《The Luna's Groom》全部章節：第 51 章 - 第 60 章

E L E A N O R The thought of his words keeps me awake for the rest of the night. Even when the first light seeps softly through the window, sleep refuses to come back. I quietly slip out of bed, carefully disentangling our bodies so I don’t wake him. I stand and move slowly, tying my hair into a loose bun as I step away from the bedroom and gently shut the door behind me. The main room is small but warm. A low shelf holds a stack of books, and a brown rug, soft, worn covers the wooden floor. Several paintings hang on the walls. One shows a little boy who looks just like Perseus, but younger, much younger. A knitted cardigan lies draped over the sofa, next to a ball of yarn and knitting needles. I’m tempted to pick it up and finish the work, but I don’t know whose it is, and that holds me back. There are many paintings. One shows the boy sitting on the edge of a mountain, laughing freely, an orange butterfly resting delicately on his nose. The painter’s style is incredibly realistic,

E L E A N O R I'm in the middle of a white room. It's bright, cold and unsettlingly uncomfortable. My legs tremble slightly when I sight someone few steps away. She's wearing a pink dress, laying on the floor with her back facing me. “Hello?” I call. No response. I rush towards her, gathering my dress in my arms. I kneel next to her and tap her shoulder, she's cold. I turn her, a gasp escaping my lips as her partly opened eyes meet mine. “Marina?” “Eleanor.” Her voice is low and raspy. “Oh God, Marina.” I cry, tears pricking through my eyes. “I'm sorry, Eleanor. I really am. I'd never forgive myself for what I did to you, I deserve this.” She says in a voice barely above a whisper. “It's okay, it's just about Margaret and Dolores you did what you had to do.” “No... there's more.” She coughs. “There's more that I kept from you.” A tear trails down her eyes. “And what is that, Marina? Hmm,what did you keep —” “Tobias. I know what he did, don't do it Eleanor. You'll regret it.”

E L E A N O R. One week. I step out onto the balcony as the maids bustle behind me, helping to pick a dress for the day—yet another tedious ritual in this hair-pulling routine. For the past seven days, this has been my life: waking up to get dressed, lounging in heavy silence, reading books to pass the hours, taking long, sleep-ridden naps, eating when I remember to, and walking in quiet circles within the castle walls like a ghost haunting her own tomb. I tried, genuinely tried, to distract myself by watching the guards train. I noted their sword techniques, counted their steps, even memorized the way they held their blades. I planned to practice those techniques myself, if only I could catch a moment without the guards trailing behind me like my own shadow. They don’t speak—not to me, at least. I’ve started to believe they’re mute or sworn to some sacred silence. Every night, I fall asleep just minutes before Perseus returns. He slips into the bathroom, takes his bath, then craw

E L E A N O R Then, handing me a cup of water, she adds gently, “Here, drink this.” I take it from her without a word, but my hands tremble slightly, and I can’t bring myself to lift the cup to my lips. “Darcy Hamilton’s in prison,” she says, sitting down beside me. “The Alpha had her arrested two days ago. That’s what sparked the protests.” The news hits harder than I expect. I hadn't heard a word about the arrest. The castle has been oddly peaceful—too peaceful. Quiet in the most eerie way. Darcy didn’t lie. I’ve been nothing but a traitor. A worthless ornament dressed in royal silks, kept around only for the sake of appearances—while Perseus hands the real responsibilities to Roseline. Ravon was right. I need to wake up. My father’s going to attack soon. And if I stay idle, it’ll only prove their assumptions right—that I’m just the daughter of a traitor. That Clawford has fallen into incapable hands. That the safety of the werewolf race is dangling in the wind, left at the mer

P E R S E U S “We should go back to our room,” she suggests softly. “I don’t want to stay here and take a bath.” “As you wish,” I reply with a smirk, taking off my shirt and helping her into it. Then I carefully lift her into my arms. She squeals softly and buries her face in my chest, clutching me tightly. “You don't have to be so chivalrous all the time,” she jokes. “Only for you,” I answer simply. “Always and forever.” I step outside the door into the hallway, closing it behind us. “Just for you,” I repeat. “I’ll always be chivalrous for you, no matter what.” .... Later, I wait until she’s fallen asleep before changing out of my night clothes into something more casual. I plan to slip out tonight, return before she wakes at midnight—I've got her sleep routine down to an art now. I walk through Sunclaw, the closest faction to the palace. The heart of Bloodthorn, which has been burning since the attack at Gray Minefields. I’ve interrogated all the werewolf leaders