From the moment I was born, a specter in scarlet clung to me. She was my father's mistress, a vengeful spirit unable to find peace after he abandoned her, driving her to leap to her death. Her malice claimed my parents, but I, blessed by fate and generations of pure souls, narrowly escaped her grasp. Still, she ensured my life was far from peaceful. To appease her simmering wrath, I lived within the hallowed walls of a cloister for twenty years. Just three days before the scarlet specter was due to finally cross over, Marcus Thorne burst into my sanctuary, desperate for my aid to quell a terrible affliction that threatened to consume him. I couldn't bear to watch him suffer such a violent demise, but I knew the scarlet specter detested oath-breakers. So, I laid down my terms. "If you take my purity, you must pledge your unwavering devotion to me. You must never betray me in this life, or you will face retribution. Are you certain you want my help?" Marcus swore his allegiance without a moment's hesitation. Yet, seven years later, it was he who leaned in and pressed his lips to Lydia Sterling's, then casually remarked to a friend, "Willow is utterly devoid of passion. All she knows is silent contemplation. I've long grown weary of her detached demeanor!" I glanced at the scarlet specter beside me, her translucent form alight with scornful amusement, then turned and walked away. Those who break their sacred vows are destined to face their reckoning. … When I returned to the manor, all my belongings had been unceremoniously dumped in the great hall. The maid, Elara, looked at me with open mockery. "His Lordship says Lady Lydia will be staying tonight. She is delicate and needs the sunniest room." I didn't bother to argue. I was leaving anyway. As I gathered my things, Marcus entered, his arm possessively draped around Lydia. The moment Lydia heard she’d be staying in my former bedchamber, she visibly winced. "I refuse to sleep in a room someone else has occupied, Marcus! You know I have a strong aversion to… shared spaces!" She disdained my former room. Yet, she felt no revulsion for the man I had shared. Marcus didn't hesitate. "I'll contact a design firm tomorrow to redecorate the room to your exact specifications. For tonight, you’ll have to make do with the guest suite." He added, with a reassuring smile, "Rest assured, it’s a guest suite no one has ever occupied before." Elara’s gaze grew even more pointedly mocking. I found it rather ironic myself, especially recalling that Marcus had said the very same words to me seven years ago, when I first followed him here. Seven years, and he’d forgotten everything. Just as I prepared to leave, Marcus turned to me. "Lydia hasn’t been sleeping well lately. Didn’t you say your amulet helped you sleep soundly? Let her try yours." My amulet. It was the only thing that kept the scarlet specter at bay. Before I wore it, she tormented me every night, stealing my peace. Only with its protection could I manage to rest. Fearing Marcus would be afraid, I had never told him about the specter, but I had told him that the amulet had to be worn twenty-four hours a day, never to be removed. "I…" Before I could even speak, Marcus, impatient, reached out and yanked the amulet from around my neck. "It’s just an amulet, why are you being so difficult?" As he spoke, Marcus offered the amulet to Lydia, but she recoiled in disgust. Remembering her aversion to "shared spaces," he quickly handed the amulet to Elara instead. "Take it to the sun terrace and let it air out for two days, then bring it to Lady Lydia." Freed from its constraint, the scarlet specter instantly materialized before me, her spectral face alight with a mocking grin. It was as if she was taunting me for breaking my sacred vows seven years ago, all for Marcus. I ignored her, turning to leave, when my phone suddenly rang. "Miss Thorne, you must come back! Someone has stormed the mountain and is demolishing the cloister!" My heart sank. I immediately turned and raced towards the door—but before I could reach the main entrance, the manor's guards seized me, dragging me back into the villa and forcing me onto a bed. Marcus stood beside the bed, his expression grim. "Lydia says that when you were near her just now, she felt noticeably better. But the moment you left, she could barely breathe." He sat on the edge of the bed, gently stroking my hair. "They say you are blessed with ten lifetimes of purity. Since your blood type matches Lydia's, perhaps a transfusion might cure her illness." "Don’t worry, it's just a little blood. It won't hurt." The family physician, Dr. Evans, inserted a needle as thick as my thumb into my arm. I had always been terrified of pain and couldn't help biting my lip. Marcus watched, about to say something, when Lydia’s distressed cry echoed from outside the room. "Marcus, where are you?!" Marcus sprang up, rushing out of the room. By the time 400cc of blood had been drawn, my vision was already blurring. Before Dr. Evans could even remove the needle, Lydia’s agonizing cry rang out again. "My dearest Marcus, I feel so unwell!" Marcus's anxious voice followed. "Why hasn't she improved after the transfusion? Is it not enough blood?" He ordered, "Dr. Evans, draw another 400cc, quickly!" Dr. Evans looked troubled. "My Lord, the Duchess is already anemic. 400cc is the absolute limit. If I draw more, I fear…" Marcus cut him off without hesitation. "Just draw it! What's with all the excuses? Can't you see Lydia is practically dying?!" Dr. Evans, unable to dissuade him, met my gaze with a look of profound reluctance. "Duchess…" "It's alright, Dr. Evans. Just draw it." At that moment, all I wanted was for this to end so I could rush to the cloister to see what had happened. So, after a total of 800cc was drawn, I immediately tried to sit up. Dr. Evans quickly pressed me down. "Duchess, you must remain in bed and rest. You absolutely cannot get up!" "No, I have to go." Pushing Dr. Evans aside, I forced myself to stand, walking towards the door. But due to severe blood loss, my legs buckled, and I stumbled. Marcus suddenly appeared, catching me and pulling me into his arms. "What are you doing? Dr. Evans said you need to rest, didn't he?!" "Let me go, I have to leave…" I struggled to break free. Marcus suddenly lifted me, forcefully placed me back on the bed, and pinned my shoulders down with