against the invisible force that held her in place.


    "You can''t win, you know that," he whispered into her ear, his voice dripping with a mix of arrogance and malevolence. The weight of his words bore down on her, threatening to crush her spirit.


    Determined not to succumb, Amara summoned every ounce of strength left within her. " I Will" she managed to utter, her voice barely audible.


    Yet, despite her fierce determination, the magic gradually took its toll. The world around her began to blur, and her eyelids grew heavy as darkness encroached on her vision. She slipped into unconsciousness.

 5

    "YOU KISS MY BROTHER, SIANNA!!!" the man, Maxwell, yelled at his former lover. Tears streamed down his face as he covered it with his hands in anguish. "Why? Why did you betray me like this?" he cried out in desperation.


    Maxwell had caught Sianna and his own brother in a passionate embrace. The sight shattered his heart, leaving only one question burning in his mind¡ª"Why?" He repeated it again, the single word laced with pain and disbelief.


    Maxwell''s loyal soldiers watched the scene unfold from the narrowly opened doorway. They observed their heroic commander brought low by the heartbreak of a woman''s infidelity. Sadness filled their eyes as they witnessed the downfall of their once mighty leader.


    The room felt constricted, the walls closing in on Maxwell as he grappled with this devastating betrayal. All he had left were the echoes of that agonizing question¡ª"Why?"¡ªringing in the heavy silence.


    The woman, Sianna, stood before Maxwell without a trace of shame. Her expression was cold, unaffected by his anguished cries. "It is your fault, not mine. Don''t you dare put the blame on me, you don''t love me. You just promise to your mom to protect me " Sianna said, her tone harsh and unapologetic. "This is your fault, I kiss him , because it''s your fault. "


    Maxwell stood in silence, he just look at her face with disappointment


    "That tramp! How can he do this?" muttered Bell, one of Maxwell''s loyal soldiers, watching the scene unfold.


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    "I don''t know why he loves her. She''s always doing this," Eliza said, shaking her head.


    "It''s always the same¡ªthey break up, have a fight, and she tries to make our lord jealous so he''ll apologize, and they make up," Ted chimed in.


    "But she''s gone too far this time. Kissing his brother? I don''t think he''ll forgive either of them," Jake remarked grimly.


    "Shall we bet??" Ted asked.


    As they discussed the disastrous turn of events, betting on the outcome of Maxwell and Sianna''s tumultuous relationship, a sarcastic voice suddenly interrupted them.


    "Can I get in on the betting too?" The voice belonged to Amara, a woman who always seemed to appear at the worst possible moments.


    Ted looked at her, instantly regretting having invited Amara to join their speculation. "Uh, of course," he said, a tinge of dread in his tone.


    "What is this scene? Ah, I see now," Amara said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "So, how was the show? Did you have fun watching the spectacle? Is the captain playing his part well?" She paused, her gaze scrutinizing the silent soldiers. "Silence, huh? So you did enjoy the display of your suffering commander''s pain."


    The soldiers fell silent, their expressions a mixture of embarrassment and sadness. They knew they had made a mistake in indulging in the personal drama unfolding before them, rather than showing empathy for their suffering commander.


    "You are supposed to be his trusted soldiers, yet you find amusement in his pain," Amara continued, her disappointment palpable. "Have you no shame? Have you forgotten your duty to support him in his darkest hour?"


    The soldiers averted their gaze, unable to meet Amara''s accusatory stare. They knew they had betrayed the trust placed in them by their leader, and the weight of their mistake weighed heavily upon them.


    "Ethan, you can give them punishment as you see fit," Amara said, her tone stern.


    "Yes, ma''am," Ethan replied.


    "Leave now," Amara commanded the soldiers, who immediately began to walk away, their heads hung low in shame.


    However, just as the soldiers were about to leave, Amara reached out and held Ethan''s arm, stopping him. "Hey, I bet on them breaking up," she said, a glint of mischief in her eyes.


    Ethan couldn''t help but smile at her words. "Still have hope, huh?" he asked.


    "Of course, I''m a dreamer," Amara replied, a hint of playfulness in her voice.

 6

    Their fight was over, and as always, Amara stepped in to clean the room. She worked quietly, listening to Maxwell rant about his life¡ªmostly about his love life. Every time he got drunk, he would tell Amara that he had no intention of marrying Sianna and that he didn''t love her. But the next day, it was always the same: Sianna would show up in tears, Maxwell would forgive her, and the cycle would continue. Maybe it was because he had promised his mother he''d never hurt Sianna, or maybe he was just foolish when it came to love.


    "Amara, do I look stupid?" the man asked sadly, sitting in the chair with a glass of wine in hand.


    "No, sir," Amara replied, her tone respectful. She had fought alongside him in wars for years, and she cared deeply for him, recognizing the pain etched on his face as he took another sip.


    "Tell the truth. Do I look easy to manipulate? Do i look easy to cheat? " he pressed, his eyes searching hers.


    "I don''t know what that means, there is nothing wrong with you " she said, fully aware of his implications. She knew that offering advice rarely led to good outcomes.


    "stop parroting the others! I know I''m the gossip of the town¡ªme and my love, who does whatever she wants. And people thinks I forgive her because I love her." His voice was steady, but the sadness beneath was palpable. He wasn''t crying, yet the heartbreak was evident.


    "Amara, what do you think?" he asked, his voice filled with longing.


    As she cleaned the bottle and garbage, Amara looked at her captain. "I don''t think you''re stupid, sir. I think you''re merely drunk on delusion¡ªyou''re not sober yet."


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    He paused, setting down the glass and fixing his gaze on her. "What do you mean, drunk?"


    ""Love is similar to being drunk," she said. "In the beginning, it''s amazing, almost euphoric. You lose your sense of direction, and everything feels good¡ªyou can''t see or hear things clearly, and you''re off your path. But when the high fades, you''re left with a pounding headache and regret, wishing you hadn''t indulged. Yet, you return to it because that feeling is just so comforting."


    He looked at her, feeling a sense of comfort from her words, he was not drunk . Yet Amara still believed he was drunk, convinced he would never remember this conversation¡ªit was always like this. He would fight, confide in Amara, apologize to his lover, and they would reconcile, a cycle everyone had come to accept.


    Max, however, listened intently. Her words brought him relief, even though he had never experienced such feelings himself. He watched Amara, focused as ever on her cleaning, her routine a constant in the chaos.


    "Amara,  you think I will forgive him this time, right?" he asked, the seriousness in his voice striking her.


    Amara looked at him, sensing the unusual weight behind his question. "I don''t know, sir," she replied and smile.


    Amara continued cleaning in silence, her mind racing. "I''m not drunk, Amara, did you hear our conversation?" he said suddenly, dropping his drink on the floor, the glass shattering. He looked at her, and she was surprised; he had never done this before.


    "No sir?" she asked, a mix of fear and curiosity bubbling within her. She worried he might respond with anger or something dismissive.


    "You didn''t hear?" he smiled, his expression softening.


    "I weren''t listening to your conversations, sir ." Amara replied, her voice steady but cautious.


    Max regarded her, a warm smile playing on his lips. He knew she was still the same¡ªquiet and reserved, often misunderstood as having no interest in conversation when, in truth, she was merely scared.


    "Hmmm She kissed my brother to punish me," Max said, his tone shifting to one of vulnerability.

 7

    Amara had heard their conversation, but she couldn''t admit it. Still, she didn''t look surprised when Max finally confessed. He smiled, his gaze settling on her golden eyes. There was something about them¡ªsomething steady and unwavering¡ªthat made him feel calm.


    " Still going to lie?" Max said, a heavy smile creeping across his face as he sank down onto the floor, lying back with a sigh.


    "I''m sorry, I didn''t mean to lie," Amara replied, her heart sinking. She hadn''t expected him to share such a revelation. He must be really drunk this time, she thought.


    "Don''t be sad. I know everyone heard us¡ªor saw her kiss my brother," Max said, his voice tinged with disbelief.


    "Why did she do this? I thought at least she will respect me." he mused, more to himself than to her. But Amara felt compelled to answer.


    "Maybe she wanted to make you jealous because she loves you," Amara suggested softly, hoping to soothe the ache in his heart.


    Max smiled painfully, shaking his head. "No....no. ..She doesn''t love me," he replied, his voice filled with resignation. "She doesn''t love me....I saw with my own eyes her true purpose, her real gain.... I saw the way she looked at me, with filth in her eyes. She kissed him because she thought my brother would get the title, because my father favors him. She wants to be grand duchess."


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    Amara was not surprised; deep down, she had always known this truth but couldn''t bring herself to tell him. He loved her, and she couldn''t bear to shatter that fragile hope.


    She looked down at the man sprawled on the floor, lost in his thoughts.


    "Amara," Max said, his voice a whisper.


    "Yes, sir?" she responded, the formality of her tone contrasting with the intimacy of the moment.


    He tried to close his eyes, using his shoulder as a pillow, seeking solace in the darkness. "Amara," he repeated, his voice thick with emotion.


    "Yes, sir," she replied again, a hint of worry threading through her words.


    "Amara," he said once more, almost pleadingly.


