Riven slowly opened his eyes, his eyelids heavy as if weighed down with lead. The first thing he saw was the sky, fractured into patches by a canopy of green, leaves swaying gently in the breeze. The rustling sound blended with the distant murmur of a river and the faint chirping of birds.

The midday air was warm, but the passing wind carried a hint of coolness. Cold sweat still clung to his skin, his shirt sticking damply to his back. He realized he was lying on the grass-covered ground, his body heavy, and his neck aching.

He groaned softly, raising a hand to rub the sore spot. Just minutes ago, he had been choked so hard that his consciousness had slipped away.

And the culprit…

Riven glanced to the side. Beneath the shadow of a large tree, a woman sat leaning against the trunk. Still. Like a living statue.

Her crimson hair fell in waves, catching the sunlight, swaying slightly whenever the wind passed through. Her face was cold, her gaze empty, fixed on the distance. No expression. No sign of life other than the slow, steady rhythm of her breath. As if her mind had drifted far away, trapped in a world only she could see.

Riven frowned. ‘Was she thinking about what happened last night?’

With some effort, he pushed himself upright. The pain in his neck made him curse under his breath.

“Damn it…” He turned toward the woman. “Do you always strangle the people who save your life?!”

His voice was sharp, full of annoyance, but the woman did not immediately reply.

Ashtoria turned her head slowly, as if weighing every movement. Her eyes remained flat. But there was something faint, something hidden. A shadow of pain. Not physical wounds, but something far deeper.

“No one has ever treated me kindly,” she whispered at last, her voice so soft it nearly vanished into the breeze. “Much less saved me. Everyone only ever wanted me dead.”

The words struck Riven strangely.

His anger, burning just moments ago, faded away in an instant—snuffed out, leaving behind confusion, surprise, and perhaps… pity. Her voice had been too raw, too bitter, to dismiss as an excuse. It carried the weight of someone betrayed too many times, abandoned too many times.

For a brief moment, Riven remembered the scars on her back. Old wounds—whether from whips or blades, he could not tell. But enough to make him realize that this woman’s life had been far from easy.

Ashtoria spoke again, this time turning fully toward him.

“So… you truly don’t recognize me?”

Riven scoffed, clicking his tongue. “Am I supposed to? I don’t even know your name. That’s exactly what I was going to ask. Are you someone important or what? And… who was that man chasing you last night like a mad dog?”

Ashtoria did not answer right away. She only stared at him for a long moment before murmuring to herself, “I see… now it all makes sense.”

Riven scowled. “Makes sense? What the hell does? Hey, you still haven’t answered me. Who are you really?”

For the first time, her gaze shifted. No longer as sharp as a blade, but tinged with hesitation, with curiosity. She realized something crucial: this man truly did not know who she was. He did not know that throughout the kingdom, her name was whispered in fear. That she was the so-called “Mad Queen” a figure accused of bloodlust, cruelty, and hated by all.

“My name… is Aria,” she said calmly, like an actress slipping into a new role. For some reason, she wanted to see how he would view her if he knew nothing of her past. “I’m a noblewoman from Westford.”

“Aria, huh?” Riven repeated, still unconvinced. “A… noble?”

Riven had no time to probe further before she suddenly pressed him in return.

Her gaze was piercing, her tone firm.

“Now it’s your turn. Who are you really? Why did you save me? What are your intentions?”

Riven sighed, his shoulders lifting as if tired of the interrogation.

“Me? Just a poor man. I make a living scavenging weapons off battlefields. But honestly, I was about to quit. I’ve had enough.”

Ashtoria studied him closely.

“That is a dishonorable trade. If you were caught, you could be hanged. It is an insult to the knights who fell in battle.”

Riven smirked wryly.

“Honor doesn’t fill an empty stomach. I just need money so my sister and I can eat. Live a normal life, that’s all.”

Aria fell silent.

Something stirred faintly in her chest. His words were so simple, so unpretentious. No fear in speaking to her, no false politeness like the nobles she had always dealt with. And for the first time, inexplicably, she felt… unsettled.

‘Was he truly honest when he praised me just now?’ she wondered. ‘Is he really not afraid of me?’

The memory of Riven showering her with compliments returned vividly, making her face warm again for a brief moment. Never in her life had anyone spoken to her like that.

She bit her lip, quickly pushing the thought aside.

“What is your name?” she asked flatly, as if it were just a casual question.

Riven, leaning back against the tree trunk, turned his head quickly.

“Me?”

“Yes,” Ashtoria replied, staring directly at him. “Your name.”

Riven nodded slightly before answering in a calm tone.

“Riven.”

The name echoed briefly in Ashtoria’s mind. Riven…

Silence fell once more. Only the sound of wind rustling through leaves filled the air.

Riven exhaled deeply, then looked at her again.

“So… what are you going to do now?”

Ashtoria turned her head slowly. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you said you’re a noblewoman from Westford. So are you planning to go back there? See your family?”

The question hung heavily between them.

Ashtoria stared ahead for a long time before finally answering softly,

“My family… is already dead.”

Riven froze. Guilt immediately clouded his face.

“I’m sorry. I… I didn’t know.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Aria replied flatly. But her next words sent a chill down Riven’s spine.

“There is no one in that city I can trust.”

Her eyes sharpened, carrying an old fury that clearly had not faded.

Riven met her eyes, trying bit by bit to understand the weight behind that beautiful yet unyielding face. “Are they still after you? Those people?” he asked carefully.

Ashtoria answered. “Yes.”

“You’re certain?”

Ashtoria shifted her gaze, her crimson eyes glinting under the sunlight.

“Absolutely certain.”

Riven lowered his head, exhaling a heavy sigh.

‘Gods… what have I dragged into my life?’

His eyes fell on the sword lying on the ground, before returning to her. For a moment, he almost regretted saving her. But when he saw the emptiness in her eyes, Riven could only let out a sigh.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep