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Aideen Ruan, though a royal princess, was always unwanted due to the circumstances of her birth. Born blind to a hostage concubine, she possessed an intriguing beauty; however, her disability rendered her utterly useless to the royal family.

Even when the struggling Count Crueder reluctantly agreed to take Aideen as his wife to secure the royal dowry, her life failed to improve. A year into their marriage, Aideen's inability to produce an heir sealed her fate. The princess was destined for exile to the Temple, consigned to spend the remainder of her days in isolation and abandonment.

Contrary to her anticipations, instead of the Temple, Aideen found herself within the cold walls of Duke Tillian Valentine's castle. Duke Valentine, the last scion of the once-revered Valentine family that ruled the Kingdom before the "Fratricide Rebellion", now presided over the desolate Northern lands.

Faced with fear and confusion, Aideen expected her life to perpetuate its cycle of misery, only to discover that Duke Valentine might hold the key to a new opportunity, a chance at a life she had never envisioned.

"You bewitched my body and soul. Put an intoxicating spell on me, shackled my heart to yours with your magic. If I could exchange my eyesight with you, I would do it just to make you see what a man dying from love looks like."

Saved By The Mad Duke

Ahspid settled into a chair positioned behind a small, round wooden table, its surface painted a deep, matte black. He then lowered the hood of his cloak, revealing his features to the dim light of the witch's cabin. He still hesitated to fully shed the cloak, knowing the biting cold outside mirrored the frigid atmosphere indoors.

Surveying the interior of Bjarna's secluded house, a structure she had meticulously crafted over years of solitary existence, Ahspid could not suppress a pang of nostalgia.

'Even during her days in the Capital, her dwelling bore this same familiar semblance. She does not like change. It is as if she's woven from the very fabric of resistance, an unyielding force tethered to her essence.'

The witch's cabin, though small, exuded an atmosphere far from cozy. Enveloped in ominous darkness and haunted by the chilling howls of drafts, it remained a place miles away from comfort.

You Should Never Trust A Witch