"Amidst forgotten memories, can she rediscover her past and confront a husband she doesn't remember?"
A married young couple is forced to arrange marriage..how will they pass the coming trouble..
a wife who had known love but didn't know how to acc...
Kylan and Andre returned from hunting big boars, their black cloaks stained with blood. Kylan, with blood on his cheek and hands, headed to Arshina's room, ignoring the maid's attempt to stop him.
"Wait, Duke," the maid began, but Kylan hurried past, she could only mutter to herself, "At least wash your hands..."
She must be in her room. I need to see her, to give her this flower. he thought, holding the delicate snow flower in his hand. Today is my birthday, and she has given me so much. I want to show my gratitude by at least giving her this.
With a hand stained with blood, the white flower tainted with crimson, he approached her door. Knocking softly at first, then with increasing urgency, he called out her name, "Rina, are you in?" But there was no response. "Rina, open the door." he called again, growing more desperate with each attempt,"Rina."
With no answer forthcoming, he pushed open the door, his heart pounding with apprehension. The room was empty, devoid of her presence. Panic rising within him, he called out her name once more,"Rina."his voice echoing through the silent space. Unbeknownst to him, she heard his desperate cries from her study, but lost in her own world of papers and documents, she did not reply.
"Rina, where are you?" He ran through the halls, his voice echoing with desperation. "Rina, where the hell are you?" Agony gripped his heart as he searched, his mind racing with fear.Where is she? I can't find her, nor can I feel her mana. No, she didn't leave me, right? She has to be here, somewhere, where I can see her. She has to be in front of my eyes. She can't leave me. I can't be without her. Even if she hates me, it doesn't matter, as long as she is beside me. I can't live without her. Where is she? Where is she? Tears threatened to spill from his eyes, his anguish palpable.
Just as he was about to seek help from Martha and Edward, he noticed that the door to the duke's study room was open. With a glimmer of hope, he dashed inside.
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And there she was, seated in her chair, clad in her green night dress, her glasses perched on her nose, her hair cascading around her shoulders. The soft light of twilight bathed her in a gentle glow, casting a halo around her.
A wave of relief washed over him as he beheld her safe and sound. "So she did not leave," he murmured in relief. But then, his relief gave way to confusion as he looked at her. "Why are you here?" he asked softly, his voice tinged with bewilderment.
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