The echo of Marcus’s door slamming still seemed to rattle through the halls, but elsewhere, footsteps clicked against polished stone. Penelope strode between Colin and Howard, her arms crossed tight against her chest, her lips twisted in a pout that was more theatrical than angry.“I still can’t believe it,” she huffed, her voice pitched loud enough to bounce off the walls. “Marcus. Marcus of all people—royal bloodline, second heir to Eldridge—and his fated mate is… her.” She threw her hands dramatically into the air. “A maid! A maid, Colin! Doesn’t this feel like we’re living in some sort of ridiculous telenovela?”Howard snorted, dragging a hand down his face. “More like a bad comedy.”Colin, however, didn’t laugh. His brow was furrowed, his sharp eyes distant as if weighing something heavier beneath Penelope’s flippant words. Still, he muttered, “Fated mate isn’t something you choose. You know that.”“Yes, yes, I know that,” Penelope replied, rolling her eyes, her voice dropping in
Last Updated : 2025-09-28 Read more