The most popular dancer in the capital, Marlena was rarely seen on Fiore Street these days. The nobility competed to invite her to their banquets, and her fame only grew. Now, even high-ranking nobles hesitated to request her presence due to her staggering price.
'Everything has gone exactly as he wanted,' she thought bitterly.
She recalled a pair of blood-red eyes.
Her mood soured.
The man who had stolen away her dear friend, now, she could only hear about Eileen through newspapers and magazines.
Because of her obsessive collecting, her house was practically overflowing with publications that mentioned Eileen's name.
She worked tirelessly to distract herself from the loneliness, but she still missed those small, intimate tea times on the second floor of an old inn.
Even though she knew they would never happen again.
"Men are always the problem," she muttered.
Her bodyguard said nothing, simply tilting the umbrella to shield her better.
