Chapter 890

Ever since their uneasy truce, Rosalind had deliberately avoided private conversations with Genevieve.

Genevieve's lips curled into a calculated smile. "How perceptive—I came specifically to see you. Lucian's scars have healed beautifully, and we're officially together now."

Together?

Though Rosalind had anticipated this outcome, the confirmation still felt like a dagger twisting in her chest.

The pain was excruciating.

Genevieve continued, her voice dripping with false sweetness, "We're blissfully happy. Marriage is the natural next step. I'm certain you'll wish us well, won't you?"

Marriage?

This was moving at lightning speed.

Rosalind's fingers clenched into fists, her nails biting into her palms. She barely registered the physical pain. If not for that fateful accident... she and Lucian might have already exchanged vows by now.

Instead, he was pledging his life to Genevieve.

Rosalind met Genevieve's gaze head-on.

"Do you genuinely believe I'd bless your union?" She stepped forward, her voice low and dangerous. "We both know the truth behind your little schemes to ensnare Lucian. Drop the act—I have no interest in your performances."

Without waiting for a response, Rosalind turned on her heel and strode away.

Behind her, Genevieve's lips twisted into a venomous smirk of triumph.

As Rosalind entered the corridor, another familiar figure materialized—Reginald.

What cruel twist of fate kept throwing these people in her path today?

Reginald's eyes locked onto hers. "Rosalind."

She met his gaze coolly. "Speak your piece quickly. We have nothing to reminisce about."

"Straightforward as ever," he remarked. "Then I'll be blunt. I never approved of you. Turns out my instincts were right—you're utterly unworthy of Lucian. You exploited him during your family's crisis, then discarded him when his face became... inconvenient. If not for Genevieve risking her life for that Frostbloom, he'd still be disfigured. You betrayed him repeatedly. You were never his equal."

A bitter laugh threatened to escape Rosalind's throat. Did these fools truly believe Genevieve's fabricated heroics? Had any of them glimpsed the viper beneath her saintly facade?

The irony was almost comical.

"Finished?" Rosalind asked flatly. "Then I'll take my leave."

Reginald called after her, "Just stay away from Lucian. Let him and Genevieve build their future in peace."

Rosalind froze, then slowly turned. Her eyes burned with icy clarity.

"If that's your concern, rest assured—I have zero interest in chasing after Lucian Graves. I sincerely hope their marriage is filled with joy and their nursery overflows with children. Satisfied?"

At that moment, Reginald's gaze shifted past her shoulder. "Ah, Lucian."

Rosalind's blood turned to ice.

She turned mechanically to find Lucian silhouetted against the hallway lights.

There was no telling how long he'd been standing there, but his expression confirmed he'd heard every damning word—especially her sarcastic blessing of his impending nuptials.

The air between them crystallized.

Lucian's piercing gaze locked onto hers, so frigid it stole her breath. Even across the distance, she could feel the glacial fury radiating from him.