The villainess was no longer alone; she was the heart of the House of Veridia.
"Your favorite dried jasmine," he muttered, looking everywhere but at her eyes. "I noticed your supply was low." The villainess was no longer alone; she was
Her father, the Duke of Veridia, had always been cold, a man who viewed his daughter as a political chess piece. Yet, as Elara prepared to face another day of scorn, the heavy oak doors of her study swung open. Instead of a reprimand, the Duke stood there holding a small, intricately carved wooden box. The villainess was no longer alone