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PART ONE: CHAPTER SEVEN

Her long gown that wore bloodstains as spots layered on the ground, Zaramanni had no idea what to feel for the first few minutes.

But, when she noticed the inquisitive look on the King’s face, she managed to get up so that she could do something about her life and perhaps, about her injury.

Taking a quick look at her earlier molested hand led her brows to lift with perplexity. The uncomfortable bleeding had ceased.

All that was left was a scar that showed that a knife had indeed pierced through her skin.

More confused, Zara slightly tilted her head to catch a glimpse of the King’s injury.

But, the tall, angry-looking man had his hands drawn into a ball of fists, his gaze drilling flames into her body.

Wondering what was wrong with the man, Zaramanni's lips wore a little sneer but her mind was soon distracted as her eyes went on to observe the chaos she had created.

Then, her mind finally asked the question it should have asked earlier.

Did she really destroy the sacred place?
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