Chapter 1
“Mysterious, Mysterious, it was you I killed…” “Get out of here…” Lady Elenor Vance jolted awake, her eyes wide as she stared at the ceiling, breathing heavily. She finally relaxed when she recognized the familiar surroundings, though her clothes clung to her, soaked as if she had just emerged from water. That dream again… Beside her, Maiden Cerys noticed she was awake and hurriedly wiped the cold sweat from her forehead before handing her a glass of water. “I was worried,” Cerys said earnestly. “Ever since Yvonne returned from Westerwood, Sir Ash has been plagued by nightmares. You used to sleep so soundly. Could it be that you have encountered something terribly unsettling? Perhaps I should accompany you to the chapel to get a blessing.” Lady Elenor Vance licked her lips and shook her head. “There’s no need for that. It’s just the wedding approaching that has me a bit anxious.” Seeing her determined to brush it off, Cerys refrained from further insistence and helped her change out of her soaked garments, tucking her back into bed. But no matter how she tried, Lady Elenor couldn’t find solace again. Months ago, on her way to visit her grandmother in Westerwood, she had encountered bandits. Among those who were abducted with her were pampered noble youths, but these thieves were shameless, exhibiting no fear of retribution. They brutally slaughtered all the men, leaving the women to be violated as if they were mere beasts. They shamelessly took turns. Terrified, she had focused on the one man who had refrained from joining in their depravity, biting her lip as she rushed into his arms, seeking protection. It was a gamble. She had sensed a flicker of restraint in his gaze when his eyes met hers. Luckily, her gamble paid off. Despite being a gang of criminals, the man turned out to be surprisingly easy to deceive. Even though Lady Elenor could feel the undeniable desire radiating from him, with her noble lineage, she claimed that she wished to wait for the day they wed. Amazingly, he held back, tolerating her presence. He was still a young man full of vigor. Though he hadn’t taken her, he had indulged in other things that left her feelings tumultuous and angry, making her long for rescue from that nightmare. Sir Cedric Thorn… Lady Elenor Vance silently mulled over that name. She thought she would soon forget everything that transpired in Cliffside Keep, that all memories of that darkness would be reduced to ashes come the day of her rescue. Yet, the vision of Sir Ash haunted her dreams. She could recall the heat radiating from his body and the fervor of his kiss; even in dreams, her body responded instinctively, quaking under the memory. She whispered to herself: “Sir Cedric Thorn, even if you’re a ghost, you better not come looking for me. Cliffside Keep got what it deserved, falling under the wrath of The Crown's Authority. I merely pointed a way for The Crown's Authority to act and set the fire.” As her anxiety waned, she chastised herself for worrying needlessly. Cliffside Keep was far away; even if Sir Cedric Thorn had miraculously survived, he could never make it to Capital City. He only knew her name and that she resided in the Capital City. With that thought, her heart slowly settled. In a few days, she was to marry Cousin Thomas, a matter that really shouldn’t trouble her so. Revealing her distress to Cousin Thomas might only complicate matters. Thinking of Lord Alaric Cray, a smile crept onto her lips. He was the perfect man she had dreamed of marrying since her youth. Though the House of Cray was more illustrious than the House of Vance, she knew she had achieved a great match. No matter the circumstances, she had navigated this engagement well, and she and Cousin Thomas would surely share a long, loving union. She allowed no obstacles to come between her and Cousin Thomas; no one could.