    "Yes ,Maxwell," she replied, lifting her gaze to meet his.


    "What am I going to do now?" Max asked softly, his gaze locked onto Amara''s eyes with an intensity that made her heart race.


    She instinctively looked away, turning her focus back to the mess around the room. "I don''t know, sir," Amara replied, forcing herself to concentrate on collecting the garbage.


    "You''re not a maid, Amara. Stop cleaning and give me your thoughts," Max insisted, his tone firm yet vulnerable.


    She hesitated, then met his gaze again. "Sir," she took a deep breath, "if you love her....."


    "I''m not in love with her Amara. Enough with this." Max said.


    Amara searched his eyes, sensing the truth beneath his words. "Then why are you with her?" she asked, regretting the question the moment it left her lips.


    Max looked at her, surprise flickering across his face. He had expected her to withdraw or offer a noncommittal response, not this direct challenge.


    "I''m sorry, sir, I didn''t mean to¡ª" she stammered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.


    "It''s true; no need to apologize," Max replied, a small, genuine smile breaking through his previous melancholy.

 8

    "She was my childhood friend. When my mother passed away, she stood by my side, sharing in my pain. When my father remarried, she was my supporter.....


    I won''t deny it¡ªI didn''t like her at first. But your question*"She was my childhood friend. When my mother passed away, she stood by my side, sharing my pain. When my father remarried, she was my supporters Maybe that''s why I can''t bring myself to let her go, despite the hurt she''s caused, the lies she''s told, and the embarrassment she''s brought upon me."*


    Max''s voice was steady, but there was a distant look in his eyes.


    *"I won''t deny it¡ªI didn''t like her at first. But your question lingers: Why am I still with her? It''s the memories that bind me. I can''t seem to let go of the past¡ªmaybe it''s the promise I made or the happy moments we once had.i did trust her i told everything."* He let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head.* But She is not my future, I know that."*


    He was drunk¡ªbut not enough to forget. His words were raw, unfiltered, yet he knew exactly what he was saying..


    Amara whispered, "I don''t understand," her voice barely breaking the stillness, yet Max caught the tremor in her words. He turned to her, surprise flickering in his eyes. "You don''t understand?" he echoed, curiosity piqued.


    With a slight tremor in her heart, Amara met his gaze, a mixture of fear and determination swirling within her. She took a step closer, crossing the invisible line that separated them. "Yes," she said, her tone firming as confidence surged. "I don''t understand why you''re sad."


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    Her voice hung in the air, fragile yet resolute, and Max''s eyes widened, astonished by her boldness. He remained silent, a silent invitation for her to continue.


    "You don''t trust her," she pressed, her heart racing. "If you did, why didn''t you tell her you''re the heir?"


    Amara understood that she was no friend to him. Yet tonight, even as he teetered on the edge of drunkenness, she felt an undeniable urge to confront him, to speak her truth. Tomorrow might bring departure, and she didn''t want to leave without saying what had long been bottled up inside her.


    For too long, she had yearned to share laughter and conversation, but instead, she had settled for the role of a silent shadow in his life. She watched him from distance.


    "How do you know that?" Max asked, his gaze piercing into hers.


    "You''re the princess''s son; it''s supposed to be you," Amara replied, her voice steady, though she was lying. The truth was, she had overheard a conversation between Max and her father.


    "Amara, she knows that too, but she didn''t¡­" Max trailed off, his words hanging in the air. His eyes locked onto hers, and an unsettling silence fell between them.


    "What are you going to do now? Are you still..." Amara finally asked.


    "No I won''t " he said.


    "Then What are you going to do now?" She asked.


    " Well, I''m 21 I think I''m going to get married when my father chooses someone, or maybe I''ll choose myself," he said, opening his eyes wide. A smile crept across his face as he added, "I have someone in mind."


    He looked directly into Amara''s eyes, but she quickly turned her face away.


    "What about you, Amara?" Max shifted the topic.


    "Excuse me?" Amara replied, surprised.


    "I heard you''re leaving today or tomorrow. Why?" he asked.


    ""I have to go to my parents'' house. I miss them. I was away from home for more than three years because of the war. They must miss me too. You know I came here when I was just 14 or 15," Amara said.


    Max, however, only laughed in response. He knew her too well. Whenever Amara lied, she had a habit of over-explaining.


    "You miss them?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he stood up and lazily dropped onto the couch.

 9

    Max stood up and walk close to her


    Amara regarded him with a puzzled expression, her mind racing with questions. *Why did he respond like that?* Max caught her gaze and smiled, an unexpected warmth in his eyes.


    "Amara, do you know the rumor about me and my father?" he asked suddenly.


    She remained silent, her heart fluttering. Of course, she had heard the whispers, but she chose not to voice them.


    "As you''ve heard, it''s about me coming here. They say that when my father remarried, he forgot me, that he focused solely on his new family and tried to get rid of me by sending me away. Here " He chuckled lightly, but there was an edge to his laughter. "But the truth is, I came here by choice. My father actually tried to bring me back home¡ªhe made multiple attempts."


    He turned to her, his smile softening. "But you already know this, don''t you?"


    Amara met his gaze, confusion swirling in her mind. *I hope he is drunk?*


    "Sir, what do you mean?" Amara asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.


    "I''m saying, Amara, why are you lying?" Max replied, his blue eyes piercing through her defenses.


    "What? Sir, I''m not lying," she said, striving to maintain a calm demeanor, but it felt futile against the certainty in his gaze. Max was all too aware of her family''s situation.


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    "Amara, the rumor about you coming here on purpose¡ªthat you''re just a spoiled girl making your family angry¡ªI already know it''s fabricated.and truth , It''s made by you. We''ve known each other long enough for me to see the truth. I''ve witnessed the way they treat you, the abuse, the insults. And that''s just what I can see; I can only imagine the things you''ve kept hidden."


    Amara stared at him in silence, realizing there was no point in hiding the truth any longer.


    "Amara, why are you leaving?" he pressed again, his voice steady but filled with concern.


    "I''m going to be engaged to Lord Len, I have to go." she replied, the words feeling heavy. She didn''t want to admit it, especially not to the one she loved, but she knew it was her reality. Max''s face suddenly changed, his smirk fading as his expression hardened. His playful demeanor disappeared in an instant "Len? Lord Len? Are you being forced? How ? He is looks like 100"


    "He''s not that old," she said in a calm voice, trying to steady her emotions.


    Max raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Old enough¡ªhe''s like 40 or more," he retorted.


    "And I''m 20! I don''t see your point," she replied, her resolve hardening. She respected Lord Len; he had always treated her kindly. Even though this engagement was forced by her family, she found some comfort in the idea of marrying him.


    "But you don''t even like him. If your family is forcing you, you know you can always come here, right?" Max insisted, stepping closer, his gaze intense.


    Amara held her ground, refusing to waver. "So what, sir? He''s a good match for me. I respect him. He is a really good person," she replied, striving to keep her voice steady.


    Max searched her face, his frustration evident. "Respect isn''t love, Amara," he said


    " And?" She said.


    "Don''t merry him , i,you don''t even love him," he repeated, leaning in even more, their faces just inches apart.


    "I do respect him, and I think he''ll be good to me," she said, struggling to maintain her composure.


    "I told you no! I refuse this marriage!"


    "I don''t think you have authority over this" ?" Amara said.


    "He''s old enough to be your father, Amara!"


    "I don''t think I have that kind of choice," she said, her voice quieter but firm. "I have to marry someone eventually, and Lord Len is the best choice for me."


    "No, no," Max shook his head in frustration. "You don''t love him!"


    Amara met his gaze without hesitation. "Yes, I don''t love him. But I can build a family with him."


    "But you love me, you can''t create family if you love someone else " Max said, his voice low as he closed the distance between them. Amara could feel his breath.

 10

    "and you don''t love me, it''s same thing." Amara said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her.


    "But you don''t love him either," Max countered, his gaze unwavering.


    Amara looked at him, puzzled. "Sir, you''ve had too much to drink. You should rest, please rest and shut up." she said, turning to walk away. But Max wouldn''t let her go; he grasped her hand firmly.


    "I''m not drunk, Amara," he insisted, his tone serious.


    "Let me go, sir," she replied, anger bubbling beneath her calm exterior.


    "Why do you accept something like this?" he urged, frustration mingling with desperation.


    Amara still didn''t understand what he wanted from her. "What do you want me to do?why are You acting weird? be professional we are not even friends." she asked, seeking clarity.


    Max just looked into her eyes, unable to let go of her hand. If she left right now, he knew he would never see her eyes again. She was right¡ªshe wasn''t his friend. They had both been young when they attended this military school, and now, everyone had left except for three people. Every time Max tried to get closer, Amara always remained distant, silent. She tried to keep things professional, but Maxwell knew she liked him¡ªher eyes told him everything. He couldn''t lose her. Today, Sianna and his brother had betrayed him enough. If Amara left, he would be all alone.


    "Marry me," Max said, his words hanging in the air like a dare.


    She stepped back, her eyes wide with shock. It felt like a dream come true, yet everything about it felt wrong. "Marry you? What? ..... No...., no,What''s your reason for asking this ridiculous question? at least give me a solid reason. .... You don''t even love me Maxwell" she repeated, her voice trembling with confusion and disbelief.


