"But why exactly were you so curious about that matter?" Damian asked, shifting his posture to lean back against the edge of his mahogany desk, his eyes fixed intently on her.
"The son of the merchant... He was always quite kind to me," Eilika replied softly, her gaze dropping to the floor for a brief moment.
"What?" Damian knitted his brows together, a sudden tension tightening in his chest.
"He was the exact same age as me. I must say, he was one of the very few people back then who never humiliated or judged me for bearing this scar on my cheek," she asserted, lightly touching her face. "I was only eighteen at the time. When the news broke, it was absolutely devastating. I couldn't bring myself to eat for two whole days. The news deeply troubled me."