Chapter 2
It was happening again. That unsettling sensation of being watched, lurking just beneath the surface... Under the clear blue sky in the bustling town square of Westerwood, where vibrant sunbeams danced off the cobblestones and vendors filled the air with their lively calls, Lady Elenor Vance felt a sudden chill creep up her spine. She glanced around, her green eyes scanning the crowd, but there was nothing out of the ordinary, as if it were all just a trick of her imagination. "Elena, are you alright?" Lord Alaric Cray inquired, offering her a candied fruit skewer. His dry palm brushed her forehead gently, his brow furrowed in concern. With the sight of Alaric, the tension in Lady Elenor’s heart lightened slightly. She took a small bite of the sweet treat and mumbled, “It’s nothing. I was just wondering when Cousin Thomas will return.” “Tasty, isn’t it?” “Very sweet. Here, you should try it, Thomas.” To her surprise, Alaric took a bite from the same spot she had just savored, his lips barely curling around the sugary coating. His gaze lingered on her full pink lips as he remarked, “It really is quite sweet.” Heat rushed to Elenor's cheeks, and she scolded him playfully, “Cousin Thomas has been a bad influence…” Alaric playfully shook his fist in mock annoyance, clearing his throat, “Well, we are to be married soon. You should get used to this kind of intimacy.” Caught off guard, Elenor hesitated. Alaric's words stirred memories of another man, one who had spoken similarly, yet his actions had been far more overwhelming. The kisses they shared were never tender; they held no restraint and were always followed by shame, leaving her feeling as if she needed to change clothes to shed the remnants of the encounter. She was reminded of Sir Cedric Thorn, whose roughness and disregard for her dignity filled her with resentment. While Alaric was noble and kind, she could not ignore the shadows of her past. If Cedric truly cared as he claimed, he would have met his end in that devastating fire. The thought brought a strange sense of peace. Disguising her turmoil, she intertwined her fingers with Alaric’s and smiled, “Let’s go see what lies ahead.” “Of course.” Unbeknownst to them, a pair of watchful eyes tracked their every move from across the market. In a nearby tea house, a man gripped a cup of tea tightly, his knuckles turning white as if he might shatter the fragile porcelain with anger or disdain. Young Wesley approached, noticing the peculiar figure wrapped up against the summer heat, only ordering a pot of tea without partaking in its refreshment. “Are you here to watch Lady Yvonne and Lord Henry?” The man jolted from his thoughts, stiffly turning his head, his voice hoarse. “You know them?” “Who doesn’t? They’re the most talked-about couple in Capital City, a match made in heaven! Their backgrounds, their looks — they fit together perfectly; it’s the stuff of legends, truly!” Wesley rambled on, enthusiasm spilling over. “Soon, their families will unite, you know? You have that Capital City accent. You should join the celebration!” The man’s throat tightened, and his meaning was clear. “Is that so?” He tossed a few coins on the table and stormed out, leaving Young Wesley puzzled as he rubbed the back of his head. “Wow, what a strange fellow.”
Chapter 3
Lady Elenor Vance quickly turned her thoughts to the mysterious series of events surrounding her impending wedding. With the big day approaching, she was determined to oversee every detail. After all, it was the marriage she had always dreamed of—the opportunity to finally be beside Lord Alaric Cray, the man whose gentleness and kindness she had admired since she was young. She had meticulously calculated her way into his life, believing they had a bond, orchestrated by her own intentions, while he remained blissfully unaware. Since her youth, Lady Elenor had adored Alaric. She had painstakingly collected his writings and artwork, studied his interests, and honed her skills in poetry, music, and painting—everything to become the perfect partner he could converse with effortlessly. Thankfully, her hard work seemed to pay off; it appeared her desires were finally within reach. As she took a moment to rest, she recalled she needed to visit Brightstone Alley today to fetch a set of delicate accessories for her wedding attire. She only brought along Maiden Cerys for company, mindful of the expense the carriage driver had incurred for such a simple trip. The carriage had already been prepared, waiting patiently for her. As Lady Elenor climbed into the vehicle, she stumbled slightly, her foot missing the step. The carriage driver rushed to steady her, and she regained her balance, murmuring a soft thanks, though she couldn’t help but feel a hint of disdain beneath her polite exterior. The driver caught her fleeting expression but said nothing, instead steering the carriage toward Brightstone Alley. Oddly enough, the journey felt longer than usual; what typically took no more than a steaming cup of tea seemed to stretch on. Furrowing her brow, she lifted the curtain to glance outside. This was indeed the road to Brightstone Alley. Growing anxious, she questioned the driver about the unusual route, her irritation mounting. The man’s voice came through hoarsely as he reassured her they would arrive shortly. Her temper flared, and she was about to chastise him further when—strangely—his voice struck her as somewhat familiar. Just as she was about to lift the curtain to confront him directly, darkness enveloped her. As she stirred consciousness, Lady Elenor found herself in an unfamiliar chamber, the remnants of sleep fading. Her heart stopped when she recognized the man observing her, a figure from her past she thought long gone. Sir Cedric Thorn—was he truly alive? How had he ended up here, and why had he taken her? Her mind raced with thoughts, cycling through what to do next. Then, the man moved, causing her to freeze in fear for a moment. But quickly, she switched her expression to one of delight, secretly pinching her own thigh to induce tears, faking joy. While she assessed him, he scrutinized her too, his face icy. He caught the fleeting panic on her face, and she braced for his anger to boil over. Yet, instead, she leaped into his arms, wrapping her arms around his waist, tears spilling as she stammered, "Cedric, you’re alive… This is wonderful! I've missed you so much!" Sir Cedric Thorn looked momentarily bewildered. Yvonne, the woman clinging to him, trembled slightly, overwhelmed by a grief turned to joy at seeing him. After hesitating, he gently patted her back, offering her some comfort. But it only made her shiver more. Understanding that he had infiltrated Vance Manor and could brazenly kidnap her in the heart of the city, Lady Elenor realized how precarious her situation was. She couldn’t afford to provoke him now; appeasing him was paramount to navigating this chaotic turn of events. He might still harbor feelings for her, sensing her goodwill—perhaps that gave her a sliver of hope. That slim chance could be her way forward.
