She Flees With Their Child, and the Cold Prince Falls to His Knees, Eyes Red

The night the prince personally forced me to drink an abortion potion, I smiled as I swallowed the ashes of our divorce papers.

Five years later, I became the richest person in the Southern Border, strolling beneath the lanterns with a son who looked just like him.

He stopped us in the road, his eyes red: “Who’s the child’s father?”

My son blinked mischievously. “Mother says the grass on Father’s grave is already three meters tall!”

That night, the prince knelt and shattered the glazed tiles across an entire courtyard: “Sweetheart, the abortion potion that day was actually…”