Chapter 2

Victor rode a strong horse. He wore a dark formal robe with a gold sash around his waist. Behind him were thirty-six carriages full of wedding gifts. Each carriage was covered in red silk, with crystal lamps hanging from every corner. His face was cold and serious, but his eyes showed a rare softness, meant only for the person who had once saved his life.

The whole capital was full of rumors. The Prince of Frosthold, who had never cared for women, was actually going to marry the daughter of a low-ranking official.

Elena was grinding herbs in the apothecary when the thunderous sound of drums and gongs outside made her fingers pause mid-motion.

The ginseng roots in the bowl were crushed into fine powder, like the broken bones of the Reith family in the past. She looked down at her hands. Her wrists were wrapped in rough cloth, and blood was already seeping through to her fingers. After seven days and nights of bleeding to save a life, her body had still not recovered. But she had no choice. She had to come to the Smith household as a healer.

She needed the Smith family’s protection. She also needed to get close to Yvonne and find out the truth behind the Reith family’s massacre.

"Elena, you’re needed in the front hall!" the head servant called from outside. "The Prince of Frosthold is here. He specifically asked to see all the maids who know medicine."

Elena took a deep breath, picked up the tray of herbs, bowed her head, and stepped out.

In the main hall, Victor sat at the head seat, thoughtfully tracing the blood pendant in his hand.

The pendant was smooth and warm. The blood stains had soaked into the dragon and phoenix carvings, as if they were alive. He remembered, when he was unconscious, someone softly humming a Jiangnan folk tune by his ear; he remembered the faint herbal scent on those hands as they changed his bandages, and the small mole on that person's collarbone that brushed his lips, sending a shiver through his heart.

But he couldn't share any of this with Yvonne.

Because Yvonne had told him, with tears streaming down her face, that she was the one who performed bloodletting on him for seven days and nights, the one who carried him out of the carnage with her frail body. Every detail matched except for one thing. She had no scent of herbs, and there was no mole on her collarbone.

"Yvonne," Victor called softly, not even realizing the tenderness in his own voice. "When you saved me, did you leave behind any keepsake?"

Yvonne lowered her head, a shy blush on her cheeks. "The pendant you gave me is the best keepsake."

Victor fell silent. Something wasn't right. That pendant had already been clutched in his hand when he woke up. He'd asked Yvonne about it, and she'd only replied, "Maybe you were holding it yourself while you were unconscious."

But she never once mentioned the distinctive Reith family engraving on the pendant.

Footsteps echoed outside the hall, and Elena walked in with her head lowered, carrying a tray of herbs. She wore a rough, plain blue dress, her hair pinned up with a crude thorn stick. She was so thin, she looked like a reed swaying in the wind.

Yet Victor couldn't shake the feeling that he'd seen this figure somewhere before.

"Your Highness, the house healer pays her respects," she said, kneeling and pressing her forehead to the cold stone floor.

Victor didn't tell her to rise. With calm indifference, he simply said, "Look up."

Elena slowly lifted her head, but her eyes stayed level with his collar, never meeting his gaze. It was proper etiquette, but also a mark of her humble position.

But Victor saw her face clearly.

Her face was pale and thin, but her eyes, dark like wet black stone after rain, were deep enough to get lost in. Suddenly, Victor felt his chest tighten, as if an invisible hand had grabbed his heart.

"State your name," Victor said.

"Your servant Elena."

"Elena?" Victor rolled her name over his tongue, feeling a strange dryness. "Not a bad name at all. But I heard you once wanted my pendant?"

Elena's pupils shrank.

That was something Yvonne had said. Earlier that morning, Yvonne had offhandedly told Victor that there was a healer in the house who had secretly touched his pendant and was caught in the act.

"Your servant wouldn't dare," Elena said, pressing her forehead to the floor. "The pendant is far too precious for someone as lowly as me. I wouldn't dare to even think about possessing it."

"You wouldn't dare?" Victor let out a cold laugh, unfastening the pendant from his waist and waving it right in front of her face. "Funny, this pendant seems to favor the kind of 'timid' servant who pretends not to want it."

He loosened his grip, letting the pendant fall. It hit the ground hard, right at Elena's feet.

"Pick it up," Victor commanded.

Elena's fingers trembled as she picked up the pendant, still carrying the warmth of his skin. The blood-red mark on the pendant hadn't dried yet, looking just like a scar frozen in time.

"Did you get a good look?" Victor's voice was icy, coming from above. "This pendant is Yvonne's lifeline, her keepsake. Are you even worthy to lay a finger on it?"

Elena clenched the pendant so tightly her knuckles turned white.

She remembered slipping it into his arms, the pendant still held her warmth then. Now, his warmth had seeped into it as well, but it was no longer hers.

"Your servant... is not worthy," Elena whispered, holding the pendant aloft and presenting it respectfully to Yvonne.

Yvonne accepted it with a soft smile. "Don't scare her, Your Highness. She's just a healer." She glanced at Elena, "Go on now. Make sure you bring the medicine to my rooms tonight, and don't be late."

Elena stepped back three times, then turned and left.

She walked quickly, as if she were running away.

But Victor's gaze was like a nail in her back, never letting her go until she vanished at the end of the corridor.

Late at night, the apothecary was lit only by a faint, flickering candle.