If Love Comes, You Happen to Love Me

As soon as I spoke, a figure slowly emerged from the shadows. I looked up and froze for a moment when I recognized his face.

Dressed in black and wearing a mask, he was indeed a strange character.

"You have keen eyes, my lady," he complimented me, yet there was not a hint of warmth in his gaze.

As he stepped closer, I felt an odd familiarity in those eyes, but I couldn't place them right away, so I dismissed the thought.

I pushed the cell door open, stepping inside without a backward glance. "Do as you wish, sir."

I assumed he was another investigator, but my instincts told me something was off.

"…"

From the darkness, I heard a soft chuckle. "You wouldn't want to see me, would you?"

His words puzzled me. I believed we had never met, and I bore him no ill will. Why was there this sense of hostility?

I ignored him and continued my search for clues. My father had always taught me that in desperate situations, there are usually signs left behind.

The key to rising from despair was to have the means to do so.

Lost in thought, I assumed he had left, but to my surprise, he simply leaned against the door frame, lazily casting his gaze over me. "This is where your father was held, I take it? You must be the daughter of Sir Leigh."

I didn't respond.

"From your age, I can see that you're indeed his daughter. But you're wasting your time here. The one who caused his downfall is a powerful official in the current court. You simply don't have the strength to stand against him. However, with a duke at your side, your chances might improve."

At the mention of a duke, I felt a jolt of anxiety. I spun around to meet his nonchalant gaze, my voice turning cold. "What do you mean by that?"

How could he possibly know I had the support of a duke?!

My nerves were frayed, yet he remained utterly unconcerned.

His charming eyes glided over me, and he added meaningfully, "Things that are taken will eventually be returned, don't you think?"

Taken?

My pupils dilated, and my heartbeat quickened. I fought to suppress the rising panic and managed a smile. "That's quite true, sir."

But had we really taken anything?

We had not intended for it to happen; it was merely a chance given to us by fate to defend ourselves.

Perhaps taken aback by my calmness, his expression soured, and without another word, he turned to leave.

Once his footsteps faded, I felt cold sweat pooling on my back.

To confuse royal bloodlines was a crime punishable by death.

I clenched my fists.

I couldn't let myself panic.

I meticulously searched the cell, and fortune smiled upon me. Near the wall, under some weeds, I found a wooden hairpin.

It was plain, crafted from mediocre wood, and the patterns etched into it looked like something a child might scribble.

But only I knew that this was a hairpin my father had carved for my mother years ago.

When I emerged, I saw Simon waiting at the door.

Noticing my unease, he immediately sensed that something was wrong and wasted no time with Lord Warrick's pleasantries, ushering me toward the carriage.

On the way back, his gaze swept over me, checking for any signs of injury, before he let out a relieved sigh.

It wasn't until we reached the manor and shut the door behind us that he spoke. "Eliza, what happened? You look pale. Should we call for a doctor?"

I grabbed his hand. "No need for that. It's just that we're in a rather precarious position."

I didn't know who that man in black was, but he clearly had insight. He had mentioned my father's enemies casually, suggesting that he held knowledge and status beyond mere speculation.

His words were perhaps a test, but they also cast doubt on whether Simon was genuinely a duke's heir.

What if others began to suspect the same?