Mag-log inA spoiler: Arielle knows everything and anytime. YOU cannot hide anything from her. She will always know
Third Person POV“Listen, O people—listen!”The drum went thud-thud-thud, loud enough to wake the dead and annoy the living.“A new shop is opening on the fourteenth!”“A brand-new market!”“All in one market!” The drummer stood proudly in front of a poor, defenceless book stall, beating his drum like he was announcing the end of the world instead of discounted flour. The bookseller’s eye twitched. His peace was gone, his customers were gone, and his patience had already packed its bags.But he said nothing.Why would he? The man had been paid the price of a hundred books to let the drummer stand there and make noise. A hundred books! In this economy, silence was expensive, and dignity was negotiable.On top of that, the bookseller had been offered a stall in the new market itself. No rent. No fees. Just bring your books and count the cash.He had thought, If this is a scam, so be it.At least I’m not throwing coins into a bottomless well.He would supply a thousand books. His artist
LucianHe gripped my hand tightly, his gaze locked on the sign, the gold lettering catching the sunlight. His silence was profound. Below the name, the logo was being finalized, which was a cute image of a wolf with striking red eyes. It was a rather chubby wolf, more like a cute, oversized panda with an intense gaze, yet despite the burning red eyes, the overall effect ignited a feeling of endearment, not fear. It was unique and charming. The purpose was to mix Lucian and me in this logo. “It’s beautiful…” he whispered, his eyes moist with emotion. “But Layla… why my parents? Why not yours?”I shrugged lightly, a practiced nonchalance covering the deeper wound. “I genuinely don’t know who they are, Lucian.”“I’m sorry, Layla,” he murmured, his thumb stroking the back of my hand, his grip never loosening.“Well, it sucks,” I admitted honestly, “but if they gave me up… I mean, it’s probably for the best. Better than being abused or neglected as an unwanted child. They did well, in a w
Two Months Since the Moon Flower Festival Layla I meticulously studied my reflection in the full-length mirror. It was remarkable how much had changed in just two months. Gone was the sickly, stressed look I had carried for years. My transformation was the result of an almost militant training toward well-being, orchestrated by Lucian. I had been subjected to a carefully crafted, healthy diet that was no longer extreme or restrictive, but balanced and clean. My days were structured to avoid excessive sun exposure, and I had finally learned the magic of good quality, minimal makeup. And, of course, there was the 'lots of sex' part, which had certainly contributed to the healthy glow and general happiness.My skin color had undergone a subtle but significant change. It was no longer the patchy, dull brown I had always hated. While Rosie had optimistically declared I was no longer "tanned," the color still fell on the deeper side of the spectrum, definitely golden-tanned, not pale. No
LucianThe music that had filled the courtyard minutes ago had been violently silenced and replaced by the panicked shouts of the guests who came from far and near to witness the blooming of the moon flowers. My heart was a frantic drumbeat against my ribs as I desperately searched for Layla. The simple harvest festival, meant to be a quiet and joyous day of celebration before the winter set in, had descended into utter chaos. I realised, with a chilling certainty, why the King and Queen had been suddenly absent from their chairs. They had been discreetly forewarned of a potential threat, and their sworn knightguard had followed protocol, whisking them into the sanctuary of the inner palace for safety.A voice cut through the clamour as I heard. "We caught the group of assassins."It was General Campbell with his face grim was now reporting to Prince Maxwell, who was already fully clad in his silver-and-blue royal armour."Keep them in the cage. I shall interrogate them later," Maxwe
Layla“Where were you?” I asked Sora, my voice low. The grand hall of the banquet felt suddenly too loud and too crowded. The main programme of singing and dancing was about to begin, but the king and Queen were not there. Sora turned to me with her smile wide and conspiratorial. My husband, Lucian, was a few feet away, deep in conversation with another knight, their faces etched with a seriousness that contrasted sharply with the surrounding celebration.“I went to bring you news,” she said, her voice barely a breath against my ear.“News?” I repeated, my curiosity instantly piqued.She smiled cleverly, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Everyone is taking a walk, Princess. Shall we take one as well?"Rosie shifted uncomfortably beside me. “It's advisable not to leave the banquet, Princess. The King and Queen may return at any moment.”"The Queen and King are not here. They will come again in sometime. We shall come by then,” Sora countered, dismissively waving a hand. Before I could
Layla My anger surged fully then. My eyes burned, and I knew I was shaking, though I refused to show it openly. Lucian sensed it immediately. His hand came up, so warm and gentle, as he began rubbing slow circles against my back.“Don’t be angry,” he murmured near my ear. “I am here.”His voice grounded me, but the hurt remained sharp. My husband could have died. No apology could erase that truth. No explanation could soften it.I would not forgive them.But my heart warmed as Lucian calmed me down. Princess Elena’s lips thinned. “Cam is a bastard,” she snapped. “What right did he have to heal anyone? He was not even properly taught. He broke family rules. He should be grateful he is still alive.”Her words were cold and unforgivable.I smiled at her choice of words. “Does your family allow women to treat the injured?” I asked.The question caught her off guard. She had no clue about where I was going with this conversation. She hesitated before answering. “Only unmarried women,” s







