I-Isolde . . .
Isolde glanced out of her window, a peculiar feeling washing over her as if someone had just called her name. Was she imagining things?
She shook her head, trying to dispel the odd sensation. But deep down, she was certain she had heard Leonel's voice just now.
Frowning, Isolde grabbed her cheeks, feeling the heat rise to her face. Even when awake, she seemed to hear Leonel's voice as if he were right beside her.
"That can't be," Isolde muttered to herself, trying to compose her raging heart.
She must be imagining things.
Returning to her room, Isolde directed the maid to clean every corner meticulously while she prepared to meet Leonel.
Donning a simple shirt and pants, she added a touch of makeup, unable to resist checking her appearance in front of the mirror again and again.
