The party was loud, filled with the clinking of glasses and people laughing, but Lucien didn't care about any of it. His eyes were fixed on the girl in the rag-like green dress, who looked very out of place.
He moved through the crowd, keeping his distance but never losing sight of her. His heart hammered against his ribs.
It was her. It was really her.
Over the years, all he remembered was her eyes, but he had forgotten the name he had randomly given her under that tree. So when he overheard people whispering her name, Seraphina, he felt a pang in his chest.
But what shocked him more was what the people were saying next. She wasn't just an orphan anymore. She was the real, long-lost daughter of the Lancaster family. The tiny girl who used to dig mud with her bare hands was the heiress to an empire.
He felt a sudden surge of happiness. He wanted to walk up to her, talk to her, and ask how she had been all this time. But as he got closer, that happiness died.
