Marisol was left dumbfounded. Inwardly, she cursed Kyro at how troublesome and infuriating he was, just like Lucian. In fact, he was far more insufferable than Lucian. Drawing a breath to steady herself, she obediently scooped a small bite of cake onto the spoon and, swallowing her discomfort, held it out to him. Kyro lowered his head and accepted the bite. The kitchen fell into an oppressive silence. Marisol's nerves were stretched thin. She feared the taste might be off, and that it would ignite his anger. If that happened, she knew it could cost her dearly. After a long pause, Kyro reached for the plate, seemingly wanting to eat himself. Relief flickered in her chest. Perhaps the taste was passable after all. But then, just as the plate reached his hands, he let go. The plate crashed to the floor and shattered into pieces, splattering the sweet, fragrant cake everywhere. Marisol's heart sank. Then came his voice, calm and indifferent. "Wrong. She would never fe
After taking what she needed, Marisol carefully restored the vegetable rack, rearranging the top layer to mask the missing produce. Then, she propped up the frozen meats to conceal the gap. Ensuring everything was in place, she gathered the stolen food into the folds of her dress and slipped out of the kitchen with the wolf. She shut the door behind her and bolted upstairs. After returning to her room safely, Marisol stuffed the portion of her food into a cabinet and brought the frozen meat into the bathroom to thaw and rinse. It took considerable effort, but eventually, she locked the wolf inside the bathroom to feast. Only after that did she tuck away her portion of food in several well-concealed spots in her room. It should last her a few days. Her strength had begun to come back, but she dared not risk roaming outside anymore. One night like this had left her drained. Once the wolf finished its meal and sprawled contentedly for a nap, Marisol cleaned the bathroom up metic
From what Marisol understood of the great royal families of the West, only the most important direct descendants of the family were honored with portraits lining the hallway. They would either be those who had led the lineage or made significant contributions to the family. Those family members were worthy of being immortalized in paintings and displayed in the castle for future generations to revere. It was much like the family chapel back in Cerulea. Yet here, in such a sacred place, hung a portrait of a figure from the East, which was clearly not of the bloodline. This inclusion suggested the figure's immense importance. But if this person was truly so revered, why was the face left blank? They were important yet unacknowledged. The contradiction unsettled her. Shaking her head, Marisol moved on. Time was short, and the wolf was already tugging insistently at her hem, urging her downstairs for food. She had no choice but to follow. Halfway down the stairs, she watched as t
The banquet in the forest had ended. By the time Marisol was brought back to the castle, night had already fallen, and she was utterly spent. The tight, ill-fitting dress weighed heavily on her, making every step a torment. But what gnawed at her even more was the fact that she had only managed to eat a small pastry at the banquet. She hadn't been allowed even a second bite. Listless, Marisol let the housekeepers undress her. The crimson gown slipped off her like a set of chains being shed. After changing into a lightweight silk nightgown, she collapsed onto the couch. Though she held little hope, she still mustered the energy to ask weakly, "Is there any dinner?" The housekeeper ignored her. After silently redressing the wound on Marisol's left hand, she left without a word. Fine. It seemed she'd be going hungry again tonight. Marisol couldn't understand Kyro's mercurial temper. He punished her when she spoke too much, and withheld food when she stayed silent and tried t
Sometimes, during her episodes, Elizabeth couldn't even recognize the people around her. But if that beauty from the East Kyro spoke of, 20 years ago, had truly been Elizabeth, and judging by the way he said "play"... A terrifying suspicion took root in Marisol's mind. She wondered if Elizabeth had developed mental illness solely from postpartum depression. The thought of that woman's gentle smile and warm embrace—someone who had shown her more love than her mother ever did, and who she had come to regard as family—sent icy tendrils of dread creeping up Marisol's spine until her entire body trembled. Then, something she'd never paid attention to before surfaced in her memory. While elite families like the Mullers should've been frequently vacationing abroad, she realized she'd never actually seen any of them travel overseas, except for Lucian. Even their leisure trips were always domestic. It was strange, given the Muller family's extensive international assets. Once the
There were many people at the scene.When they got out of the car, melodious music drifted through the air, mixed with the sound of insects and birds chirping from the woods. She also heard people's cheerful laughter.She could hear voices all around, and people were speaking in various languages. She picked out Istranese, Eralish, and Friancuan among them, along with many others she couldn't identify. However, she could roughly make out that a forest party was being held here. The man lightly gripped her wrist and walked into the crowd. She heard the scene fall silent for a moment before erupting with mostly surprised exclamations. She could tell that his status was very valuable here. But strangely, after the initial surprise, no one approached them. Some even backed away, seemingly in fear.What was that about?Marisol was puzzled but obediently followed behind him into the wooden house. She heard several men's hearty laughter from inside, along with card-playing and table-sla