"You should have just stayed within the dirty grounds, peasant." Those were the words the young lady Katarina Felline Turner had uttered to me when she visited once by the prison. "William does not deserve you, you lowly poor thing."
And indeed, he did not deserve me.
"He deserves only the best woman in town that could offer him more than a pretty face. I am that woman. And you," she had scoffed, "you are nothing but dirt."
And by his choices, neither did I deserve him.
Bash turned over to his side, grunting in his sleep, and I was whisked back to reality with the rustle that his bedsheets made.
As I gazed at his face, I was reminded with how much I wanted to tear him apart bit by bit just as how his past self had done to me.
But the powerful beings that brought me here in this lifetime kept on subtly insisting he was innocent. And I couldn't accept it no matter how much I try to understand.