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    "You don''t love him, either" he shot back.


    "But you love her" she shot back.


    "I know that I don''t love Alice," he said, his voice laced with a hint of regret. "Like I said, it''s just the memories that haunt me or the promise I made a long time ago. In reality, it''s empty." He stepped closer, his gaze intense. "But I know you love me, Amara," he added, his tone growing more certain, as if trying to convince not only her but himself as well.


    "So? It would be painful for me to marry you, you know that " she said, their eyes locked in an intense gaze.


    "Marry me," Max urged again.


    "Enough with this Maxwell! ," she said, trying to pull away.


    But Max held her tight. "Marry me," he repeated, his voice low and urgent.


    "You only want to use me. What chage suddenly. Why would I want to marry you? Why are you asking me now?" Amara snapped, her anger finally breaking through.


    Max knew this was a selfish move, but he couldn''t bear the thought of her with anyone else. " Then use me Amara. I will use you and you will use me" he said.


    "What does that even mean?" Amara asked with confusion.


    Max''s gaze dropped to her lips, and Amara felt a rush of awareness. "Do not dare!" she warned, but Max didn''t seem to care. He leaned in, closing the distance between them, and pressed his lips against hers.


    It wasn''t a passionate kiss; it was gentle and sweet, a tender exploration that sent shivers down her spine. As he pulled back slightly, he leaned closer to her ear and whispered, "i told you to Use me."


    Amara looked at him, her heart racing.


    "Use me," he repeated.


    Amara felt her mind go blank, a white haze clouding her thoughts as she stared at him, caught in the moment. She knew she would accept, but the words wouldn''t come.


    Max released her and knelt before her, his eyes searching hers. "Will you marry me?" he asked, sincerity etched across his face.


    Amara struggled to understand his motives; perhaps he wanted to escape from his lover or seek revenge, just as she longed to break free from her family''s abuse. She could use him, too, but would it be worth the pain that might follow?


    "Yes, yes i will marry you " she said, the word slipping from her lips before she could fully comprehend it. It felt surreal, as if she were stepping into a dream or nightmare.


    Max extended his hand to Amara. As soon as she took it, everything went white.


    "What?" she gasped, watching as the world around her vanished. "Max?" she yelled, her voice echoing in the emptiness.


    But she found herself in a void. "Where am I?" she whispered, dread creeping in.


    Then it dawned on her¡ªshe was seeing the past, those moments when he had promised her everything. This was a magic spell Max had cast to ensnare her mind.


    "I can''t believe I was under his spell," she murmured, realizing the gravity of her situation. The spell conjured sweet memories, but were they truly sweet for her?


    "I will wake up, won''t I? I can''t believe this. I can''t believe he found me. I''ve run for years¡ªwhy now? Is he that angry? But why? I left him for his lover. They ruined me, took everything from me. I lost two lives because of them. They should be happy together, right? Why are you doing this to me?"


    Her tears flowed freely as she spoke, her heart heavy with sorrow and confusion. *Why are you here?* she thought, losing her grip on reality, consumed by the whirlwind of her emotions.

 11

    When Amara opened her eyes, she found herself in the room she had prepared for the special guest of her master. *That means it was her,* she thought, feeling a wave of foolishness wash over her. *I''m really stupid.*


    She glanced around; the room was gloomy, despite the light filtering in. An inexplicable heaviness hung in the air. Suddenly, she felt a gaze upon her. Turning slowly, she saw Max sitting in a chair, his piercing eyes fixed on her.


    His face looked older, more worn. He had grown thinner, and a stubble beard adorned his jaw, unkempt and rough. Yet, his eyes never wavered; he held her gaze with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.


    Amara stared back at him, her expression blank, silence felt eternal. The room filled with unspoken words.


    Neither of them wanted to talk or cry; they simply stared at each other, the silence stretching between them like an unbreakable barrier. Max waited for her to cry, to yell, to curse him¡ªit would have been easier for him to bear. But Amara had matured, and she refused to show him any sign of weakness.


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    She remained silent, her resolve hardening as she waited for him to speak or to leave.


    The room grew darker and darker, the light fading as they remained locked in silence. Neither of them noticed how many minutes had passed, but slowly, Amara became aware of a nagging thirst. She felt dry and uncomfortable, but she said nothing, choosing instead to wait for him to break the silence.


    With each passing moment, her throat felt more more uncomfortable, the need for water becoming more urgent. Still, she held her tongue, determined to maintain her composure, even as her body betrayed her with its longing.


    But Max noticed how thirsty she was, reading her body language. He reached for a pitcher and glass, slowly filling the glass with water. With deliberate steps, he walked toward Amara.


    "Drink," he said, his voice thick and low.


    Amara took the glass from him, her hands trembling slightly as she brought it to her lips. "Thank you," she whispered, the words barely escaping her mouth.


    Max settled back into his chair. "Are you okay?" he asked, his gaze fixed on her.


    Amara offered a painful smile. "Not really," she whispered, the word


    He nodded slowly, feeling the weight of her pain. "I see," he said softly, searching for the right words but finding only silence in response.

 12

    "Why are you here, Max?" Amara asked, her voice a blend of curiosity and defiance.


    "I think it''s obvious, Amara. I came to take you home," Max replied, a hint of desperation creeping into his tone.


    "No," she said simply, her gaze drifting away. "I don''t have a home to go to." Her voice softened, but the weight of her words lingered.


    "Amara," Max stepped closer, his eyes pleading as he grappled with his emotions. "I miss you. Please don''t make me force you."


    "You miss me?" she echoed, a bitter smile crossing her lips. "What about your lover? Aren''t you happy with her? It would be strange to have both of us there."


    "She means nothing to me, you know that. When will you forgive me?" Max''s frustration surged as he ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of helplessness.


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    "Maybe I need time," Amara replied, her voice cold and distant.


    "I gave you eight years! Eight years!" Max''s voice rose, filled with a mix of anger and sorrow. "Eight years, and you think I didn''t know you were here? Did you believe I lost you? I let you live your life while I waited. I waited patiently, my love, but I can''t do this anymore. We miss you."


    "Wait more, Max. Wait more , Suffer more . But don''t lie to yourself about missing me." she said. Without showing expression


    Max took a deep breath, striving to calm himself. He felt on the verge of tears as he stepped closer to Amara, bending his knees to meet her gaze. His eyes, filled with longing, searched hers for any hint of understanding.


    But Amara looked back at him with a mix of disdain and hurt, her expression hardening as she turned away.


    "I waited, yearning for your forgiveness, sacrificing everything and losing myself in the shadows of regret. I despise what I''ve become, yet I am consumed by a desperate need for your understanding. Just a single word from you could ignite a flicker of joy within me¡ªcan this not be love? I''ve tried to exist without you, but the pain is too much to bear. I am desperate¡ªcan''t you see? Please, look at me. I miss you deeply. I miss everything about you: your laughter, your tears, your smile, your voice¡ªeach thread of you woven into the fabric of my being," Max implored.


    Amara''s anger flared as she yelled, "Fool me? You dare to take me for a fool again? What is this but a desperate performance? I witnessed it all¡ªI saw you calling her beautiful, felt the sting of your kiss upon her lips. In that instant, my paradise shattered, never to bloom again. I hate you. I despise you with every fiber of my being. I lost everything, everything I lost my 2 life for your love stop husting me please".

 13

    "I''m not fooling you. I never fooled you. I never loved her. The kiss was hers, not mine. She is nothing¡ªliterally nothing¡ªcompared to you, she is Nothing. You always knew the truth about what happened, i know you knew, yet you chose to run away¡ªrun away and leave us! Unbelievable!........I apologized again and again, but you still left us!....." Max painfully laughed "If you want me to free you, then first you have to free me, free us " Max said, his voice trembling with emotion.


    "What nonsense are you spouting about freeing you? Leaving us? You claim you don''t love her, yet here you are, bringing your bastard child before me. Do you think I didn''t know? The entire country whispers of your affair; they know you and she have a child together. And you brought him here¡ªdo you hate me that much? You know I loved you. We had two children together! At the very least, I deserve a little respecy Max. I want just a little respect," Amara said, tears brimming in her eyes.


    Max was taken aback by her words. "I can''t, I can''t go with you! I won''t!" Amara exclaimed, her voice rising in desperation.


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    "Amara, what are you talking about?" Max asked, bewildered.


    "No! I''m not going back! Not to that hell! I can''t!" Amara yelled, her emotions boiling over.


    "Amara! Please, calm down," he implored, his heart racing as he struggled to understand her turmoil.


    "Go live with your mistresses and your bastard child happily," Amara spat, her voice trembling with pain. "Just leave me be. Please, don''t make me beg."


    Max''s anger erupted. "What the hell are you talking about?" he yelled, his frustration boiling over. "What bastard child? We had two children? Amara, we have two children! You don''t even recognize your own son!" His laughter was laced with anger, and in a desperate attempt to calm himself, he tugged at his hair, feeling the tension coursing through him.


