After six years of war, my fiancé finally came back—but he wasn’t alone. He returned with another woman and their child, claiming he couldn’t abandon them. The same reckless man who had once forced the responsibilities of a duchess onto me now had the nerve to say, *”Leila, you’re not the duchess yet.”*
That was the last straw. I ended our engagement right then and there.
Later, in a moment of uncertainty, I found myself asking, *”How far can I go?”* The silence that followed made me realize how odd the question sounded, and I quickly tried to backtrack. *”I’m sorry, Your Majesty. That wasn’t what I meant to—”*
But Kalian cut me off, his tone calm, almost amused. *”Anything,”* he said. *”As long as you’re not selling the kingdom, you can do whatever you want. After all, you’re my agent now.”*
And with that, I made a promise to myself—never to pick up the trash I’d already thrown away.
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