Chapter 4
“Waaah…” Lady Elenor Vance had initially been putting on a show, but as she continued, Sir Ash ended up genuinely crying. Why was fate so cruel to her, forcing a sheltered young woman to endure such trials? She might have played a few tricks, manipulating some foolish men to her advantage, but she had never done anything truly wicked. “Please, don’t cry…” Sir Cedric Thorn said stiffly as he tried to console her. Lady Elenor Vance, however, was done with reckless sobbing, knowing it might earn him disdain. With misty eyes, she gazed up at him, her tears poised to fall—an act perfected after much practice. Even in tears, she didn’t lose her composure; instead, her tears became a weapon she wielded skillfully. Gently, she reached out to caress his cheek, pain apparent in her voice as she whispered, “Sir Cedric, you’ve lost weight…” She chattered on with expressions of concern, never once mentioning that he had rescued her from Sir Ash; it was as if their separation was merely a long-overdue reunion. Finally, she shifted her tone, playfully feigning anger but really testing him: “If you’re alive, why did Sir Ash come looking for me? You made me worry for nothing! I thought you were caught in the blaze during the Crown's Authority incident…” Sir Cedric Thorn drew her onto his lap just like old times, his rough thumb brushing away her tears. After a moment of thought, he chose to share some important parts of his experience since their last meeting. Lady Elenor Vance straightened her posture, suppressing the urge to escape, and leaned in with an attentive expression that radiated concern. It turned out, after he fled, he was hunted down by the Crown's Authority. He had to hide and evade capture, narrowly escaping a close call. Strangely, however, he never elaborated on how he managed to reach the Capital City in such a short time. Lady Elenor, wise as ever, refrained from asking. She placed a comforting hand over her heart, sighing as she said, “But no matter how it happened, the important thing is you’re alive…” Sir Cedric’s gaze was heavy as it rested on her fair face, and he finally mustered the courage to ask, “Elena, do you truly wish for me to be alive?” When the great fire erupted at Sir Ash’s estate, he could have walked away without a second thought. But he was worried; she might still be trapped inside. He rushed back into the flames, nearly perishing himself in the process. In his frantic search for her, he could only escape through a secret passage, thinking perhaps she had sensed the danger and fled through it. He intended to catch up with her soon after. However, before he could reach Lady Elenor, the Crown's Authority caught up with him, as if they knew the layout of Cliffside Keep all too well. This secret path was known to very few in the stronghold, and he had only ever discussed it with her. Sir Cedric wasn’t naive. It soon struck him that someone may have guided the Crown’s Authority right to him—someone possibly close to her. Lady Elenor stared at him, wide-eyed with disbelief. “What are you saying? You can’t possibly think… it could be me?” Tears like pearls escaped her cheeks, a quiet accusation hanging in the air. “When I heard you were dead, I was shattered. I thought if you went, I’d go too—if not for my parents back home, I would have…” She broke off into sobs. Sir Cedric dreaded her tears, but suspicion gnawed at him, making him anxious. He scrambled to comfort her as her crying gradually subsided. He couldn't hold back the next question. “If that’s true, then what’s going on with your cousin Thomas? Everyone knows in the Capital City that you two are to be wed. That day, I saw you both enjoying a meal and strolling hand in hand, looking… rather intimate.” The hidden bitterness in his tone was evident, striking Lady Elenor more sharply than he intended. That really hit home; she felt exposed. He noticed everything. She managed to redirect his suspicions momentarily, but as another wave of panic washed over her, a thin sheen of sweat formed on her back, dampening her clothes.
