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... his face and walked away. But somehow... I didn’t. I didn’t know when my hand moved—or why my body betrayed me—but I stepped aside and let him in.

The moment he entered, his eyes swept over the living room, scanning like he was searching for something, or someone.

"She hasn’t returned from the packhouse," I said quietly, answering the unspoken question about my mother.

He gave a small nod, then turned to face me.

For a long, heavy moment, neither of us spoke.

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Life from birth has been nothing but hell. I lost my parents to some stupid aristocrats whom they offended. Executed for no good reason.

My relatives abandoned me and pushed me aside. They feared for their lives and left me and my sister to starve and wander the streets alone!

No, this is worse than hell!

I watched my sister die of starvation. Her lips were dry and her feet bloody. Her nails were broken and her fingers riddled with cuts. She struggled in my hands and after a few seconds of struggle she passed away. She seemed joyful in death so I prayed mine will come just as swift and merciful as hers.

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Who would want to return to this crazy world?

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I could barely see or speak but how can I miss such a beautiful face? It was an extremely handsome man who gazed at me with tender eyes.

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“Haven’t I suffered enough? Can’t I just rest?” I cried out. Why would I want to stay back in such a cruel world?

“Don’t you want to avenge the death of your parents? Don’t you want to become something greater? I can make that happen!” The beautiful man said with an alluring voice.

“You… Who are you?” I asked with an anxious heart.

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