Episode 1
“Ugh!”
Her husband, wearing a white Bauta mask, let out a pained groan.
It was a kind of rampage. His eyes had turned bloodshot, and his back writhed as if something was trying to break free from it.
Olentia, who shared the bed with him, was the first to notice his uncontrolled state.
She quickly threw aside the cumbersome blanket and grabbed his hand.
Contact.
She wanted to transmit her holy power through touch to ease her husband’s suffering.
But it seemed mere touch wasn’t enough. He emitted a growl like a wild beast.
“This isn’t enough. Right now, immediately!”
Her husband’s breath was on the verge of failing. She could feel his desperate, urgent emotions.
Olentia knew better than anyone what was needed.
She abruptly removed his mask and pressed her lips against his, thinking that contact between the most sensitive skin—lips to lips—would calm his rampage.
The moment their lips met, his ragged breath poured into her. It was filled with every sorrow and regret imaginable. He probably didn’t want to rage like this either.
Before she knew it, he spoke desperately through their kiss.
“You’re the only one for me.”
Then came a deep, intense kiss. Their heads turned, and a mix of sweet and bitter feelings swirled together.
Her husband bit her lips, ransacking her mind. He longed, and longed, as if craving something. Olentia felt her consciousness slipping.
Then—
“Miss Olentia!”
A very familiar voice rang in her head. High-pitched, sharp, and clear. It was Bobby, her personal maid.
Suddenly, Olentia came to her senses. When she opened her eyes, she saw the white canopy above her swaying.
“Ah… it was a dream? I should’ve known.”
There was no way such a passionate, beautiful man existed in reality. In the dream, when she removed his mask, her husband’s face had been strikingly handsome. Moreover, she had holy power and was married to a rampaging husband—a very peculiar dream, indeed. No matter how she thought about it, it was just a silly dream.
“You’ve overslept, miss. Do you know what day it is today?”
Olentia immediately got up and focused.
“I’ve never forgotten today. I really think Socor needs to return the inheritance now.”
“It’s been three years since you became an adult, so of course you should get it back.”
“Exactly. He probably wants to hold onto it, thinking he’ll just give it with the dowry when I get married. But I have no intention of marrying right now.”
“Yes, yes. I know exactly how many suitors you’ve sent away every day.”
Olentia was very popular among men of marriageable age, but she was famous for turning down any man who came to propose.
She put her hand into the washbasin Bobby had brought and said sharply:
“There’s no suitable man. I don’t want to marry because of money or political reasons. I hope Socor wakes up and gets his act together.”
After washing her face clean, Olentia, with Bobby’s help, wore a dress her late mother, Marisa, had favored—a deep green satin gown, which didn’t quite match the youthful twenty-three-year-old Olentia. At least her identical figure to her mother spared her from looking ridiculous.
Olentia let her honey-colored platinum hair fall as neatly as possible and looked at herself in the mirror.
“Cousin Socor has acted as my guardian for quite some time, replacing my deceased parents. Now that I’m an adult, I want to be independent. I have to do this.”
She was suspicious of Socor’s motives for withholding the inheritance. Even if she wanted to trust him, she couldn’t trust Countess Kicozelia, who always stood by his side.
Steeling her resolve, Olentia headed to the grand council hall of the count’s mansion, where the elders’ meeting was in progress. Her steps faltered slightly on the carpet. She swallowed hard in her mind.
“Don’t be nervous. I am the rightful heir of the Armeniaca count family.”
Soldiers guarded the hall entrance.
“Move.”
Olentia’s firm command made the soldiers exchange uncertain glances.
“Miss Olentia, this is an important meeting…”
One soldier nervously spoke. Olentia widened her eyes.
“Isn’t it wrong that I can’t join the meeting with the head of the house and the elders? Isn’t it?”
Her clear, commanding voice reminded everyone of her mother, Marisa. The soldiers could not oppose Olentia, dressed in her late mother’s respected gown.
Eventually, the soldiers opened the hall doors themselves.
Immediately, the voices of Socor, the head of the house, and the elders fell silent. Socor stared at Olentia with his sharp eyes. His hair, slicked back without a single stray strand, and his neat black three-piece suit, made him look intimidating.
Olentia walked boldly toward her seemingly impenetrable cousin.
Clack, clack!
As her velvet shoes reached Socor, he scolded her first.
“What are you doing in the middle of an important meeting, Olentia?”
Ignoring him, she said firmly:
“I’m talking about my inheritance. Are you really planning to return it?”
The elders’ eyes widened as they took in the situation. Olentia had been waiting for this day, hoping that public embarrassment would make Socor think straight. She wanted to show them:
“I am the true head of the Armeniaca count family, brother. You can’t exclude me like this.”
Finally realizing why she had intruded, Socor let out a hollow laugh, hand on his waist, tilting his head back. Olentia shivered at the monstrous sight.
“Haha! You said you’d return it when I married. What’s the point of forcing me to say it here?”
“Think about it. You’re making me do this because you haven’t returned the money, right? The elders should know what you’re doing with Mom and Dad’s inheritance.”
Her words changed Socor’s expression instantly. He glanced around before putting on a calm face.
“Father’s business is being carried on faithfully. You know profits have doubled.”
“But you still won’t tell me how the original funds were used. Why not?”
It was true—the profits had doubled. Their father had long seen Socor’s business aptitude and chosen him as heir. Olentia just wanted to know how the funds had been managed.
Socor never called his father “uncle” after becoming count. A truly cold attitude.
Olentia never imagined her cousin Socor could be this cold, calculating, and even selfish. He had been kind and gentle in the past. She even wondered if he had been acting to maintain his position as heir all along.
Olentia and Socor’s heated exchange left the elders pale. They couldn’t take sides. Olentia symbolized the Armeniaca count family, yet Socor was the de facto head.
After a while, Socor stood and picked up a thick file from the long table.
“We’ll end today’s meeting here. A child who knows nothing has ruined it.”
“What child? I’ve been an adult for three years! Only you treat me like a child!”
Olentia shouted behind Socor as he left. He paused in the hallway and turned to her.
“I’ll return it when you marry a suitable man. Right now, I can’t judge if you can handle that much money.”
An absurd excuse. Olentia was already an adult, capable of planning.
“You’re always so selfish. You said it was to protect me, but even you must think that’s ridiculous, right?”
Olentia sneered. Socor probably just wanted to keep the marriage topic hanging because he knew she wouldn’t marry easily.
If marriage was the only solution, what could she do? Olentia pondered deeply. She even remembered the ridiculous dream from that morning. The husband in her dream was beautiful but his rampage was a problem.
Even in a dream, things were problematic.
“I don’t even have a man to marry. What marriage?”
No matter how she reasoned, marriage was impossible at the moment.
The next morning
Olentia went to Shine Street to meet Yulsa secretly, without Socor knowing. She didn’t take a guard, only her personal maid Bobby, stepping out lightly for the first time in her life.
“Miss, isn’t this dangerous?”
Bobby’s worried voice didn’t faze Olentia. She had held back to avoid family conflict, but now she was determined to act.
“Socor thinks I lacked courage and couldn’t even become Yulsa senior… But that’s wrong.”
Socor probably thought Olentia hadn’t dared act. She had only trusted him and waited for him to return the inheritance.
But Socor was just a hypocrite.
“I can’t hold back any longer.”