    "My son? Do you really think I wouldn''t know my own son?" Amara''s voice quivered as she spoke, her body trembling. "He had blue eyes, not green. Are you joking ? Are you having fun, Max? My son and daughter are dead. Why are you doing this to me. Leave me alone please "


    Max felt a jolt at her words, confusion mingling with disbelief. "He has blue eyes, Amara. He changed with mana," he said. Then he remembered the past he pieces of the past were still jumbled in his mind, not fitting together but now ....


    "You think they died? You really think they died?" He shook his head in disbelief, unable to fathom the weight of her claim. "I can''t believe this . You really think they die.".

 14

    "You should leave," Amara said, her voice was silent.


    "I won''t go without you, Amara," Max replied with desperation.


    "I''ve had enough of your deceit. Just go," she try to convince him.


    "That''s not a lie, Amara," he said


    "Should I trust your words or the evidence before me? I have a witness, you know. So please, spare me , free me ," she retorted, her eyes blazing.


    "Who, Len? Ah, my love, you place your faith in your ex-fianc¨¦? How tragically na?ve. He''s been weaving lies around you for years i can now see. He trick you to come back to him." Max laughed.


    "I hate you, Max," Amara said softly. "I truly hate you."


    "I refuse to engage in this childish game any longer. I am tired ¡ªso very tired ¡ªof running from you," she confessed.


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    "Then don''t run," he urged, a flicker of hope igniting in his chest.


    "They die, Max. I can''t..."


    Max stepped closer, panic etched across his features as he cupped Amara''s face in his hands, drawing her near. His eyes searched hers with a fierce desperation, a flicker of fear reflected back at him that she fought to suppress.


    "They didn''t die, Amara. They''re alive," he whispered, his voice trembling with fear


    "Let me go," she pleaded.


    "I never had an affair with that woman. I don''t have a child with her. Listen to me!Our children are alive ! They didn''t die!," he insisted, his heart aching with the weight of his words.


    But Amara''s resolve shattered as she shouted, "Let me go!!!" She hit him, struggling against his grips


    "Do you truly think I can believe you? You cannot deceive me, Max. I held them¡ªI felt their cold bodies in my arms!" she cried, her tears spilling over like a river of grief. "I saw them with my own eyes. Don''t lie to me. I witnessed their lifeless forms with my own hands. I know they died because of me. I accept that. You have every right to hate me, so please, I beg you¡ªleave me or end this, kill me" she said.


    Max pulled her tightly, his grip almost choking. Amara struggled against him, but the weight of her exhaustion¡ªboth mental and emotional¡ªleft her too weary to fight back effectively.


    "Let me go. You have no right to hold me like this," she said, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and sorrow.


    "Listen to me, they are not dead," Max said softly, his voice laced with urgency.


    "Stop this! You think I can believe you? I''ve seen the truth. Len confirmed their deaths. Your mother and sister showed me" Amara''s voice rose, filled with anguish. "They accused me of killing them! You locked me in my room! You killed me there! You locked me ! I detest you. I detest you!"


    "I never did that," Max replied, confusion surrounded him.


    "Let me go!" Amara shouted.


    He Taken aback, Max instinctively released her. He stood there, lost in thought, sifting through the tangled memories of their past, desperately seeking clarity amid the chaos of their shared history.

 15

    "Leave," Amara uttered, her voice a mere whisper.


    "I won''t," Max replied firmly.


    To their surprise, the door swung open, and Amara''s breath caught in her throat. Standing there was a boy who bore an uncanny resemblance to Max, yet his eyes were a striking blue. Perhaps her exhaustion was playing tricks on her, Maybe he was tired of yelling to Max


    "What are you doing here?" Max asked the boy, his voice a mix of concern and irritation.


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    The boy looked up at him, sadness flickering in his gaze, mingled with a hint of fear. "I heard screaming," he said, his voice trembling as he tried to meet Amara''s eyes, his own welling with unshed tears.


    "Leave now," Max commanded.


    "But Dad..." the boy said with unspoken emotions.


    "Axel, leave!" Max yelled at the little boy. Scared, Axel quickly closed the door behind him.


    Max turned to Amara, running a hand through his hair as he approached her. He took one of her hands.


    "Let my hand go," Amara said firmly.


    But Max tightened his grip, tying her hand to the bed.


    "Great," Amara replied sarcastically. " Now I can''t run."


    Max knew what he had done was foolish, but he couldn''t think of any other option. He glanced at her one last time before turning and leaving the room.

 16

    "Your ladyship¡ªI mean, your Grace¡ªmay I come in?" one of the maids said as she gently pushed the door open. Amara recognized the voice immediately but remained silent, a wave of embarrassment washing over her.


    "I''ll be coming!" she called, her voice soft and hesitant. She opened the door, avoiding eye contact. The maid entered, arms laden with supplies, and closed the door with her foot.


    The room was dim, illuminated only by the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window, casting shadows across Amara''s face. The maid glanced at Amara, sensing the pain etched in her features. Though she knew she should say something comforting, words eluded her.


    "I brought you water and some food you like," the maid said, setting down her burden. She pulled out a chair and sat quietly, watching Amara.


    Amara looked at her. "What is it, Meg?"


    "The Duke said to watch you eat until the last piece," Meg replied, her eyes wide with concern.


    "You''re really not going to ask anything? Just watch me?" Amara questioned, a hint of frustration in her voice.


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    "Well, I do want to talk, but I already know you''re noble like me, and I don''t want you to wither away. You need to eat, and then we can talk," Meg said, offering a reassuring smile.


    Amara met her gaze but said nothing, slowly eating her food. "You''re really just going to watch?" she asked.


    "Yes," Meg confirmed.


    As Amara finished her meal, she finally spoke. "My story isn''t any different from yours, so don''t worry."


    " so different then mine. " She said. " I always knew you had a story, just like everyone else. But your eyes made us believe your pain ran deeper than ours. So, we didn''t question it. We stopped asking. We just watched you. You were silent, like flowers stripped of their petals," Meg said, her voice soft.


    "How do you know I was a lady?" Amara asked, a hint of confusion in her tone.


    "You didn''t see yourself through our eyes, Mary , Amara. I''m sorry. Even when you did chores, you did them with such elegance. It was strange to witness someone so graceful¡ªnone of us carried ourselves like you did," Meg replied, her admiration evident.


    "Do you think he''s still the same person?" Meg asked.


    "He doesn''t look like the man I once knew," Amara replied, gazing into the distance.


    "Well, no one remains unchanged," Meg said, a hint of sadness in her tone.


    "Perhaps you''re right," Amara admitted, lowering her eyes.


    ""But will you truly leave? Will you find happiness?" Meg asked, her voice a gentle and show her concern. "I''ve never seen you genuinely smile; it''s as if your joy has always been masked by pain in you."


    "I''ve almost forgotten the warmth of a genuine smile," Amara confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.


    "What will you do? This endless running¡ªdoes it hold any worth?" Meg said,showing her concern.


    "I don''t know," Amara said, her voice catching as tears filled her eyes. She paused, gathering her thoughts. "I''m weary of running from my own story. It''s the only path I''ve ever known. If I accept him, it feels like a betrayal of who I am," she confessed, her heart weighed down by the turmoil within.

 17

    "So, what are you planning to do?" Meg asked.


    "I will leave," Amara replied.


    "When?" Meg said.


    "Tonight," Amara answered.


    "Tonight? Do you really think you can manage to escape? They''ve chained you," Meg said, disbelief coloring her tone.


    "What? This? Meg, this is nothing for me. The real problem is I need my magic stone to erase my existence," Amara stated, her voice steady.


    "What is that? Does something like that even exist?" Meg questioned, her curiosity piqued.


    "Yes, and it''s costly too. I have a friend who can help me escape if I get it," Amara explained.


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    "But haven''t they found everything you have? How can you retrieve it?" Meg countered, doubt creeping in.


    "No, I actually hid it in our lady''s room¡ªin her dressing room. You need to get it for me, Meg. Then I can escape," Amara insisted.


    "You want me to get it? Wait... okay... I''ll do it. Yes, I can, but where is it?" Meg asked, her resolve building.


    "In her blue dress," Amara replied.


    Meg nodded and hurried out the door, leaving Amara alone. She broke the chains binding her and walked to the window, gazing out into the night. "I''m tired of lying," she whispered, opening the locked drawer where the magic stone lay hidden. She had stashed it there for emergencies, knowing no one would suspect its presence in a room rarely used by her master. She was aware they would follow Meg, so she had deceived them. Yet, the thought of leaving brought a pang of sadness. "It''s always painful," she mumbled to herself.


    She glanced into the mirror. "Coward, as always," she said, her reflection mocking her.


    "I need to hurry. He''ll follow Meg; I have maybe ten minutes at most," she urged herself.


    Quickly, she approached the window, but suddenly the door swung open. Amara braced herself for a fight, ready to confront whatever came next¡ª she didn''t care about death. "You! think¡ª" she began, but her words died as she turned to see the boy standing there, his blue eyes strikingly familiar. Could it be true what Max had said? "No, it can''t be," she thought, disbelief washing over her.


