Early the next morning.
The sun had just risen. Inside a simple yet elegant room, Catrina slowly opened her eyes. Her face was flushed as if feverish, her gaze hazy and wet with disbelief.
She unconsciously reached up, touching her lips with trembling fingers. "Last night… that dream… it felt so real."
Catrina recalled the dream she'd had.
After returning home, she'd felt strangely drowsy for no reason, so she'd gone to bed early.
The moment her head touched the pillow, she had fallen into a bizarre dream.
She found herself in Lathel's room—sitting on his bed—and then… and then…
"We… we kissed." Catrina trembled, feeling as though the warmth and scent of him still lingered on her soft lips.
"He even confessed to me. He said… he loved me."
Catrina clasped both hands over her mouth, her eyes shimmering as if she might cry. But then she took a deep breath, resting one hand on her forehead as she stared up at the ceiling.
"Why would I dream about something like that? Was it because of the letter yesterday?" she murmured, her voice trembling as if holding back a wave of emotion. "But… that dream was too real. It felt like… like we actually…"
Catrina lay still for a long while, waiting for her heart to calm down. Then she forced herself to sit up.
That was when she realized something horrifying—her underwear was soaked, and she had no idea when it happened.
Her face turned scarlet. She yanked the blanket up to cover herself, her heart pounding wildly, as if it might burst from her chest.
"What's happening to me? What on earth is wrong with me?" she whispered, bewildered, glancing nervously around.
After confirming that no one was in or near her room, she hurried to change her underwear—and even the bed sheets.
When she finally finished, she let out a long sigh of relief.
Catrina sat down at her dressing table and stared at her reflection in the mirror.
Even just out of bed, she was stunning—like a princess from a fairytale. Her sleepy, misty eyes gave her an even more enchanting allure.
Her gaze drifted to the vibrant bouquet on the table, still as fresh as if it had just been picked.
She stared at it for a long time before opening the small red box beside it. Inside was a ring, exquisitely carved with intricate patterns, glowing faintly with a soft light that could captivate anyone who looked upon it.
But Catrina's attention wasn't on the ring—it was on the small folded note inside.
She drew it out, took a deep breath, and began to read.
Though she had already read it once the night before, something inside her compelled her to read it again—to make sure it was real.
[I love you! From the very first day I saw you, you were like an angel descending to the mortal world, stealing my heart away.
Your golden hair shines like sunlight, warming the cold corners of my soul.
Your beautiful face—once seen, can never be forgotten.
Your gentle hands make me wish I could hold them forever.
I love you. I beg you to grant this lowly plea of mine—give me a chance to love you.
I know our love is forbidden, but I don't care. My love for you will shatter every chain that dares to keep us apart.]
When Catrina finished reading, her heart was a whirlwind of emotions.
"Could it be…" she murmured, "that Lathel wrote this letter for Arina? No, that can't be. Arina has red hair—but the woman in this letter has golden hair."
"Besides, Arina's never even held Lathel's hand… while I… I've held his hand many times."
Catrina clutched the letter tightly against her soft, heaving chest, her breath unsteady, her lips pressed together as if to keep her heart from escaping.
"Did he really write this letter for me?" Catrina whispered. Of course, no one answered her.
What convinced her most was the last line of the letter.
'A forbidden love.'
Those words made Catrina certain—this letter was written for her.
She gently picked up the ring from the box and slid it onto her ring finger, gazing at it with a look of quiet happiness.
Laying her head on the table, her dreamy eyes lingered on the bouquet. Her fingers brushed unconsciously against her slightly sore lips.
"Could that dream last night… have been real?" she murmured. "If it was, that would be wonderful… but I was so clumsy. I probably made him uncomfortable."
Catrina's body relaxed completely, sinking into the warmth of that memory, her heart fluttering softly. Her thoughts drifted back to the first time she met him—
Knock! Knock! Knock!
"Mother! Are you awake? Someone from the family wants to see you."
"Ah!" Catrina jolted back to reality at the sound of Arina's voice outside the door.
She sat upright, took a deep breath to calm herself, and replied, "I understand. Let him wait in the sitting room."
