I let go of his hand and fell softly onto the earth.
It hurt a little, just enough to bring forth a precious tear.
In the heart of winter, the Northern King Varian came to the capital to pay tribute.
Vivienne attended the royal banquet with Alaric, and that was where our paths crossed.
She wore a brand–new cloak, its fox–fur collar larger and fluffier than mine.
She flashed a provocative smile, then her gaze immediately fixed on the ring on my left hand, her expression darkening.
“Alaric,” she said, her voice trembling slightly, “That ring on her finger… it matches yours, doesn’t it? How could you wear matching rings with another woman?”
Her voice wavered, as though she had been wronged.
“I don’t care,” she continued. “If she doesn’t give it to me, I’ll break her finger today. That ring belongs to me!”
That ring was a token of my bond with Alaric.
I had crafted both of them with my own hands: one for me to wear, and the other, I slipped onto Alaric’s finger while he was asleep.
When he woke, he immediately caught me, laughing and teasing, “I knew you were up to something sneaky.”
I glared at him in mock indignation.
“What’s wrong with that?” I shot back. “In the customs of our home, matching rings symbolize a promise to live and die together. If you don’t want to, fine.”
He stared at the ring for a long time, then rolled over, turning his back to me with a muttered complaint:
“So feminine. Couldn’t you have chosen a more masculine design? How do you expect me to face the court with this?”
Though he grumbled, he never took off the ring.
I smiled to myself, catching a glimpse of Alaric’s hand–now ringless.
So be it.
I took the ring off and threw it behind me, looking at Vivienne lazily.
“If you want it, pick it up yourself. Like a beggar, always eyeing someone else’s things. How embarrassing.”
I turned to leave, but Alaric suddenly grabbed me.
“Who gave you permission to throw it away?”
“Go pick it up for me.”
His eyes were fixed on my finger, where the imprint of the ring still lingered.
Even though I was a stand–in, I was still me.
I had spent more than three years with Alaric, and no one could say he did not love me at all.
Vivienne, flustered, clutched his hand and whispered, “Forget it, it’s just a trinket. Don’t get upset on my account, take care of yourself.”
Alaric paused, looking back at me with a mocking smile before turning to leave.
Along with King Varian had come a man named Lucien, a fortune teller said to possess the ability to predict the future through astrology.
He wore a white robe and exuded an otherworldly aura, drawing everyone’s attention. Even Vivienne, typically so haughty, couldn’t help but glance at
him.
But he paid no mind to anyone.
Instead, he rested his chin on his hand, staring fixedly at me.
His unblinking gaze made me feel as if I had been caught in a trance.
Chapter 6
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Chapter 6
“Enjoying the view?” he sneered.
He held my waist and raised an eyebrow.
“Sera, have you been eating properly? You’ve become too thin.”
His chin rested on my shoulder as he whispered sweet words in my ear, but his eyes never left Lucien’s direction.
Alaric was like a wolf marking his territory, watching closely for any potential threats.
I smirked and asked, “Are you jealous, Your Majesty?”
His expression shifted slightly. “Of course not.”
I pushed his head away gently and stood up, bending down to whisper in his ear, “Then stop acting this way. It’s disgusting.”
His expression darkened.
Good.
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