    "You should leave," the boy said coldly, yet his palm was blood in it,


    Amara remained silent, her heart racing. "I know you will," he continued, his voice steady.


    "I''m not your mother," Amara shot back, urgency pressing down on her.


    Time was slipping away; she had to escape. She grasped the window ledge, ready to jump, but her body betrayed her, refusing to move.


    "I hope you die," the boy said, his tone chilling.


    "I hope," Amara reply, though her body remained rooted.


    "Useless woman," the boy whispered. Amara met his gaze, locking eyes with him.

 18

    "They were right you''re the useless woman !" little boy cried , his voice trembling. "But my sister, she didn''t listen to them. She''s the foolish one! ?sn''t she? " He fought to hold back his tears, but couldn''t make it " you should go, you have to leave , You left us! You abandoned us! They mock us because of you! They call us liars! They even try to hit us! It''s all your fault! Why did you even have us? What sin did we commit to deserve this? Leave ! Please leave !" His voice rose in anguish, though he didn''t know the full truth.


    "Go! Just leave! Escape again! I don''t understand why Father won''t let you go!" he shouted, hiccuping, tears streaking down his flushed face. His eyes, once bright, now mirrored the depths of his despair, a haunting blue. "You heartless woman!"


    Amara gazed at the little boy, her heart aching. *He''s right. He bears Max''s resemblance, and his tears are a desperate plea for me. This isn''t a lie. Am I really his mother? Are they alive? His tears don''t look fake. Or am I just a fool once again?*


    But the boy''s voice shattered her thoughts, filled with raw anguish. "You have no right to cry or look at me! My sister might be a fool, but I''m not. You are not my mother! Leave!" His voice trembled with fear, yet he stood his ground, refusing to back away.


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    Amara was taken aback. *Crying? Am I?* She suddenly realized she was weeping, her body reacting without her consent, the weight of her emotions spilling forth like a flood she could no longer contain.


    Amara remained still at the window, her heart heavy. "Do you want me to leave?" she asked, gazing into his tear-filled blue eyes, which felt like daggers piercing her soul.


    "Yes! Don''t ever come back! We don''t need you!" the boy replied, his small hands desperately trying to wipe away his tears.


    "Then why are you crying?" she pressed, stepping closer.


    "It''s happy tears," he said with a painful laugh, though his tears continued to flow uncontrollably. "I''m just glad I was right, not the wrong one."


    Amara knelt down to meet his gaze, wrapping her arms around him tightly.


    "Go! Leave!" the little boy insisted, but he didn''t push her away.


    "I don''t want to leave," she whispered into his ear, her voice breaking.


    "Leave," he murmured, almost inaudibly.


    "I can''t leave," Amara replied, her heart shattering.


    In that moment, silence enveloped them, and the boy began to release his grief. He cried like a baby, clinging to her as if she were his only refuge. They both wept together, lost in their pain, embracing tightly as the flood of emotions poured out. He was screaming, crying, trembling and hugging her.


    .


    .

 19

    "Where is the blue dress? I can''t believe this; I need to hurry!" Meg exclaimed, frantically searching through the lady''s wardrobe. But all she found were pink, red, purple, and orange dresses, with only a couple of green garments that were close to blue. Desperation clawed at her as she rummaged through the fabric.


    "What are you searching for, maid?" a voice interrupted, sending a jolt of fear through her.


    "Ahhhh! You scared me, Your Grace!" she stammered, turning to face Max.


    "What are you searching for? I asked," he pressed, his tone sharp. He knew about the magic stone that belonged to Amara, but he couldn''t find it. He had sent Meg who is close to her and he follow her and was now desperately waiting for a clue.


    "Your Grace, I was... just picking some clothes for my lady," Meg uttered, her voice quivering. But Max had little patience for her lies.


    "Riven!" he commanded, and his trusted guard immediately understood. Riven stepped forward, his movements swift and precise. He seized Meg by the arm, pulling her behind him, and drew his sword, pressing the blade to her throat.


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    The suddenness of it all left Meg bewildered. She barely registered what was happening; it was all too fast.


    "You... Your Grace," Meg stammered, her voice barely a whisper.


    "Tell me, or you won''t die painlessly," Max threatened, his gaze fierce. Inside, Meg whispered a silent apology to Amara, fearing the consequences of her next words.


    "In the blue dress," she finally admitted, her voice shaking.


    Max and Riven exchanged glances and began searching the room, but they found no trace of the blue dress or anything resembling it.


    "Sir, there is no blue dress. Not even one," Riven reported, a hint of confusion in his tone.


    Max let out a laugh, bitter and incredulous. Amara was playing with him; he knew there was no blue dress.


    "You search. I will go to Amara," he said, turning sharply on his heel and leaving the room. He walked quickly, frustration propelling him forward. "I can''t believe I was tricked again," he muttered under his breath. "Amara, please don''t make me force you please" He whispered.


    As he approached the door, Max felt his heart racing like a horse in battle. Cold sweat trickled down his back, sending a chill through him. Even if she tried to run, he knew he could catch her, but the sense of losing her gripped him tighter than ever.


    When he finally reached the door, he called out, "Amara..." but hesitated. The sight before him was not what he had expected. A wave of relief washed over him, mingling with an unexpected happiness that nearly brought him to his knees. He had never experienced anything like it before; it was a blend of joy and longing that felt overwhelming.


    "Hi," he managed to say, his voice trembling slightly.


    Amara looked up at him, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Hi," she replied, her tone warm yet cautious.

 20

    Amara sat quietly, holding Axel as he slept in her arms. She watched his peaceful face and felt a sense of beauty in this moment. Time seemed to stand still, and she couldn''t understand why hugging this little boy brought her such calmness.


    She found herself pondering the connection they shared. Why was she so captivated by him? The worries of her life faded away, replaced by a warmth and peace she hadn''t felt in years. In that simple act of holding him, she discovered a sense of comfort that felt both new and familiar.


    Max watched the scene before him, feeling a deep sense of calm and happiness that he had never experienced before. The sight of Amara holding Axel brought a warmth to his heart, a soothing balm for his soul.


    Meanwhile, Amara''s thoughts churned with confusion. *Is Max right? Are they really alive? Did I abandon them?* These questions echoed in her mind, each one more troubling than the last. She struggled to reconcile the joy she felt in this moment with these troubling question.


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    Amara looked at Max, holding Axel tightly, the weight of her questions heavy in the air. "Are you telling the truth?" she asked, searching his eyes for reassurance.


    Max stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. He sank to the floor, mirroring their position, and covered his face with both hands, as if shielding himself from the weight of the moment. "Yes," he replied, his voice muffled. "Yes," he repeated, this time with a hint of urgency.


    The room fell into a deep silence, a stillness that enveloped them. Amara broke the quiet, her voice soft but steady. "What''s her name?"


    Max uncovered his face, meeting her gaze directly. "Zara" he replied, his voice carrying a weight of emotion.


    Amara closed her eyes for a moment, turning her face down to Axel. "He cried,..... yelled, ..... And told me I''m useless, '' useless woman''" she said, her voice trembling slightly. "But still, his eyes were shining when he saw me."


    "He is a good boy," Max replied gently.


    "Yes," Amara agreed, her heart swelling with affection for Axel. "Why did you bring him?" she asked, curiosity threading through her words.


    "His fianc¨¦e is here. He wanted to come," Max explained.


    "I see," she said, absorbing the information.


    "Max," she began, turning to look at him. "Don''t expect anything from me," she added suddenly.


    "I won''t," Max assured her, his tone sincere.


    "When are we going?" Amara asked, a hint of urgency in her voice.


    Max smiled, a genuine warmth lighting up his face. "Tomorrow," he said, offering her a sense of hope.

 21

    The little boy sleeps in the bed. Amara watches him, her heart heavy. "My son," she whispers. "He is your son," Max repeats, stepping closer. "Don''t?" Amara says, a hint of uncertainty in her voice. Max pauses. "We need to leave after breakfast," he says.


    Morning has already come, and neither Max nor Amara has slept a moment. Amara gazes at her son, while Max''s eyes remain fixed on her.


    "Breakfast?" Amara asks, turning to him.


    "Yes, we''re the guests. We should eat," Max replies.


    "In the dining room?" Amara inquires.


    "You need to get dressed," Max says, and a maid appears, almost as if she were waiting for his instruction.


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    "Blue dress," Amara decides.


    "Like I promised," Max responds, as she leaves the room, her eyes lingering on the dress.


    "I know you''re awake, Axel," Max said, looking at the little boy. Axel opened his eyes slowly, guilt written on his face.


    "I''m sorry," he whispered.


    "Don''t," Max replied, moving closer and giving him a kiss. "Thank you," he added, smiling sincerely at Axel.


    "Why?" Axel asked, confusion in his eyes.


    Max smiled again but didn''t answer.


    "Dad, is she really her.. her ?" Axel asked, his voice barely above a whisper.


    "Yes, she is your mother," Max replied. Axel understood but didn''t react.


    "I don''t want her to come home, Dad. She doesn''t deserve this," he said.


    "Axel, she is your mother," Max insisted.


    "I don''t care! Let''s give her what she wants¡ªher freedom. That''s what she wants!" Axel''s voice began to rise.


