Chatper 94
Chapter 94
“Are you in love with me?”
This sudden query left Violet choking on her saliva, too taken aback to reply.
Lucius, observing her face redden from the choking, approached to pat her back. His approach was
anything but gentle, rather rough, making her cough to near suffocation.
“Lucius, please don’t make such jokes again.”
Once she regained her breath, she spoke in a raspy voice, swiftly bypassing him..
Lucius watched her leave, his once–bright eyes gradually losing their luster.
Violet walked a considerable distance before she stopped, clutching her chest, her heart pounding
furiously.
Why this intense reaction? It was just Lucius asking about her feelings.
She had no feelings for him. After all his cold–hearted actions and his playboy nature, she surely
couldn’t.
Was that so? Was that the complete truth? Or did she? She found herself unable to decipher her
own feelings.
Violet returned late, hesitating briefly outside Lucius’s room before heading to her own.
She couldn’t allow herself to fall in love with Lucius.NôvelDrama.Org owns © this.
The dawn at the Imperial Palace came unusually early, with the sky brightening well before five.
Clouds amassed, enhancing the beauty of the scenery below.
Lucius, clad in a simple outfit, stood on the balcony of the second floor, his clothes billowing in the
wind, an image of effortless grace.
He lit up a cigarette, the smoke dispersing far into the air.
“Why are you smoking, Master Lucius?”
Lucius, not usually fond of smoking or drinking, rarely touched cigarettes.
Without turning around, Lucius asked, a little bitterly. “George, is this really okay? To keep her here, to
make her continue to be the despised Agatha?”
“Has Master Lucius truly developed feelings for Ms. Agatha?” George asked, his face filled with
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Lucius replied with a nonchalant smile, “Have you forgotten? I’m Incapable of loving anyone again.
“But…”
“There are no buts,”
He discarded the cigarette, crushing it beneath his shoe, and turned around to see Violet standing
silently behind George.
She had come down for a drink due to thirst, not anticipating encountering them or overhearing their
conversation.
“What are you discussing? What does that mean?”
Her eyes trembled as she glanced at Lucius for a moment before she asked.
Lucius remained motionless, his usually proud gaze now fixed on the floor.
Continuing to make her live as the despised Agatha, the implication of his words was apparent.
“You know I’m not Agatha, don’t you?” she pressed, her voice shaking.
“Ms. Agatha,” George interjected gently.
Violet’s eyes, brimming with tears, were locked on Lucius.
“Lucius, is it true?” she implored for confirmation.
All she wanted was for Lucius to tell her the truth.
Lucius finally responded faintly, “Yes.”
Her tears flowed upon hearing his admission.
“Why stay silent, knowing I’m not Agatha? Why?”
George attempted to intercede, “Ms. Agatha… Master Lucius only recently discovered this.”
Lucius interrupted him, stating, “Since you’re Violet, you’re now free.”
His statement of her freedom puzzled her, but before she could seek an explanation, Lucius swiftly
exited.
Violet stood there, not pursuing him, with tears streaming down her face and a sense of injustice
overwhelming her.
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He had simply released her with the words “You’re free.” despite the pain she had suffered.
Wasn’t freedom her ultimate desire? Then why did it hurt so much?
She spent the entire day in her room, neither eating nor going out.
George had a servant bring her food, but she sent it back untouched.
Concerned. George accroached Lucius. “Ms. Violet is in a bad state. Master Lucius. Please visit
her.”
Lucius discarded another cigarette butt. The ground was strewn with several others, reflecting his
heavy consumption and the bitterness it left in his mouth.
Observing the discarded butts, George felt troubled. Lucius, usually so confident and vibrant, was
now deeply troubled because of Violet
As Lucius took a step. George followed and asked. “Master Lucius, what are you going to do with
Ms. Violet?”
Lucius momentarily hesitated in his stride but remained silent.
Approaching Violet’s room, he gently pushed the door open.
Inside, Violet sat by the bay window. Her slender form appeared lonely, her eyes fixed on the
horizon; it was unclear how long she had kept that pose.
He walked towards her, the soft click of his leather shoes on the floor breaking the silence.
Violet, startled by the sound, turned around, her tear–stained eyes meeting Lucius’s.
A pang of pain struck his heart.
As he entered, she instinctively shrank back, signaling her wariness.
Lucius refrained from getting closer, instead opting for a chair opposite her and taking a seat.