Chapter 18: The Tear of the Moon

"Me??"

Alia jolted out of the intimate atmosphere that had enveloped her, her mind suddenly filled with a cacophony of question marks. She stared at Marcellus, dumbfounded, and instinctively repeated his words, hoping she had misheard.

As a former thief in her past life, Alia was no stranger to lavish balls. In fact, she had perfected the art of maneuvering through them, making a clean getaway with her spoils. The elegant music, dazzling lights, and the chatter of the wealthy had always been her workplace. But planning a ball? That was a completely different story!

She tried to mask her panic, pressing her lips together and speaking in the calmest voice she could muster.

"Marcellus, are you sure you want me to handle this? I… might not be as skilled as you think."

Marcellus, however, seemed unperturbed. He smiled faintly, clearly oblivious to her internal turmoil.

"My dear, don't worry. This isn't your first ball—you've done wonderfully before. You'll do so again. I believe in you."

"Before…"

Alia's heart sank as she forced herself not to let her expression betray her unease. This so-called "before" clearly referred to Livia's memories, not her own. The realization brought a wave of helplessness, but she knew she had no choice but to go along.

"Alright," she replied with forced resolve, "I'll do my best."

Even as the words left her lips, her mind was racing. Where do I even start to make this ball look convincing? She sighed internally, aware that organizing a high-class ball was akin to spinning an elaborate web of lies—a challenge far removed from her usual skills. Yet, she couldn't afford to let this opportunity slip by.

More importantly, the ball might be the perfect chance to uncover new leads. It would bring together influential figures from across the city, including, potentially, the elusive "father" she had never met. Among them could lie the key to unraveling the mysteries surrounding Marcellus, or even the Holy Grail.

Marcellus, meanwhile, was observing her pensive expression with amusement. His lips curled into a meaningful smile as he leaned closer to her, his voice low and teasing.

"My dear, you mustn't be so adorable. I fear our little agreement may not restrain me much longer."

Alia blinked, utterly baffled, and stared at him with wide, confused eyes, as if completely missing his meaning.

Her clueless reaction drew a hearty laugh from Marcellus, who reached out to tousle her hair.

"Alright, I won't tease you anymore. Don't worry—I know the idea of organizing a ball feels daunting, especially with your 'amnesia.' But you won't have to handle it alone. You've never done it solo before, either."

He sat back, crossing his legs leisurely as he continued.

"You'll have Elise and Lianna to help—they're quite experienced. All you need to do is oversee them. If you run into any trouble, just come to me."

Alia heaved a sigh of relief, though her cheeks puffed slightly as she glared at him, clearly displeased. It was obvious he had been toying with her earlier, just to see her flustered.

Marcellus chuckled at her reaction but quickly adopted a more earnest expression, raising his hands in mock surrender.

"Don't be mad, Livia! I just thought the castle's been a bit dreary and oppressive lately, and I wanted to lighten the mood. Seeing you like this… I realized it's been far too long since I've seen you so… adorably yourself."

Alia rolled her eyes but said nothing, clearly unimpressed. Marcellus, however, seized the moment. Standing, he moved toward a bookshelf, speaking as he went.

"Regardless, we're husband and wife, and we should face everything together. You've worked hard to recover these past weeks, and I've been thinking about how to make it up to you. Recently, while out, I came across something at an auction. The moment I saw it, I knew I had to get it for you."

He retrieved a long, ornate wooden box and turned back toward her, placing it gently in front of her.

"Go on—open it. I think you'll like it."

Alia glanced at him warily before slowly lifting the lid. The moment it opened, a brilliant light burst forth, almost dazzling her.

Inside lay a necklace so exquisite it was impossible to look away. The chain, crafted from countless tiny diamonds, shimmered like a flowing river of stars. At its center hung a teardrop-shaped gem, as pure and radiant as moonlight, its facets refracting a kaleidoscope of colors with every movement. The intricate design was a masterpiece, showcasing the unparalleled skill of a master jeweler. Even Alia, who had seen her fair share of treasures as a thief, found herself momentarily awestruck.

"This is…" She reached out hesitantly, her fingers brushing the central gem. Its weight told her all she needed to know—this was a priceless artifact.

"This is the Tear of the Moon," Marcellus explained, his gaze soft as he watched her reaction. "I won it with the highest bid at the auction. According to the auctioneer, it symbolizes eternal love. Perhaps… it can mark a new beginning for us."

Alia looked up at him, her emotions a tangled web of complexity. For a moment, she couldn't tell if his affection was genuine or merely part of a larger scheme.

Though Alia had never been a noble lady in her past life, her keen eye as a top-tier thief told her everything she needed to know. The necklace wasn't just a rare treasure—it was likely a custom creation by a world-renowned jeweler. Its design was entirely unique, the kind of piece that would fetch astronomical sums at auction.

While she marveled at Marcellus's extravagant gesture, he had already moved behind her. His voice, soft and warm, broke through her thoughts.

"Let me help you put it on."

Before she could protest, his hands gently brushed her hair aside, exposing the graceful curve of her neck. With meticulous care, he fastened the necklace around her.

As the clasp clicked into place, the teardrop gem settled just above her collarbone, its brilliance accentuating her every breath. Alia instinctively raised a hand to touch it, silently marveling at how it seemed to shine even brighter against her skin.

"It suits you perfectly," Marcellus murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction.

Alia turned slightly, about to speak, when she felt him lower his head and press a gentle kiss to the side of her neck.

The touch of his lips, warm and lingering, sent a jolt through her body. She froze, acutely aware of the heat of his breath and the intimacy of his proximity, as if he were silently claiming her as his.

"I told you," Marcellus's voice, low and magnetic, seemed to caress her ear, "no matter what happened in the past, I will make you fall in love with me again."