"Yes!" Arina answered, though she didn't seem to leave right away. "Mother, are you all right? You looked exhausted last night. Did Lathel do something to you?"
Catrina froze, the dream flashing vividly in her mind. Her heart quivered. 'No… Arina doesn't know about the dream. She must be talking about when I danced with Lathel.'
Regaining her composure, she replied softly, "No. I'm fine."
Arina was silent for a moment before walking away.
Catrina exhaled in relief and turned her gaze toward the bouquet on the table. Her eyes softened with a faint hint of melancholy.
…
"Huh! How long have I been waiting? That wretched woman still isn't here?"
In the sitting room, an old man—around seventy, his wrinkled face twisted in impatience—sat on the sofa with his arms crossed. He wore a brown robe that looked expensive but old-fashioned.
In front of him stood Alex and Arina, both visibly irritated.
Hearing the man insult Catrina, Arina frowned and snapped, "The sun's barely up, and you're already here? Can't you let my mother rest?"
The old man scowled, his sharp eyes glinting coldly. "Brat, don't think being a genius Mage gives you the right to speak to me like that. Didn't your mother teach you any manners?"
"Ah, I forgot—you don't even have a father. And your mother… she's nothing but a useless, cheap woman."
"You…" Arina's hands clenched tightly, her body trembling with rage, ready to strike him.
"What?" the old man sneered. "Did I say something untrue? Then where is your father? Bring him here!"
Arina took a deep breath, her face flushed red with anger. "Elder Rotte, don't think that just because you're an elder of the family you can stand here and insult me and my mother."
"You leeches have been draining my mother dry! If she hadn't been managing the business all this time, you'd all be begging on the streets by now!"
"You little brat…" Elder Rotte's beard trembled as his face contorted with fury. "Seems your mother didn't discipline you properly. Then let me do it myself!"
He slowly stood, and in the sealed room, streams of wind began swirling toward him, gathering power.
"That's enough!"
A commanding voice echoed through the room.
Everyone turned toward the door—Catrina was standing there. But unlike her usual gentle self, her beautiful face was now masked with anger and icy authority.
"Elder Rotte, I hope you didn't come here just to insult me and Arina," she said, her voice calm but laced with killing intent.
"Huh!" Elder Rotte snorted and sat back down on the sofa. "The family has issued an ultimatum," he said sharply. "One month from now, if your business doesn't improve—if the family's earnings stay below five hundred thousand gold coins—you will return home immediately."
Catrina frowned. "Return… for what purpose?"
"To get married," Elder Rotte said coldly. "The family has arranged a marriage for you. The man is a Count—someone of high status. You should feel lucky that a filthy woman like you is still considered worth taking."
"As for Arina, she will also return to the family, and Alex will go with her. All of you will be under the family's supervision."
A silent flame ignited within Catrina's chest. Though furious, she forced herself to stay composed and spoke evenly, "Elder Rotte, expanding the business isn't something that can be done overnight."
"You people made a mess of everything, and now I'm the one cleaning it up—while still pushing for growth. One month isn't enough."
"Even at the height of the family's prosperity, our annual profits never exceeded six hundred thousand gold coins. How do you expect me to produce over five hundred thousand in a single month?"
Elder Rotte scoffed, curling his lips in disdain. "Huh! If you can't do it, then give it all up. Return to the family and marry the man the Elders have chosen for you."
Catrina's brows tightened, her eyes sharpening like blades. "So you're pushing me into a corner now? At first, you said I had three years—now you're cutting it down to one month?"
"Do you think I'm some lump of dough you can mold however you please?"
Elder Rotte didn't back down. He stood once more, his wrinkled face twisting with contempt and anger.
"Exactly," he said bluntly. "I am pressuring you. If you can't handle it, let your younger brother take over. As for you… hahahaha… marrying that Count will at least bring some benefit to the family."
The air grew thick with tension—so heavy it could explode at the slightest spark.
Catrina was about to speak when Alex suddenly stepped forward.
"Fine! One month, then," he said firmly. "We can do it!"