    "Axel, this is¡ª" Max tried to calm him down but struggled to find the right words.


    "Dad, she left us! She could do it again. What about Zara? If Zara knows, I can''t¡ª" Axel''s voice trembled with emotion.


    "Axel, she won''t leave," Max said firmly.


    "She can," Axel shot back.


    "But she won''t," Max repeated.


    "She hates us!" Axel yelled.


    "She loves you and Zara," Max insisted.


    "I won''t believe you," Axel replied, frustration evident in his tone. Max looked at him, took a deep breath, and pulled him into a hug.


    "She loves you. Believe me one last time. Just believe me," Max said softly, then left the room.

 22

    "You look beautiful, your grace," May said, addressing her friend with a formality that felt strange to Amara.


    Amara glanced at the mirror, seeing her reflection and the shocked expressions of her friends behind her. They had once shared a job , but now they seemed uncertain, unsure of how to react to the situation surrounded them. They felt like minor players in a scene they couldn''t comprehend and chose to remain silent.


    Amara didn''t respond to May. she had become a noblewoman in a day again. The role of maid had vanished quickly, and even her friends struggled to recognize the aura she now exuded, as if she had always been a duchess.


    Amara would leave and forget everything here, just like she had run away from her family before. But deep down, she didn''t want this. ?t was hard.


    She looked at the mirror again. In the blue dress, with her hair elegantly styled, she knew she looked beautiful. This was the beginning of her old - new life.


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    Turning to May, she said softly, "Thank you."


    The door knocked and open at the same time, maids suprise but amara did not because she know her husband have this kind of behavior. The door opened they eyes look at each other. Amara get annoyed " knock the door" she said.


    Max looking at him " i already did " he said. The maid. Look at the amara because for them max really scary person and amara can talk to him like this. ?t was surprising even their master can''t.


    " ? said knock the door."she said. One more time.


    Max get out with silence and knock and wait. Max knew amara hate this kind of behavior but " i don''t like waiting " he said.


    Amara turn one maid and " let him in " she said.


    Max stepped inside and looked at Amara. "You look beautiful as always," he said with a charming smile.


    Amara turned to the maids. "You may leave," she instructed. The maids bowed and exited the room.


    As they left, the conversation began among them.


    "Mery looks and speaks just like a duchess. How didn''t we notice this?" one maid exclaimed.


    "Do you know why she left, May?" another asked.


    "I have no idea," May replied.


    "What about Meg?" the first maid inquired.


    "I didn''t know," May said, shaking her head.


    "But did you see her? She looks so elegant!" another chimed in.


    "Right? Unbelievable," one of the maids agreed.


    "By the way, the duke looks so handsome but scary," another noted.


    "I know, right?" May responded with a chuckle.


    "I wish we could talk to Mery one more time," one maid said wistfully.


    "Yes, I''m going to miss her," another added.


    "Me too," they all said.

 23

    "My wife, we should leave," Max said.


    Amara looked at him oddly. He seemed too calm and normal, which only annoyed her more.


    "Your grace, let me ask you something," she said as she walked toward him. "I don''t understand why you''re acting like we are husband and wife."


    Max replied simply, "We are."


    "Oh, you think so?" Amara shot back with a sarcastic smile. "Let me tell you, we are not going to be husband and wife."


    "We are not getting a divorce, Amara," Max insisted.


    "Not now, because I need to know the two lives I carried . But later, we will. Do you really think I will forgive you for all of this and embrace you like nothing happened? Don''t act stupid," she said, stopping just in front of him. Their faces were close, the only difference being their height.


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    "We are not getting a divorce, Amara," Max repeated firmly in whisper.


    "Now we need to eat," he added, his voice a whisper but resolute.


    ""Sure," Amara replied, and they began to walk. "Tell me about the house; I want to know."


    "It''s the same," he answered curtly.


    "You still live with your stepfamily? That''s wonderful," Amara said sarcastically.


    "I sent them away," he replied.


    "Why?" Amara asked, her curiosity piqued.


    Max glanced at her, thinking, *This woman is driving me crazy,* but he kept his thoughts to himself and turned away. Amara didn''t catch his frustration as they arrived at the dining room.


    The door opened to reveal the duke and lady seated, along with Axel. Amara looked at Axel, but he turned his head the moment he saw her face.


    "Mary, you look beautiful!" Daisy exclaimed.


    "Daisy, manners," Duke Rawen reprimanded gently, then turned to Max. "I''m sorry, your grace," he said.


    Max acknowledged the duke''s apology with a subtle nod as he and Amara took their seats, with Amara sitting next to Axel. He appeared visibly uncomfortable with the situation. Lord Rawen avoided looking at Amara, while Daisy couldn''t take her eyes off her.


    *What kind of situation is this? What am I going to say to them?* Lord Rawen pondered silently.


    "Mary, will you leave?" Daisy asked innocently.


    "Daisy, you can''t address her like that. You have to say ''your grace,''" Lord Rawen instructed, his tone firm.


    "But father?" Daisy protested, confused about the dynamics unfolding around her. She didn''t understand why her maid was sitting at the table with her fiance and his father.


    "It''s okay, Lord Rawen," Amara interjected, meeting the duke''s gaze. "I''m not going to pretend nothing happened, so please feel comfortable when we talk."

 24

    ''Feel what? Comfortable?'' Lord Rawen thought, sitting at the dining table, his mind racing. He was grappling with the revelation that his loyal maid, whom he secretly loved, was none other than Amara Orwa Falkenridge, the leader of Ravenshire in the South. She was also the Duchess of Falkenridge and the mother of little Lord Axel Rohan Falkenridge.


    Her husband, Duke Maxwell Aiden Falkenridge, was a formidable general commanding the two powerful armies known as Wolfsbane and Ravenshire. To add to the complexity, he was also the right man and cousin of the crown prince.


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    ''Feel comfortable? I could be killed at any moment,'' he pondered, unable to voice his turmoil. Instead, he maintained a polite smile and replied, "As you wish, Your Grace."


    Yet, a nagging worry lingered in his mind about what would become of her daughter and the future of little Lord Axel.


    Lord Rawen turned to Max. "Your Grace, we still haven''t discussed the important matter concerning our two families," he said. Max knew he was treading dangerous ground regarding his son''s future with this engagement. It felt as if he had no choice.


    "The engagement will continue; as you know, we have a deal," Max replied firmly.


    "I beg your pardon, but may I ask, what deal?" Amara interjected, fully aware of the implications of Max''s actions. She understood that his decisions were influenced by her, but she refused to let her son become entangled in this mess.

 25

    Two men looked at him in silence. "Maybe we should reconsider this," Amara said with a steady voice. Axel and Daisy exchanged surprised glances. Axel was surprised because his father''s word was always the final decision; he couldn''t even refuse him on basic matters.


    Max looked at her. "There were exceptions; we can change things easily. Maybe we should discuss this in the carriage," he suggested.


    Amara glanced up, noticing a maid who shook her head at her. When she looked closely for a second time, the maid was gone. She thought it was just her imagination and continued with her thoughts.


    "I''m not going to pretend nothing is going on. These two kids are engaged because of me; do not drag them into this mess.


    "Amara, this is neither the place nor the time," Max said firmly. "Your Grace, what we are doing is between the kingdoms," Lord Raven added.


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    Amara looked at Maxwell, but a dull ache began in her head, accompanied by a strange sense of familiarity. "This isn''t the right place. Perhaps the children can leave, and we can discuss this issue privately," she suggested, holding her head.


    Once more, she saw the maid shake her head before disappearing. Understanding dawned on her. '' Evren i will kill you ''


    "My lady, are you okay?" Lord Raven asked.


    "I am perfectly fine; I''m just a little sleepy, that''s all," Amara replied, aware of what was about to happen. "We can discuss this tomorrow. Maybe we should stay here one more day."


    "Amara, this is not the place nor the time. We are leaving today; that''s final. We can talk in the carriage or at home," Maxwell insisted, eager to return to his family and see his daughter''s reaction when Amara met Zara Alisa.


    But Amara was struggling; her vision blurred, and the room began to fade. She knew she was about to pass out, and she hated it. "Maxwell, I can understand wh¡ª" she began, but her eyes fluttered shut.


    "Mary!" Daisy yelled.


    Maxwell caught her just in time. *Thank God she fell this way; I can hold her,* he thought. Axel remained silent, confused by her sudden collapse, while his father''s tense gaze remained fixed on her.


    *You can just tell me,* Maxwell thought, *Ah, Amara, you''re really driving me to madness.*


    "Is she okay?" Daisy asked, concern etched on her face.


    Maxwell held Amara in his arms and replied, "Yes, she''s just tired." He glanced at Daisy. "Axel, take care of your fianc¨¦e," he instructed.


    "And Lord Raven, it seems we are staying one more day," he added as he left the dining room.

 26

    "This is ridiculous! We can''t kill her. She hasn''t done anything!" Amara yelled, glaring at the girl locked in a small cage like an animal. The girl looked like a beggar¡ªyoung but dirty, with black hair and brown eyes, her clothes tattered and covered in grime.


