Ayesha woke up with a sharp gasp, breathing fast like she had just been drowning. Sweat clung to her skin. She blinked, her vision blurry at first, then slowly clearing.
Lily was sitting right beside her.
"Ayesha…!" Lily cried, her red eyes wide.
Ayesha clutched her blanket, her body trembling. "I… I'm glad that was just a dream," she whispered, but her voice cracked with doubt.
Lily leaned closer. "What dream?" she asked softly.
Ayesha's throat felt dry. "What happened?" she asked instead.
"You collapsed," Lily explained carefully. "You tried to jump, but Father caught you just in time. If he hadn't—" She stopped herself, biting her lip.
The words sank in. Ayesha's heart twisted with guilt. Lily had seen her like that, desperate and broken. She covered her face with both hands. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…" Her sobs spilled out uncontrollably.
"H-hey! it's okay" Lily panicked, grabbing her arm. "Why are you saying sorry? Are you hurt?"
But Ayesha only shook her head. It wasn't pain in her body—it was the heavy shame inside her chest.
The door creaked open. Ischyrós walked in, his presence filling the room. He looked at her with a serious expression.
"If you don't want this marriage," he said, his voice steady, "I'll let you go. But the mark will never be removed. If you change your mind, you can always come back."
Ayesha froze. The words hit her like a wave—relief washed over her, but sadness came with it too. She cried harder, her tears falling fast. She wanted freedom, but saying goodbye still hurt.
Ischyrós didn't move closer. He only stood there, watching her cry until her sobs softened.
A few hours later, Ayesha packed her things into a small bundle and stepped into the hall. The mansion felt too big, too empty. Her footsteps echoed as she walked, her stomach heavy with nerves.
She turned to a corner and found Beatrice waiting. Ischyrós' sister smiled, but it wasn't kind.
"You're giving up already?" Beatrice asked with a laugh.
Ayesha froze, unable to answer.
"Just so you know," Beatrice continued, her tone sharp, "life out there will be worse than here. So good luck, Ayesha. See you around." She tapped Ayesha's shoulder and walked off.
Ayesha stood still, her chest tight. Was Beatrice warning her—or just mocking her?
Before she could think more, a man appeared in the corridor. He waved like they were old friends.
"Hey!" he greeted, cheerful and bright.
Ayesha's stomach dropped. She knew his face. The grim reaper from her dream.
But he didn't look dark and scary anymore. Now he seemed lively, almost playful.
"I'll be the one to show you the exit," he said with a grin.
Ayesha hesitated, her steps faltering.
Then Ischyrós appeared again, his voice cold. "Don't make Ayesha your next victim, you fool."
The man just laughed, careless. "Relax. I'm only having a little fun."