Finally Got a Sword

The next morning, Marcus woke up with a headache. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, he glanced to his side and saw Alice, still asleep. It was unusual for her. Typically, Alice would be up and ready before him, always attentive to his needs.

But he knew how little sleep she'd gotten over the past few days during there travel. He decided not to disturb her, letting her rest as long as she needed.

His thoughts drifted back to the vivid dream that had haunted him the night before. The images were still fresh in his mind—Leo standing above him, beating him mercilessly, while he knelt in submission. The feeling of powerlessness washed over him again, and he clenched his fists tightly, gritting his teeth.

It had been just a dream, yet it felt too real, too visceral. His chest tightened as he remembered the look on Charlotte's butler's face—cold, mocking, as if he was nothing. The rage that bubbled up from deep inside Marcus was overwhelming.