his hands. "Willow, what you need right now is rest! Whatever it is, it can wait until you've recovered!" Dr. Evans also chimed in, "Duchess, please listen to His Lordship! Right now, all you can do is rest in bed." But how could I possibly have time to rest? By the time my body recovered, the cloister would be completely demolished! I struggled again, but Marcus held me down firmly. In my frantic effort, a sudden horrifying realization flashed in my mind. I stared at the man before me, disbelief etched on my face. "You ordered the cloister to be torn down?!" In that moment our eyes met, a flicker of guilt was unmistakable in his. But the very next second, he spoke with defiant self-righteousness. "That old charlatan has been deceiving people for years! Someone should have dealt with him long ago! I demolished it for the good of the people! To prevent anyone else from being swindled!" "You, too, were deceived by him! He said you couldn't leave, but you’ve been with me all these years and you’re perfectly fine, aren't you?!" He clearly forgot that the "old charlatan" he spoke of had saved his life when he was bitten by a venomous serpent on that very mountain. I couldn't hold back any longer. I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face. "Anyone has the right to say that, but not you!" Pushing Marcus away, I immediately tried to stand, but the surge of anger overwhelmed me, and I lost consciousness. I woke up in the infirmary. Marcus sat by my bed, his face a mixture of complex emotions. "The physician says you're three months pregnant. Why didn't you tell me?" I ignored him, attempting to get up. He pressed me back down onto the bed. I had no strength to resist, so I just stared at him coldly. "If you're so powerful, then keep me confined for life." "You…" Marcus was about to speak when Lydia’s call came through. He quickly mumbled, "I’ll see you later," then turned and rushed out, leaving two guards outside the door. I couldn’t get out, and I couldn't find my phone. I finally managed to secretly borrow a phone from a sympathetic nurse and sent a message. After sleeping for a whole afternoon, strength finally returned to my body. I persuaded a nurse to exchange clothes with me, and I swiftly left the room. In the corridor, a patient's family member was scrolling through videos on their phone. On the screen, Lydia, in a haute couture gown, clung to Marcus's arm, a perfect pair. My gaze, however, was fixed on the sapphire jewelry adorning Lydia's neck, ears, wrists, and fingers… Those pieces were originally designed by Marcus specifically for me. He had said that sapphires symbolized loyalty and steadfastness, just like our love. He had even hired a renowned jeweler, who spent three years on the design. But now, they graced another woman. On the screen, the host continuously praised the couple as a golden pair, a match made in heaven, and Marcus never once denied it. The scarlet specter, witnessing this, once again twisted her face into a mocking smile. I tried to ignore the bitterness welling in my heart, walking towards the nurse's station to handle my discharge. But a few yards away, I suddenly heard the nurses inside talking: "The patient in Room 308's husband has scheduled an abortion for her. Tomorrow morning at nine. Prepare for it." Another nurse gasped in surprise. "Room 308's patient is so anemic. Can she even withstand the procedure?" The speaking nurse shrugged. "That's beyond our control…" Dismissing the idea of discharge, I turned and walked out of the infirmary. I needed to pick up my identification documents to travel, which meant returning to the manor. I assumed Marcus and Lydia were still at their interview and wouldn't be back so soon, but to my surprise, they were already there, blocking my path. "Aren't you supposed to be in the infirmary?" Marcus exclaimed, realizing I had escaped. He rushed forward, grabbing my wrist. "Come! Back to the infirmary with me!" Lydia's eyes flashed with quick resentment, and she began to feign distress. "It's all my fault for being so delicate, that Marcus had to force you to give me a transfusion, causing you to suffer a loss of vitality, and now the baby might be lost. Miss Thorne, please blame me!" Marcus could never bear to see her cry. He immediately released my hand and pulled Lydia into his embrace. "This has nothing to do with you. You have no reason to blame yourself!" Lydia leaned into Marcus's chest, casting a triumphant, challenging smirk my way. The next second, she adopted a falsely compassionate tone. "Miss Thorne rushed back in such a hurry. She must want to see the Abbot off, one last time, mustn't she?" Her words instantly sent a chill down my spine. "What are you talking about? What do you mean, 'see the Abbot off, one last time'?!" Lydia raised a hand to her mouth, feigning shock. "Oh, Miss Thorne didn't know? The Abbot took a fall an hour ago. He's… passed away." This news struck me like a bolt of lightning. Although I knew Lydia wouldn't joke about such a thing, I still stared at Marcus in disbelief. "She's lying to me, isn't she?" Meeting my gaze, Marcus’s guilt was evident, but he quickly puffed out his chest, feigning righteousness. "That old charlatan has been swindling people for years! His death is no loss. Falling to his death was too easy a fate for him!" To hear him utter such heartless words, I lunged at him, but Marcus angrily shoved me to the ground. "Are you done making a scene? If you keep this up, do you think I'll let you see that old charlatan one last time?!" Lydia clung to Marcus's arm, looking down at me with disdain. "Marcus, Miss Thorne is simply distraught with worry. After all, she lived in that cloister for twenty years. It's understandable that she wants to see the Abbot off. For my sake, since she gave me blood, why don't you take her along tomorrow?" Marcus's expression immediately softened. "If not for Lydia pleading on your behalf, I certainly wouldn't take you. Don't you have a thank you for her?" How utterly ridiculous! My movements, my choices, now required the sanction of his mistress! Realizing I wouldn't be able to leave tonight, I didn't bother with further words. I turned and walked directly to the guest room. I planned to get a good night's rest, but no sooner had I lain down than the door was violently kicked open.
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