And Griffith did not push her away.
Instead, he flicked his gaze toward me before lightly shoving Giselle aside, not with anger, but with familiarity. As if to chastise her, his hand lingered on her bottom, giving it a squeeze.
The two of them had been entangled all along.
The realization struck like a knife to the gut, and I laughed at my own foolishness.
Feigning exhaustion, I told them I would retire to my room. Instead, I slipped into the corridor and activated the spell my father had once taught me—a sight spell. A scrying crystal bloomed in my palm, revealing the greenhouse beyond.
I had used this spell to spy on enemies before. Now, I was using it to confirm my own lover’s betrayal.
The moment I left, Griffith shoved Giselle onto a table, his voice low and seething. “Haven’t I told you to restrain yourself in front of Ellia?”
Giselle only giggled as she tugged at the buttons of his shirt. “I missed you,” she murmured. “You’ve been spending so many nights with her.”
She exhaled against his ear, but her gaze drifted toward me—as if she knew I was watching.
“Sir,” she whispered, “isn’t this place special? You built this greenhouse just for your wife. Every flower here is one she adores. Doesn’t it make things more… thrilling?”
With that, she pulled apart her dress, revealing the delicate lace beneath.
Griffith’s eyes darkened. The hunger in them swallowed him whole. He kissed her with an urgency I had once believed was meant only for me.
I listened as their breaths tangled, as the room filled with sounds of longing, of betrayal. My own breath grew ragged. A cold sweat broke over my skin. Pain, sharp and relentless, skewered my heart.
This man—this man who had sworn he would love only me, who had vowed he would never betray me—was now devouring another woman in the space he had built for me.
The truth was undeniable. Griffith had betrayed me.
My knees buckled beneath the weight of it all. I clung to the wall, refusing to confront them in my broken state. My pride would not allow it.
When Griffith finally left, Giselle did not. Instead, she stepped toward the corner where I hid.
Towering above me, she looked down with a quiet, triumphant smile.
“Luna,” she said, “you saw everything, didn’t you? So what if you were his childhood love? So what if you come from noble blood? The one he loves now is me. And,” she paused, savoring the moment, “I am already carrying his child.”