Chapter 5
Lady Elenor Vance lowered her eyelids, adopting a sorrowful demeanor as she lamented, “It’s merely a matter of parental arrangement and matchmaking. Though I am from the Vance family’s direct line, I am not favored by my father. The Cray family wants me, and how can a mere woman like me, with so little say, stand against it? You wouldn’t know the pain I carry in my heart, Sir.” She twisted her handkerchief, wiping away her tears, and glanced at Sir Cedric Thorn. Noticing his shifting expression, she sensed that her words would not satisfy him. A feeling of urgency washed over her as she tried to clarify her stance. “At first, I thought you were gone, my heart turned to ash, and I allowed them to dictate my fate. Yet by heaven’s grace, you have returned safely. I could never marry into the Cray family now.” Sir Cedric Thorn barely raised an eyebrow, his voice steady as he asked, “What do you plan to do, Elenor?” His question pressed her to take definitive action; mere verbal promises would not convince a man who had faced life and death. She felt an internal swell of resentment, masking it with a forced smile as she replied, “I will go back and cancel the engagement with the Crays.” His rough fingers brushed against her cheek, a sigh escaping his lips. “But just a moment ago, you claimed that your fate is in your own hands. Surely, you must have a decision regarding the engagement.” His touch burned against her skin, yet she felt as if the spot he caressed was chilled, a shiver coursing through her. Sir Cedric Thorn was indeed the same as before; if she wanted to extricate herself from his grasp, she would have to show more commitment. “Should I be driven to desperation, do you think they could truly take the body of a corpse as a bride?” Sir Cedric chuckled slowly, tightening his hold around her waist, forcing their bodies to align closely. “Why would I want that? It wouldn’t need to come to such trouble; if the groom were already gone, the engagement would naturally be off. Don’t you agree, Elenor?” Lady Elenor Vance found herself blurting out, “Of course!” He regarded her with a smile that was not quite a smile. “What’s this? Elenor, would you truly relinquish me?” A chill ran down her spine. He was indeed a wicked brigand, so quick to snuff out a life with the slightest provocation. Summoning her courage, she countered, “I’m worried for you. Besides, his status is significant; if you truly killed him, the Crays wouldn’t let you off easily. Would you want me to spend my days fleeing and hiding with you?” “I was merely jesting with you, Elenor. Look at how startled you are.” Lady Elenor laughed weakly, “Sir, you seem to have changed. You wouldn’t hurt the innocent before.” Sir Cedric Thorn did not respond; instead, he rested his head on her shoulder, his warm breath tickling the nape of her neck. Elenor felt parched, swallowing hard as she refrained from moving. He softly said, “Elenor, do you know? Young Wesley is dead.” “What… what?” “The Young Wesley who always called you ‘sister,’ the sweet boy with two dimples when he smiled, he was only fourteen.” Lady Elenor Vance fell silent. “I remember him; he loved candy and was most afraid of getting hurt. He always needed coaxing.” “Do you want to know how he died?” Her voice trembled as she stuttered, “How… how did he die?” “He had escaped, but he said ‘sister’ was still inside, so he ran back. Sir Ash had him captured by the Crown’s Authority. In the struggle, they slit his throat, blood everywhere. Such a young boy, it was as if all the blood had flowed out of him. Before he died, he said ‘sister’ was not saved…” “Everyone in the village is dead. The creek runs red with blood. Severed limbs and bones scattered everywhere, headless bodies rolling about. Thank goodness you weren’t there; otherwise, you surely would have been terrified…” “Don’t… don’t say any more,” Lady Elenor Vance cried, her face blanched as she covered her ears. Sir Cedric Thorn pulled her hands away, whispering, “So, Elenor, I only have you left. Will you leave me?” What he didn’t say was that he had returned to save Lady Elenor Vance and almost lost his life in the attempt, bearing scars on his back that would never fade. Lady Elenor could hear the obsession and madness lurking within his calm voice. She knew he would not let her go easily. She forced a pale smile, “I will not leave. I could never betray you.” With determination, she leaned in, kissing the corner of his mouth, just as she had in the past at Cliffside Keep, her nails digging painfully into his palm.
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