When fate plays its hand

Aurora’s death brought Carissa no solace–not even a sliver of comfort.

That night, Carissa lay in bed. Her eyes were closed, her breathing slow and steady, giving the impression of deep sleep. In truth, she wasn’t asleep at all.

Scenes from the past played vividly in her mind, frame by frame, like butterflies flitting in a canyon, always just out of reach. She tried to hold onto something–anything–but her. grasp remained empty.

It was nearly dawn when she finally drifted off, her exhaustion overwhelming her restless thoughts.

Rafael opened his eyes. He hadn’t been sleeping, either. He could tell Carissa wasn’t truly asleep. A sleeping person’s body relaxed completely, but hers remained taut, indicated she was only pretending to sleep.

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However, she was genuinely asleep now.

His heart ached. Since their marriage, their relationship had been harmonious–even loving. But Rafael knew Carissa had always kept her heart locked away. She would talk to him about anything else: political matters, even the weighty affairs of their nation.

Yet when it came to her feelings and emotions, she buried them deep within.

She buried her wounds beneath a facade of composure, refusing to let herself experience joy. It was as though she believed she no longer deserved it.

No matter how bright her smile appeared, there was always a shadow in her eyes–a profound sadness she couldn’t shake. That sorrow made her remarkably self–aware, but it also kept her tethered to her pain.

She had once been a lively young woman, like a wildflower blooming freely in the mountains, embracing life with the most unrestrained attitude. Now, even the curve of her smile seemed measured..

Rafael longed for her to open up to him, to share her burdens. He wished she could let herself cry, like the moment she had collapsed into his arms after reading her uncle’s letter. He had thought she might finally speak her mind then, but she had remained silent.

Quietly, he reached for her hand, his long fingers closing gently around hers. Her small hand fit entirely within his

grasp.

She didn’t wake, only sank deeper into sleep. Even in sleep, her dreams were haunted- filled with bloodshed and violence.

Carissa was skilled at hiding her emotions, so much so that she avoided thinking of the past altogether. But when she did, it always brought the same nightmare: the brutal

massacre of the Sinclair family.

She hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, but the gruesome state of her family’s corpses was enough to piece it together.

In her dream, she saw her mom drenched in blood, crawling across the ground. One ear had been severed, and her eyes were red with blood as she dragged herself toward Carissa. A blade sliced into her back–one stroke, then another–blood splattering everywhere.

Carissa watched, her eyes wide with horror. Gripping her Rose Spear, she charged forward. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t land a blow on the murderer. It was as though an invisible wall separated her from him, keeping her from avenging her family.

This was more than the barrier between dreams and reality–it was the chasm between life and death.

She hadn’t even been able to face her enemies, let alone exact her revenge.

In her nightmare, she screamed, her voice raw with rage.

To hell with the greater good! She would kill every one of those murderers for her family. She wanted to hack Aurora into pieces and toss her remains to the wild dogs.

One by one, her mom, her sisters–in–law, her nephews, her nieces–they all fell to the ground, their blood pooling around them. She smashed into the barrier with her spear until her head throbbed and her hands bled, but she couldn’t break through. She could only stand there, helpless, as they took their last breaths before her eyes.

She hated it. She hated it so much!

“Carissa! Carissa!”

Rafael’s voice broke through the nightmare, his hands gently patting her face.

She jolted awake, her eyes snapping open. Her hand flew to his throat, her body radiating a deadly aura. As her vision cleared, it wasn’t an enemy she saw–it was Rafael, his face. etched with worry.

She froze, her hand slowly dropping as her expression shifted from confusion to regret.

“I’m sorry,” she rasped. “It was just a dream.

Her voice was hoarse, barely audible. Her face felt cold and damp. She raised a trembling hand to her cheek and realized it was soaked with tears.

Rafael pulled her into his arms, his voice gentle but firm. “It’s all right. It’s over now. It’s all over.”

Carissa took a few deep breaths, steadying herself. Wiping away her tears, she murmured, ” Don’t worry a me. And don’t tell Violet–I don’t want her to fret over me.”

Rafael’s heart clenched.

“You can talk to me,” he said softly. “You don’t have to keep everything bottled up inside. It’s not good for you–it’ll only hurt you more.”

Carissa offered a pale, fragile smile. “The revenge is done. I’m happy now. Truly. Don’t worry about me.

But Rafael saw through her words. She always acted this way, afraid to burden anyone else.

Sometimes, he couldn’t help feeling a pang of jealousy toward Violet and Travis. With them, Carissa let her guard down just a little more. She might still hide some things, but she shared more with them than she ever did with him.

After all, they had grown up together, and their bond was different.