In a special two-way room, Belfor sat on a chair. In front of him was a wall with a small hole, offering a glimpse of what lay beyond.
On the other side sat an extraordinarily beautiful woman in a graceful brown dress—Melinda Horven, the Third Concubine and Belfor's daughter.
When Melinda saw Belfor's pitiful state, a pained expression crossed her face.
She wanted to speak, but the words caught in her throat. A few seconds later, she regained her composure and said, "Father, how are you?"
Belfor let out a small sigh and smiled wryly. "I'm fine. You don't need to worry about me."
Melinda was the daughter he loved and trusted most. He didn't want to see her saddened or burdened by what had happened to him.
"Fine?" Melinda murmured, glancing him up and down. Her father's appearance was a mess—far from the man she remembered.
