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... Griselda.

For Alaric, it was a performance, meticulously crafted.

For Griselda, it was bliss.

He woke beside her each morning in the opulent master suite.

Candlelight gave way to soft dawn filtering through silk curtains.

Her dark hair was invariably spread across the pillows, her plump form radiating warmth beside him.

"Husband…" she'd murmur sleepily, blue eyes fluttering open, a soft blush already staining her cheeks as memory of the night retur ...

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In the midst of what seemed like a battlefield, a young boy with white hair knelt on the ground, struggling to catch shallow breaths. A short sword pierced his heart, his arms and legs were broken, making him unable to stop the crimson blood from coloring the ground.

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“A pathetic person like you could never be my brother,” added a purple-haired girl, her voice seething with anger, as she stood alongside the redhead.

With great effort, the young boy shifted his gaze forward. He could see many familiar faces in front of him—his so-called family, his so-called friends but his gaze remained fixed on her.

“Wh..y, A.nna,” he uttered with immense difficulty and sorrow in his voice, his vision blurring as he locked eyes with the blonde-haired girl, who regarded him with emotionless eyes.

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“I DID THAT SO YOU COULD LIVE!” he shouted, making everyone present flinch in fear.

“I never asked you to do this” the blonde-haired girl replied, her words crushing the very soul of the boy.

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the young boy whispered one last time, a small tear slipping down from his eye as he breathed his final breath.

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