Chapter 629
“Look, is that woman insane?” a man asked.
A woman replied, “Probably. Let’s hurry and get away from this crazy person!”
Their conversation reached Morwen’s ears. Filled with resentment, she pressed on her wound. She didn't believe Richard could continue with the wedding in such pain. Someone as perceptive as he would surely notice something was wrong. If he stepped outside the hotel to investigate, he would see her. Then, under the influence of the love poison, she was confident he would succumb.
Morwen was in so much pain she could barely speak, but her burning desire for revenge propelled her forward. Despite her efforts, the wedding march continued to echo from inside the hotel. This meant the wedding was proceeding without incident.
“What to do? What to do…” Morwen paced anxiously. She couldn't get through the door, meaning she couldn't ruin Tiffany's moment of triumph.
“Ugh!” Morwen stamped her foot in frustration, her face contorted with indignation.
At that moment, a gust of wind swept from behind her, accompanied by a faint voice. “Is that all you can do, Miss Xanthus?” Hearing the familiar voice, Morwen stiffened. Turning, she saw a stunningly handsome young man.
Sporting short golden hair, the young man possessed irresistibly attractive features and deep-set eyes that were both gentle and dangerous. His lips curled into a smile that seemed cold and menacing.
Morwen shuddered and cautiously asked, “Y-you… what are you doing here?”
“If I didn’t come, how would I know the dignified saintess is so useless?” The young man smiled faintly, his words cutting. “If I’d known you were so pathetic, I wouldn’t have saved you.”
Morwen remained silent. Tiffany’s relentless questioning had nearly driven her to jump from the castle. To save herself, she'd almost revealed the king's poisoner, a move that could have cost her life. She was glad she'd been quick-witted, jumping first to demonstrate loyalty before the ruthless young man could silence her. Fortunately, her gamble had paid off; as she fell, he'd saved her, giving her a second chance.
Morwen was covered in cold sweat. She forced a change of subject. “I can’t get in, so I have to…”
“Ah!”
Before she could finish, the young man's aura enveloped her. She felt her body lighten, and before she could react, she was airborne. The sensation of weightlessness and the young man's words prevented her from screaming.
“Miss Xanthus, I’ll help you get in. You’d better succeed. If you don’t meet my expectations, your existence will be worthless, understand?” he said. Though he addressed her as “Miss Xanthus,” his tone was laced with mockery and threat.
Morwen nodded nervously. “I-I understand.” The young man knew too many of her secrets. Failure meant silence or abandonment was only a matter of time.
Inside the hotel, John deployed several men to patrol the area. Security was tight. No one without an invitation could enter; even invited guests underwent double verification. With such stringent measures, nothing could go wrong, he thought.
John looked around, nodding in satisfaction. Everyone’s attention was focused on the ground level; no one noticed a dark shadow streaking across the sky—too fast to detect—before landing on the hotel rooftop.
In the distance, a passerby glimpsed it. He rubbed his eyes, muttering, “What was that? A bird? A flying creature? Or have I been staring at fireworks too long?” When he looked again, it was gone. “It must be an illusion,” he muttered, continuing on his way.
On the rooftop, Morwen was set down. The young man vanished in a flash of shadow. Morwen knew she was on her own. Taking a deep breath, she descended from the rooftop.
The hotel’s security was tight, with surveillance cameras everywhere. To avoid detection, Morwen kept her head down. Fortunately, the ballroom was on the top floor; she only needed to descend one flight of stairs to a huge door.
The wedding venue was decorated like a luxurious, dazzling palace. Under the spotlight, Tiffany smiled softly as Richard kissed her cheek. Envious murmurs filled the room.
From a distance, Morwen’s eyes blazed with fury. ‘All of this should have been mine! Why Tiffany?’ Morwen stormed into the ballroom.
Attendants exchanged confused glances as she barged in, but no one stopped her. With tight security outside, anyone inside was assumed to be a guest. Since all attendees were prominent figures, the staff wouldn't interfere.
Morwen reached the hall. She shouted, “Richard!” The music drowned her out. Moving closer, she shouted again, “Richard!”
Just then, the music paused. Her voice rang out, silencing the crowd. Everyone turned to look.
Morwen gazed at Richard with affected affection. Her voice was sweet and coy, artificially delicate. “Richard, are you really going to marry this woman?” she asked, pointing at Tiffany.
An uninformed observer would assume Morwen had been abandoned, with Tiffany as the interloper.
Richard frowned, disgust evident. A cold aura radiated from him. The warmth in his eyes was gone, replaced by indifference, revulsion, and murderous intent.
Richard’s lips parted. He uttered one word coldly: “Leave.”
“Richard…” Morwen sobbed, her voice trembling. “How can you be so heartless? I’ve come all this way for you. How could you tell me to leave?”