He has been waiting for me? What does he mean by that?My brows furrowed as I stared at the man. His eyes were filled with longing as he stared down at me. And before I could say anything, he had pulled me into his arms. My face hit his chiseled chest and I gasped. I was dumbfounded. I couldn’t speak. Does this stranger know me? After five weeks, did finally someone from my life before the tragedy came to find me?The dimly lit café seemed to hold its breath as our eyes locked in a moment of uncertainty. His arms still encircled me, the warmth of his touch contrasting with the confusion etched on his face. My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of fear and anticipation intertwining within me."You don't know how long I have been searching for you, Elisa," he whispered, his voice filled with a longing that resonated deep within me. The mention of my name sent a shiver down my spine, a flicker of recognition stirring in the depths of my memoryBut his words only deepened the mystery. Did I

Husband. The word reverberated through my mind, foreign and unfamiliar. It seemed to hang in the air between us, heavy with implications and emotions I couldn't quite grasp. I stared at the man before me, his features etched with a mixture of hope and uncertainty, and struggled to reconcile the word with the fragments of memory that danced just beyond my reach.As Lucian's words settled in, I found myself grappling with a growing sense of disorientation. My memories were elusive, an intricate puzzle missing crucial pieces. All that existed in my mind was a tangle of images, emotions, and a life that felt like a distant dream. But this man, this Lucian, claimed to be my husband—a claim that sent shockwaves through the fragile equilibrium I had managed to establish.The room we stood in was comfortable, yet foreign. Soft sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting warm hues across the furnishings. But my attention was solely on Lucian, his gaze fixed on me with an intensity that mad

I couldn't believe it. The weight of the truth pressed down on me, threatening to suffocate the air from my lungs. The realization that I had a child, a son, and that he was no longer with us because of my recklessness was a heavy burden to bear. The guilt wrapped around my heart, squeezing it tight, as I struggled to comprehend the magnitude of the loss."You shouldn't blame yourself," Lucian's voice reached me, his words a lifeline in the sea of despair. But how could I not? How could I not bear the weight of responsibility for the life that was lost, for the shattered dreams and broken promises?He should be mad at me, furious with my decision to not listen to him. I expected him to unleash his anger, to take his revenge upon me, to push me away from his pack and his life. But instead, he stood there, his voice laced with a mixture of pain and understanding."You believed it was the best thing to do at the moment. You wanted to help our people, and there's nothing wrong with that,"

I strolled through the corridors of the mansion, the morning sunlight filtering through the windows, casting warm patterns on the polished wooden floors. The mansion held a sense of elegance and history, yet its walls held secrets I could not remember. My footsteps echoed softly as I wandered, lost in thought. As I turned a corner, I spotted Rafi, my young nephew, standing there with a bright smile on his face. In his small hand, he held a delicate wildflower, its petals a vibrant shade of blue. He extended the flower towards me, his eyes filled with affection. "Good morning, Aunt Elisa," Rafi greeted me. "I picked this flower for you. You're still as lovely as before." It was already three o'clock and everyone was expecting the wedding to start but with the groom's absence in the hall, the ceremony couldn't proceed as planned. In the face of embarrassment, the King sent some men to the Everston manor to check where the lord was. Standing at the shadowed part of the balcony upstair

Rafi's eyes lit up with excitement as he continued sharing memories of our time together. "Aunt Elisa, we used to play tennis in the courtyard. I remember you teaching me how to hold the racket properly." I chuckled at the thought, trying to picture myself as a tennis coach. "Did I? I must have been a terrible teacher because I can't remember a thing about tennis." Rafi laughed, the sound of his youthful joy filling the corridor. "Well, Aunt Elisa, I have to admit, I used to win every single time. You said it was because you were letting me win, but I think I was just that good!" "Would you like some tea after your bath, Your Highness?" the butler asked Lauren after the servants prepared her bath and night clothes. "No, I'm fine." Oswin nodded and took his leave, leaving Lauren alone in Alec's spacious yet cold and dimly lit room. Stepping into the huge tub filled with warm scented water, Lauren felt her cold body relax. She didn't have the energy to confront Alec about his sudde