Evelyn, a modern woman, finds herself suddenly transmigrated into a novel where her peaceful life is turned upside down by a crazy Duke who happens to be her husband. Her new life is a maze of danger and betrayal, as the Duke is determined to kill h...
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Inside Ivan's office :
With a deep expression, Ivan sat on the single sofa, crossing his legs. "So you are saying you have blown your cover?" The maid bowed her head, her hands placed one top of other, gripping tightly as she spoke in a low voice, her words echoing. "Maybe... when I was ready, she was preventing me from taking action against those men." Ivan asked once again, "And how did she find out?" Her grip tightened even more, "I am not sure." Interrupting, he demanded, "And what about those rats? Did you find out from which hole they crawled out?" His eyes darkened, his grip tightening on the sofa's arm. With a shaken voice, she said, "I'm afraid, I couldn't..." "Get out," he commanded her.
"What are you going to do now?" Stefan ask. Angrily Ivan's fist landed on the tea table making a loud thud noise, the edges broke fall apart on the floor. "You brought this upon yourself. Don't say I did not warn you", Stefan says before leaving.
After dinner : inside Arya's chember -
Arya was enjoying the warmth of the fire, nestled in the rocking chair near the fireplace, engrossed in the book she had borrowed from the Wills'. Ivan leaned against the doorframe, giving a light knock. Glancing at him, she noted his relaxed demeanor as he entered. Closing the book, she placed it on the side table. "What brings you here at this hour?" she inquired. He settled into a seat, his gaze fixed on her. "Just wanted to see my wife." 'Alright, that's dubious,' she thought, casting him a sarcastic smile.
The velvet nightdress draped over her figure with a luxurious elegance, its deep hue contrasting against the softness of her skin. The fabric cascaded down her body, pooling at her feet in a gentle cascade. The flickering flames of the fire nearby painted a mesmerizing tableau upon her form. Each movement seemed choreographed by the flames, as they flickered and danced, tracing patterns of warmth and intimacy upon her silhouette.
In this moment, she appeared as if she were a muse of the night itself, her beauty ethereal and enchanting, evoking a sense of admiration and fascination in Ivan.
Facing sideways, Ivan took a deep breath and exhaled before glancing at her. "So, how was your day?" he asked awkwardly. "It was fun. We visited a lot of shops in the city, umm..." Arya began before Ivan interrupted, "Yes?" Surprised, Arya stuttered, "Hm? Oh, ah... how was yours?" "Swimming in the sea of spreadsheets, might need a life raft," he joked, adding, "the royals can't sit idly." "Yeah, I see that. Why did he come though?" Arya asked.
Ivan got up, went near the fireplace, and threw some woodblocks into the fire. Turning back to Arya, he said, "The king thinks that the enemy we are facing is a witch." Arya was shocked but maintained her facial composure. "Although people believe the era of witches ended, only a few individuals know they still exist, hiding somewhere, waiting for the right time to rise," he continued. Interrupting him, Arya asked, "Wait, why are you telling me this?"
As he sat back, Ivan reassured her, "It's okay. You are the Dragun Bride; it is one of your duties to play a part in the witch hunt. Besides, even if you knew, who would believe you?" He continued, "The king has sent some people to investigate this matter, and the envoy is just a cover to distract the people. But do not worry, everything is under our control."
