Despite all the harshness and discipline that shaped my youth—despite the constant pressure, the battles, the expectations—I held onto one secret longing for many years. I wanted to meet my fated mate. My parents weren’t fated. My father chose my mother for practical reasons—strong lineage, useful alliances. For her, the marriage was a great honor, a rise in status. No one complained. No one asked for more. Eventually, they grew to care for each other in their own way, but passion had never been a part of it. My mother always stood by my father. Even when his discipline was cold and unrelenting, she never softened it. She never shielded me from his harsh grip. So even the one person who should have offered comfort never gave it. Love, in my world, was a distant myth. And yet, after his death… I breathed. I loved my father, I respected him, but his presence had been like a collar around my throat. What surprised me most? Even after he was gone, I didn’t stop the grueling training
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2025-06-27
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