Chapter 3

That year, I was only fourteen. I had gone with my mother to pray at a temple when we encountered bandits. All our guards were killed, and our carriage horses were spooked, galloping wildly towards a cliff. At the critical moment, it was Marcus who saved me.

He was dressed in white, a graceful and spirited young man.

With just one glance, my heart could no longer accommodate anyone else.

I had never run so anxiously in the palace before. The king had loved the late queen so much that he had Aria's Tower built very close.

I ran through the winding corridors, dragging my long skirt, as if I had been running for a long time, out of breath.

My skirt tripped me, but I didn't care. I got up and hurried to the king's side.

Our country was called Aldoria, and the king's name was Alaric.

When I burst in, a man in blood-stained prisoner's clothes was kneeling at the bottom of Aria's Palace. Alaric sat lazily in the main seat. My appearance was very abrupt to them, and they all turned to look at me.

My gaze swept over the man's face, and I was momentarily stunned. It wasn't until Alaric chuckled softly that I broke out in a cold sweat, hurriedly averting my gaze and running to Alaric's side.

Alaric gently stroked my head, "Aria thinks he looks similar too, doesn't she?"

I lowered my brows, "I was startled by the blood just now and didn't see his face clearly."

Alaric laughed softly, twirling a lock of my hair around his finger. "If you didn't see clearly, then go take a look."

I couldn't fathom his intentions. I didn't know why he wanted me to look, and perhaps in Marcus's memory, there wasn't even a person like me.

Up close, his wounds were even more apparent. There were no less than ten injuries, large and small, with flesh turned outward, oozing blood. His white linen prisoner's clothes were stained black and red, the original color indiscernible.

I had heard that after the leader of Westbrook was captured, he still didn't reveal his accomplices even after severe torture. I never imagined this leader would be Marcus.

Marcus looked at me coldly, no longer the gentle and refined person he once was, only ice-cold.

I couldn't help but take a few steps back. At some point, Alaric had stood behind me, and I bumped into his chest.

"Did he scare you?"

Before I could speak, Alaric kicked Marcus hard in the chest. The kick was so forceful that Marcus coughed up a mouthful of fresh blood.

"In my presence, you should retract your claws."

Marcus laughed coldly and spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva. "A foolish and cruel person, how dare you call yourself 'we'?"

The bloody saliva just happened to land on Alaric's shoe. Alaric's expression remained calm, but my heart began to race.

"Aria."

When he called my name, my body trembled slightly.