    "Amara, that''s enough," Maxwell said, focused on the paperwork before him.


    "But this is not right! I searched her around the village. She¡¯s only healing people with her medicine. We can''t kill her!" Amara pleaded, defending the girl, who appeared to be around 16 or 17 and had been forcefully dragged and beaten by soldiers.


    "Amara, she is dangerous. We have to kill her," Maxwell insisted.


    Nearby, other soldiers whispered among themselves. "Just because she¡¯s his fianc¨¦e, she thinks she can do whatever she wants. What a brat."


    "Yeah, I don¡¯t understand why the captain proposed to someone like her," another scoffed.


    Amara had been hearing such comments for a year now, and it was growing tiresome. "Sir, what I mean is¡ª" she started.


    Max stopped her with a raised hand and stood up. He turned to the three soldiers who were whispering. "All of you, get out," he commanded.


    They bowed and exited, but as they left, they cast lingering glances at Amara, continuing to gossip in hushed tones.


    "What are you doing, Amara?" Maxwell asked, his tone sharp. He looked angry.


    "Doing what?" she replied, frustration evident in her voice.


    "You¡¯re driving me nuts, Amara! What you¡¯re defending is the race that kills our people!" Max exclaimed.


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    "I''m not defending them; I''m defending this girl!" she shouted back.


    "She is not human!" Maxwell yelled, frustration mounting.


    "She is human!" Amara insisted, her voice rising in defiance.


    Max was filled with exasperation. For over an hour, she had been trying to convince him to let her go, and he was growing tired of the nonsense.


    ¡°Amara, enough! I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m trying to convince you about this. We need to finish this quickly and go back home; we¡¯re already late for the wedding preparations. This is ridiculous,¡± Maxwell said, frustration evident in his voice.


    ¡°We''re talking about the life of this girl right now! Don¡¯t be heartless,¡± Amara replied, her tone firm.


    ¡°Amara, she killed people! Blood is on her hands, just like anyone else we¡¯ve dealt with. We¡¯re going to kill her. It¡¯s that simple,¡± Maxwell insisted.


    ¡°No, Maxwell Aiden, I told you to look into this girl¡¯s case! She didn¡¯t kill anyone; she didn¡¯t even know anything about her race until we arrived. It¡¯s not simple to just kill one human,¡± Amara argued.


    ¡°She is not human, Amara!¡± Maxwell yelled, his patience wearing thin.


    ¡°And I¡¯m telling you she is¡ª¡± Amara began, but Maxwell cut her off.


    ¡°Amara orwa Waverly, this is an order: you will kill this woman tomorrow, and that¡¯s final.¡±


    Amara looked into his eyes, fury burning within her. ¡°Yes, sir,¡± she replied.


    Amara stormed out of the tent, her anger boiling over as she walked quickly toward her own. But as she approached, she hesitated. ¡°I can¡¯t go in; I need to calm down,¡± she muttered to herself. Instead, she turned and headed to her friend¡¯s tent.


    She pushed through the flaps and found Mary resting inside. ¡°Mary, he refuses!¡± Amara blurted out.


    ¡°Who? What?¡± Mary replied, startled.


    ¡°He refuses! I can¡¯t believe him! I showed him everything¡ªevery resource. Just because she¡¯s from that race. He is so annoying!¡± Amara exclaimed, pacing.


    ¡°Amara, calm down a little,¡± Mary urged.


    ¡°Mary, she is innocent!¡± Amara insisted.


    ¡°How can you be so sure about this?¡± Mary asked, raising an eyebrow.


    ¡°Look at this paper! I¡¯m going to read this to you,¡± Amara said, her voice rising with urgency.


    ¡°Her name is Evren, given to her by the workers at the orphanage where she grew up. They don¡¯t even know who she really is! She grew up in the village, and the villagers loved her. She helped them like a doctor. I even spoke to the families she helped; all of them said they begged me to forgive her. We can¡¯t kill her just because of her ancestry,¡± Amara pleaded passionately, desperation lacing her words.


    ¡°But Amara, we can¡¯t do anything about this,¡± Mary said, worry etched on her face.


    ¡°Maybe we can,¡± Amara replied, determination creeping into her voice.


    ¡°Amara, you¡¯ll get in trouble! Don¡¯t even think about it,¡± Mary warned.


    ¡°But Mary, what if it was you?¡± Amara countered, her eyes pleading.


    ¡°Amara, please, the timing isn¡¯t right. You have a wedding ceremony to prepare for. I don¡¯t even know why we¡¯re here,¡± Mary said.


    ¡°I don¡¯t even know why we¡¯re doing this ceremony! We¡¯re already married,¡± Amara replied, frustration bubbling over.


    ¡°For the people you love?¡± Mary asked gently.


    ¡°What people? My mother and brother hate me. They¡¯re happy because I¡¯m marrying the future grand duke. My father doesn¡¯t want me to marry him; he says I won¡¯t be peaceful with him. My friends hate me, except for you. They all seem to be in love with him. His family hates me, and the guests! All the women have a crush on him and detest me to death, even duchess Dewhurst  ¡± Amara said. " Isn''t she like 50 " Mary said. " She is 55 " Amara said.

 27

    "It''s getting late," Mary said, glancing at the entrance of the tent.


    "Yes, so can I stay here?" Amara asked, giving Mary her best puppy eyes.


    "Haha, sure! But do you think the captain will allow this? Don''t you remember the Rose Hotel?" Mary laughed.


    Amara shot her a look. "I don''t think it''s funny."


    "Yes, it was hilarious! You punched him because he came to your room," Mary continued to tease.


    "I had my reasons, you know that," Amara replied defensively.


    "Sure, your husband came to your room, and you punched him," Mary mocked playfully.


    "How was I supposed to know he would come to my room? I thought we were all going to have separate rooms¡ªlike you and Lara, Ethan and Mark, and me and Maxwell," Amara explained.


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    "Amara, you never told me what happened. We only saw the captain with a black eye, and he yelled that his wife hit him. It was funny, but really, what happened?" Mary pressed.


    "You know why we were there; the crown prince wanted us to find one person. Well, I was sleepy and went to my room. I left the door open, and he came in, and I punched him," Amara confessed.


    "I know that, but what was his reaction? Why did you try to come to my room? What did you tell him that made him yell at us all day?" Mary asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.


    "If I told you, you wouldn''t laugh," Amara warned.


    "True friends always laugh, but I''ll try to hold it," Mary promised.


    "Fine! Well, I told him, ''Why are you here?'' He yelled, ''This is my room!'' I apologized and tried to leave," Amara recounted.


    Mary couldn''t control her laughter. "Stop it! Let me finish at least!"


    "I''m sorry, keep going," Mary said, still chuckling.


    Amara smiled, encouraged by Mary''s laughter. "Well, he stopped me and asked where I was going. I said, ''I''m going to my room.''"


    "Haha, this is hilarious! Keep going!" Mary urged.


    Even Amara started laughing a little because of Mary''s infectious joy. "Well, he said, ''This is your room!'' I replied, ''Why are we sleeping in the same bed?'' And he yelled, ''Because we are married!'' It''s still ringing in my ears. I asked, ''And?''"


    "Did you really say that? You''re kidding, right?" Mary exclaimed.


    "What? My parents don''t even sleep in the same mansion; how would I know?" Amara replied.


    "Okay, okay, and what happened next?" Mary asked, still giggling.


    "And we slept in the same room. It''s over, okay?" Amara said, trying to shut her friend up.


    "I''m sorry! Please tell me what happened next!" Mary pleaded.


    "No, I won''t; you''ll make fun of me," Amara protested.


    "I don''t have a reason to make fun of you! I''m already doing this for no reason; at least you''re giving me one!" Mary joked, her laughter echoing in the tent.

 28

    Amara and Mary lay side by side on the bed inside the tent, enveloped in a comfortable silence. They were tired from laughing, especially Mary.


    "I should leave; it''s getting darker, I need to talk to him. " Amara said.


    "It seemed like it got dark early tonight," Mary replied. They stepped out of the tent to observe the weather.


    "Winter is getting closer," Amara remarked. The two women fell into silence. Despite their brief moments of joy, the future felt unpredictable.


    "He might love you," Mary said suddenly, her tone shifting as she recognized the underlying tension in Amara.


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    Amara tried to brush it off, acting as if the comment didn''t affect her. "Rumors are just that-rumors," she replied but Mary could see the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.


    "Come on, Amara. I can tell it''s bothering you," Mary pressed gently. "You don''t have to pretend."


    Amara sighed, her facade slipping. "It''s just... it''s complicated.


    Amara looked at her, a flicker of hope mixed with apprehension in her eyes. "I don''t want to dream. I know my reality,"


    "Look at the people. Everyone is jealous of you right now. You''re the one married to him. Soon, everyone will want to be friends with you, I''m sure of it. Even if it''s fake, they will respect you. You''re the soldier who gained the crown prince''s knowledge without the captain''s help," Mary encouraged.


    Amara glanced at the crowd, a painful smile crossing her face. "Do you see them, Mary? They''re looking at me, but they won''t talk to me."


    "They might be afraid," Mary suggested.


