"Isolde, how does it feel to be 'pampered' by so many men? Must be nice, huh?" Lyra Virelle toyed with her fingers, her face twisted in contempt as she looked down at the bedraggled Isolde Virelle, who lay sprawled on the ground.
Isolde's gaze met hers, cold and sharp as an ice blade, cutting mercilessly across Lyra's face.
Startled by the piercing glare, Lyra felt a chill but quickly suppressed her panic and stepped closer, a cruel smile spreading across her lips.
"Don't look at me like that. You're scaring me!" she mocked. "But don't worry. I'll make sure you never frighten anyone again."
Lyra's eyes gleamed venomously as she motioned to someone behind her. In an instant, a knife flashed, slicing across Isolde's neck. Blood gushed forth.
As Isolde crumpled, her fading gaze found a familiar figure in the distance—Caelan Elune!
She had loved him desperately! Yet he had conspired with her sister, allowing filthy men to rob her of her innocence—and now her life.
"Die!" Lyra spat, grinding her heel into Isolde's fallen body.
…
Isolde woke with a start, gasping from a nightmare. Her eyes flew open, and she found herself in her bedroom, familiar black-and-white tones surrounding her, accented by bright, celebratory red balloons and streamers. The entire room radiated festivity.
This was her shared bedroom with Orion Astron.
The sound of running water from the bathroom ceased. The door opened, and Isolde tensed, her eyes fixed warily on the entrance.
A man stepped out, a towel slung low around his waist, another in hand as he dried his hair, head slightly bowed.
His presence was overwhelming, a forceful, almost regal aura emanating from him.
Seeing his bare, well-defined chest, Isolde instinctively lifted her hand to cover her face.
'Wait—where are the scars?!' She ran her fingers over her cheeks in disbelief.
Smooth, unblemished skin greeted her touch, flawless and soft.
'Hold on... Orion's leg…' Isolde's eyes widened in shock.
Orion's leg had been ruined by the poison she had once given him—crippled for years.
How was it suddenly whole again? Strong and well-formed, just as it had been years ago.
Upon seeing Isolde's dazed, vacant expression, a hint of disappointment flickered in Orion's eyes.
Tonight was their wedding night, and though he had refrained from pressing her, she still looked utterly miserable, as if being married to him was a fate worse than death.
Had she come to despise him this deeply?
"I'll sleep in the guest room," Orion said, his voice cold and detached.
He dressed swiftly, ready to leave.
Hearing those familiar words, Isolde was momentarily stunned.
This was exactly what had happened on their wedding night. How could she ever forget?
Because she had disliked him using the bathroom in this room, she had driven him away, and he had never returned.
"Wait!" she called urgently, standing up.
Orion paused, suspicion clouding his face.
"What?" he asked.
"I-I mean... you can stay," she stammered, her cheeks flushing a rosy hue.
His eyes narrowed, lips twitching as if suppressing an unfamiliar smile. "You…"
"Hubby, are you really going to make me spend our wedding night alone?" Isolde's eyes sparkled, her voice softening to a whisper, her ears burning red.
It was the first time he had heard her call him that—"hubby."
Orion's throat tightened, and he swallowed, catching himself.
"What do you want?" he asked, his tone guarded.
The words made her chest ache with guilt, the remorse almost suffocating.
In her past life, she had treated him with contempt, never showing him kindness unless she needed something from him.
A small smile lifted her lips as she said, "I want you to sleep with me."
Orion's eyes widened, studying her intently, his silence stretching. Just when she feared he would refuse, he finally spoke. "Drink your milk first."
She pouted. "I don't want to..."
"Drink it, and I'll stay." His eyes gleamed with mischief, though his voice remained frosty.
"Really?" Isolde asked, her gaze hopeful, as if clinging to his promise.
Something in her earnest eyes seemed to sway him.
After a pause, Orion nodded, and she beamed. Even though she hated the taste of milk, she obediently drank half the glass.
"You can finish the rest." She handed him the glass, and he downed the remaining milk without hesitation.
"So... bed?" she suggested, looking at him with a triumphant grin.
"Fine."
They lay side by side, but Orion kept his distance, a gap between them wide enough for two more people.
Isolde frowned. She then inched closer, pressed her petite body against his back, and wrapped an arm around his waist, inhaling the fresh scent of his shower.
The moment her fingers brushed his skin, Orion's body went rigid.
After a few tense seconds, he turned and pulled her into his embrace, fighting the urge to kiss her forehead.
That night passed in silence.
The next morning…
Isolde rubbed her sleepy eyes and reached for his side of the bed, only to find it cold and empty.
A flash of hurt crossed her face. Did he still not believe she wanted to be with him?
Orion had just finished his morning run and pushed the door open, intending to check on her. Their eyes met, and an awkwardness hung in the air.
"I was... just passing by," he said, fumbling for an excuse. "Wanted to see you."
He turned to leave, bracing himself for her usual disdain.
But Isolde's eyes sparkled like obsidian.
"Hubby, good morning!" she chirped, dashing toward him, barefoot. Before he could react, she leaped into his arms and kissed his cheek.
Orion caught her, worried she might fall, his face expressionless but his heart racing.
Isolde leaned in, taking in his scent with a satisfied sigh, then kissed his other cheek.
"Hubby, take a shower and join me for breakfast, okay?" she said, her voice sweet and teasing, her eyes brimming with affection.
In this life, she would make amends for the regret of their past.
Orion stumbled into the bathroom, dazed. He touched the spot where her lips had brushed his cheek, his expression unchanging, but his heart beating wildly.
…
After breakfast, as Orion prepared to leave for work, Isolde sent him off with another kiss, leaving a smile on his lips he couldn't hide.
Once he was gone, Isolde turned toward the living room, only to hear a soft voice call out, "Isolde!"
The sound froze her, and the warmth around her turned icy. Her gaze darkened as she looked toward the door.
