Love Came Too Late

Everyone says the heir of the capital's most powerful family has tortured me a thousand times over, yet I still treat him like my first love.

I just smile and let them talk.

The day he found out he was a substitute, he held a knife to his own face, eyes bloodshot as he demanded, "Do you want this face, or do you want me?"

I smiled gently. "Good boy, put the knife down."

I laughed to myself: how could a living man ever compete with someone who was dead?