    "No one speaks to me or wants to befriend me, yet they watch my every move while ignoring my gaze. Their eyes disturb me,.... I should leave." Amara said and left , turning back toward her tent .


    The weather shifted. "Snow? It''s early," she murmured.

 29

    Amara was heading to her tent when she saw someone familiar. "Ethan?" she called out.


    Ethan noticed her, and although Amara smiled at him, he didn''t smile back. Instead, he looked as if he had been caught off guard. She sensed his discomfort yet continued to wave at him. With every step she took, Ethan grew more anxious.


    When she finally reached him, Amara asked, "Is something wrong?"


    Just then, she overheard Maxwell''s voice coming from inside their tent.


    "Amara," Ethan said cautiously.


    "Shush " Amara replied, putting a finger to her lips.


    "You''re going to marry that wench!" Sianna''s voice erupted from within. "My love, my darling, how could you betray me like this?"


    "Sianna, leave this place," Maxwell said firmly.


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    "No, I can''t! I know I made a mistake, and I accept that, but please, don''t ruin your life by marrying her. She''s nothing, not even pretty! You''re doing this to punish me. Everyone knows you love me and only proposed to her to get back at me." Sianna clung to him, but Maxwell didn''t embrace her, nor did he push her away.


    "Sianna, that''s enough. You need to leave," he said, his expression unreadable.


    "Am I ugly to you now? Is that why you hate me?" Sianna asked, searching his eyes.


    Maxwell remained silent but touched her gently. "You are beautiful. I''m not doing this..."


    Amara felt tears welling up as she overheard those words. Overcome, she turned to leave, unnoticed.


    "Amara, wait," Ethan called softly.


    She paused and forced a smile. "I''m sorry," he said, his voice filled with regret.


    "Why?" she asked.


    "I should have told you she was here. I didn''t know..."


    Amara interrupted him. "I know he doesn''t love me, and I know he won''t."


    "Amara, this is a cycle with no end. You will break and break..." Ethan said, concern etched on his face.


    "Then I will shut my eyes and ears to be unnoticed. I don''t have much choice," she replied, her voice steady.


    Ethan tried to read her expression. He couldn''t tell if she was crying; her voice was neat and clear, but her face was wet¡ªperhaps from the snow.


    "Amara, why do you want this marriage?" he asked, his tone heavy with emotion. She was his childhood friend, and he had warned her many times about marrying Maxwell, but now all he could do was listen in silence.


    "I don''t know," Amara thought but didn''t voice it.


    "Ethan, do you have the key?" she suddenly asked.


    "What key?" he replied, confused.


    "The key to the cage," Amara clarified.


    "Yes, but Amara, I can''t give it to you."


    "Max told me to kill her tomorrow. It won''t make a difference if I do it now, will it?" Amara said.


    Ethan hesitated. He didn''t want to give her the key, but right now, he felt guilt.


    "Here," he said reluctantly, handing her the key.


    "Thank you," Amara replied.

 30

    "It''s time. I thought tomorrow would be the end?" the girl in the cage said, her voice a whisper as Amara struggled to unlock it.


    Amara knew she was doing something wrong, but she had to act. This was her way of shutting off the chaos inside her. "Do you think it will change anything?" she asked, glancing at the girl.


    "Not really," the girl replied, her eyes empty. She seemed resigned, ready to accept her fate. "It''s a good day to die, I guess."


    Once free, Amara led the girl into the woods, where the snow began to fall faster, swirling around them. "It''s good to die," the girl murmured, gazing up at the sky.


    They paused in a clearing. The girl turned to Amara, a faint smile touching her lips. "Thank you for defending me. I''m happy you''re the one who will kill me," she said, devoid of tears or anger.


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    "Turn," Amara said softly. The girl obeyed, her calmness unsettling.


    "Do you have anything to say?" Amara asked, her heart pounding.


    "Which season do you like?" the girl replied, her tone almost curious.


    Amara hesitated, watching the snowflakes dance around them. "Winter," she finally answered.


    "Interesting. Why?" the girl pressed.


    "Because it drapes the world in a soft, silencing snow," Amara said, lost in thought.


    The girl smiled, her eyes sparkling for a moment. "Yes. It feels as if death wanders among us, observing quietly. It gazes upon our lives, selecting its victims before retreating into the shadows. I love winter too," she said.


    Amara dropped the sword and sat down beside her. "Why aren''t you running?" she asked, feeling the weight of the moment.


    The girl turned to her, confusion flickering in her gaze. "Why do you want me to run away?"


    "Just run," Amara urged, desperation creeping into her voice.


    "But where? Even if I run, I will die in this forest," the girl replied, her acceptance of fate striking a chord in Amara''s heart.


    She was right. Amara stood up, shedding her jacket and draping it over the girl''s shoulders. "There is no escape. You should kill me," the girl said, a calm resignation in her words.


    "No, I didn''t bring you here to kill you " Amara said.

 31

    "Wear this?" Amara asked, holding out her jacket.


    "Are you crazy?" the girl replied, a pained laugh escaping her lips.


    "Yes, I am," Amara said with a hint of defiance. The girl hesitated but eventually slipped it on, confused by Amara''s behavior. She had expected her to act with purpose, to fulfill the grim task ahead, but instead, Amara was acting oddly.


    "We need to walk," Amara said, breaking the tension.


    "Where?" the girl asked, her brow furrowed.


    Amara didn''t answer directly; she simply urged her forward toward Mary''s tent.


    When they arrived, Mary''s eyes widened in shock as they entered. "Amara! What?"


    "I need some help," Amara said, urgency lacing her voice.


    "Are you crazy?" Mary yelled, taking a step back.


    "Shush," Amara replied, her tone firm. She guided the girl to sit on the bed, while Mary pulled her aside, concern etched across her face.


    "You know that you''re not just disobeying the rules; this is treason in the eyes of the crown prince," Mary whispered urgently.


    Amara met her gaze, unwavering. "I don''t care."


    Just then, Ethan entered the tent abruptly, his eyes landing on the scene before him. "Okay¡­ We need to hide her," he said, his tone surprisingly nonchalant, as if this were a normal occurrence.


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    "Am I the only sane one here?" Mary exclaimed, exasperation evident in her voice.


    "What''s the plan?" Ethan asked, his eyes narrowing at Amara.


    "I didn''t really think that far ahead," Amara admitted, her voice trailing off.


    "You don''t even have a plan? Unbelievable," Mary shot back, frustration rising.


    "Calm down," Ethan interjected, trying to steady the tension. "I can take the teleport crystal?" Amara suggested, her mind racing.


    "And? From the Maxwells? How?" Mary questioned, skepticism lacing her words.


    "I know where he keeps it," Amara replied, determination creeping in.


    Ethan stepped closer to Amara, urgency in his voice. "Be quick. I''ll hide her in here," he said, indicating the tent. Amara nodded and dashed out, her heart pounding as she ran toward her own tent.


    She wasn''t thinking clearly; . Once inside her tent, she felt a rush of adrenaline.


    "Where were you?" a voice came from behind her. Amara whipped around to see Maxwell standing there, his tone calm yet tinged with anger.


    "I was with Mary," Amara responded quickly, trying to maintain her composure.


    Maxwell studied her, then sat on his bed. "Where were you running?" he asked, his voice steady and emotionless.


    "Yes," Amara said, knowing lying was futile as her breaths came quick and uneven.


    "Why?" Maxwell pressed, his gaze unwavering.


    "I... I was running because of the snow. I didn''t .... want to ... get wet," she stammered, her fear evident.


    "Where is she?" Maxwell asked flatly.


    "Who?" Amara replied, feigning ignorance.


    "Who do you think? Do you have someone in mind?" Maxwell''s tone was mocking, but his eyes remained piercing.


    "I... killed her," Amara finally confessed, her heart racing.


    "Where is the body?" Maxwell''s question was cold, and Amara could feel her pulse quickening.


    "I buried her," she said, trying to sound convincing.


    "You look clean, though. No mud, and you''re quick for one person," he observed, skepticism in his voice.


    "There are people who helped me," Amara said, desperation creeping in.


    Maxwell smiled slightly. "Can you give me their names?"


    "Mary... and Ethan," Amara replied, meeting his gaze.


    His eyes softened a fraction. "Ethan? I see. So why are you running so fast, Amara?"


    "Mary''s clothes... She didn''t have spares, ....so I told her she could use mine. I''ll bring ....," Amara explained, hoping to placate him.


    "You don''t have to run for this," Maxwell said, his voice calm.


    "It''s snowing," Amara insisted.


    "Fine. We need to sleep. Be quick to come to the tent. And sorry for yelling at you," he said, a hint of weariness in his tone.


    Amara looked at him, shaking her head slightly. "Amara, be quick. I''m really sleepy. Give her the clothes and come to bed quickly," Maxwell urged.


    She said " yes" then closed her eyes.


    When she opened her eyes, she found herself in the big bed, enveloped in darkness within the lavish room. '' Another dream''


    "Evren, stop doing this every time you visit me," Amara said, her voice laced with both irritation and familiarity.


    "Well, everyone has a style," Evren replied, standing in front of the window, illuminated by moonlight.