She looked up at him and said, "Maybe if you ever truly looked into my situation—if you saw the truth behind my predicament—you might take pity on me."
With that, she turned and walked straight to her room. Today, there were no photos, no ceremony to commemorate their union. Even the wedding they had shared—the hurried, secret one—hadn't left them with a single picture. He had instructed her to use her real name—Julia Kim—and she had. One thing she knew for certain: she would never endure what she had at her father's house again.
Khalil had told her before that he wanted to make her suffer. The words had struck her like a cold blade, but they had not shaken her resolve. Julia's mind was made up. She had a goal, a dream she had clung to for years: to live a life of freedom, truly free. Nothing and no one—neither him nor anyone else—would steal that from her. That determination burned inside her, fierce and unwavering. She would take everything life had to offer, on her terms.
She arranged her belongings carefully, then settled down to watch a movie before drifting into a deep, purposeful sleep.
The next morning, golden rays of sunlight filtered through her window, nudging her awake. She rose from the bed and headed to the bathroom, brushing her teeth in silence. On the shower ledge, she noticed some bleach powder. Carefully mixing it, she removed the dye from her hair and her contact lenses. Her fake identity had already been exposed, so there was no need for concealment anymore.
Clothes she had recently purchased hung neatly on the wardrobe racks, and a closet displayed her shoes and bags in perfect order. She had arranged everything meticulously, yet she hadn't realized there was a walk-in wardrobe tucked in the corner of the room. Perhaps this had once been someone else's—maybe his girlfriend's. Where had she gone? And what did that mean for Julia?
She slipped into a yellow oversized hoodie and a long black denim skirt and made her way to the kitchen. A woman in her forties moved about with practiced ease, and from her attire, Julia guessed she was the cook. The woman looked up and smiled warmly.
"Hello, you must be Miss Julia. What would you like me to prepare for you?"
Julia returned the smile, gratitude warming her chest. Growing up, her father had focused entirely on her education, preparing her to take over responsibilities she had never chosen. She had never learned to cook, and it had been months since she last tasted a proper Korean meal. Now, with her identity no longer hidden, she could finally indulge herself.
"I'm Julia," she said. "Could you make tteokbokki? And some dalgona coffee?"
"I'm Adeline," the woman replied with a nod. "It will be ready shortly, Miss Julia."
Julia's mind wandered. Perhaps she could also use this time to learn to cook. Adeline seemed kind and patient. A part of her wondered where Prince Khalil had gone; she hadn't seen him since morning. That he had chosen not to harm her—or interfere—was something she was quietly grateful for. Still, she knew she couldn't let her guard down. He might try again.
After thanking Adeline, she waved and stepped outside, hoping to find Salim, the driver. But he was nowhere in sight. Her heart raced, and she hurried back to the kitchen to ask.
"I don't know where His Highness went," Adeline said politely. "My duty is to cook, ma'am. Perhaps you could call him?"
Julia froze. How could she tell this woman she didn't even have the number of the man she claimed to be married to? She exhaled slowly, willing herself calm. No matter what happened, she would not let panic cloud her mind. She had a plan, and she would follow it.
She decided to make the best of the morning. Maybe she could while away the hours reading a novel on her phone and start learning to cook from Adeline next week. If only the house had a library—or if she knew her way around the streets of London well enough to go out…
Her fingers swiped over her phone screen. She had always been a fan of novels, and Pride and Prejudice was one of her favorites. Today, she would read it again, letting herself be carried away into a world of elegance, wit, and a little bit of romantic chaos. And quietly, in the back of her mind, she prepared herself: whatever Khalil planned next, she would face it with her freedom intact.
The story between Elizabeth and Darcy somehow reminded her of her own situation. Khalil had misunderstood her from the very start—just as so many others had. People rarely saw the full picture of who she truly was. Some had labeled her proud, and she knew that many had secretly rejoiced when her father disowned her. Humans had an uncanny fondness for prejudging, for slapping labels on others and feeling satisfied by it.
Her life had changed dramatically, and while she had once dreamed of marrying a Prince Charming—or perhaps a prince straight out of a Cinderella story—this was not the way it was going to happen. She wanted a marriage founded on love, not one with a man who viewed her as a spy or an intruder.
By the time the clock struck five in the evening, she had almost resigned herself to a quiet evening. Then the sound of the door opening caught her off guard. For a moment, she thought it was Khalil. But to her surprise, it wasn't him.
Standing at the door was a man she had never seen before. He had sharp brown eyes and golden blonde hair that caught the light. He wore a black coat over a black shirt and black trousers, and he regarded her with an air of polite confidence.
"Miss Kim," he greeted, his voice smooth and measured.
Julia blinked, taken aback. This was not the evening she had expected—and certainly not the visitor she had anticipated.
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