"Here's a little reminder, Wife. You are going to perish."
Rosamund, the Daughter of the Duke, the Young Lady was fairest of all the nobles. Who knew in her lifetime, MisFortunate events were bound by her red string. As the circumstances were growi...
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The little lady's body was gradually decreasing its pale complexion. Her little charming plump lips earlier were unusually in the blue spectrum but now regained its natural color. Though the little lady still didn't arise from her deep slumber. Her father was now getting perturbed from her condition.
"Luke, is she still alive?"
The physician chuckled from his dense question. Enchanting brown eyes that resembled the oak trees in the fathomless forest in nature, glistened from the bare sunlight from the window. Brown hair swindled as his movement unveiled upon his laughter. His perfect smile gives an ideal flawless face of a man, and the Duke was allured.
"Your Grace, what kind of question is that? Of course your daughter is well, for now." The Duke scoffed at his remarks. The man's amethyst eyes stared at the little girl in the midst of justifying himself.
"Weren't you the one more horrified than me earlier?" The physician halted his chuckling. He knew he himself had always been distraught about the young lady's condition.
"Your Grace, I shall resume my work in my office. If the young lady does need anything, kindly summon me."
The physician leisurely faded from the Duke's sight.
Time was gradually slow as the Duke remained from the young lady's side. He considered if he wanted to punish Rosamund's fiancé for leaving the lady alone in the forest. Truthfully, the Duke wanted to murder Caius right this instant.
Cold calloused hands clenched his daughter's tiny palms. The little lady was sweating, frantic while sleeping. The Duke then caressed her shimmering blonde hair while his eyes leisurely filled with nervousness.
The child hastily unraveled her amethyst-like eyes.
.
.
.
.
.
Rosamund was stupefied as the young girl identified the man right in front, her only Father. Nevertheless, Rosamund pondered on why he is beside her. She bluntly asked without fathom.
"Father, weren't you supposed to hate me?" The man's amethyst-like eyes yelped in stagger as he glared at his own daughter's eyes. He was truly astonished in her choice of words. The man couldn't imagine that this little girl who he cherished, would be able to utter those words.
'Did that rascal influenced my child? Manipulating into hating me?'
Nevertheless, he tried to be in composure. Yet, noticeable veins began to rise from his fist from clenching it. Murderous aura began reeking out, thus spreading through the room.
