Saving The Argent

Arranged Married

Contrary to her wish, only Gwyneth Merlin's voice had fallen, approaching her slowly, and the countenance of her face was on the rise.

"No, Jenna. You should leave before nightfall, return to the old village and you should live."

Jenna is horrified to open her eyes, standing behind her speechless feet. Look at them! Ever since that b*tch had stared at her in such a grim, deathly way. Her instinct for survival urges her to run away quickly, but she is unable to move.

Slap! A direct blow was thrown against her filthy face, and her fingers were bruised all over her, painstaking face. She fell and grabbed her face in panic.

"The first slap, for the worst food you bring every day."

Slap!

"The second slap, for your theft of the monthly money the Viscount has given me."

Slap!

"Last slap, for the heart stupidity I have given you over the past five years. I have trusted you sincerely, but you only know how to harm me."

Jenna was beaten to the blood, shouting in her face constantly on the floor. She put her foot on her feet, pleading: "Lady, I was wrong! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...!!"

"I, Gwyneth Merlin, have officially removed the name Jenna, which I have given away from the Gwyneth maids forever!"

Merlin hasn't come back here for a while, but it has remained poor and collapsed. The musty smell all over the room. Is this room for a young Viscount's daughter? It's no different than a cramped black room.

The memory of this evil house is too much, but there's no memory of happiness. All of it, it was all flogging, it was screaming. She didn't want to stay there, sickening it.

Merlin pushes the closet, arbitrarily throwing the simplest of clothes down the stairs herself. Slipping through the long, wiggling corridors with her fingers across the classical pine corridor, she moves her way toward a bright yellow light shining on the man's face.

Her arms tightened as if they were emitting blood. That old man, Viscount Gwyneth Ralph, was her foster father, and he never gave her tenderness.

Ralph, having been drinking his tea slowly and raising his eyes, crossed his legs, oblivious to Merlin's pathetic appearance, and said gently:

"Duke Vincent sent a letter of engagement yesterday. How do you feel?"

"I wonder what the Duke has given you, Gwyneth Ralph, which makes you willing to sell your daughter again?"

Merlin asked him bitterly, with tense fingers rubbing against each other, what to do to get out of here…

"Money," Ralph replied briefly.

"What?" Since when has Gwyneth been deprived of such money?

"Vincent has given my family so much money and treasure that it will spend more than ten years, Merlin.

Gwyneth has raised you without complaint for nineteen years, and it is time to repay us."

Who raised me? You only see me as a pleasure to torment, and I blame myself for making you feel uncomfortable and admit your mistakes. It's pathetic!

"Gwyneth Merlin, I have agreed to this marriage. So cut yourself off from the scum of Alfred Oscar!"

"I will, so it is not your turn to remind you."

How can Merlin forget that Oscar, who shook hands with his righteous friend Xavia, took her life... and indirectly gave hể a second chance to make amends? Should I thank you or hate you, Alfred Oscar?

"Are you finally thinking right? Well done! I will write a response to Duke Vincent, that Gwyneth Merlin has agreed to become the wife of a duke hanging on the threshold of death. Good, good! I'll give you a big feast before you leave."

From the outside, the door grew steadily forward, with a veiled manager- Steve running in, he bowed low with respect, his unhidden voice quivering: "Brig... Bridget Vincent is out there, master!"

"What? Why is it so sudden? Let's get Merlin into her room to put on a nice suit." When he got the news, he got up in a stupor. That's why that shithead has arrived at this hour. He's not prepared for himself, and a filthy, stinking little w***e is standing by him.

As Merlin has heard Vincent's arrival, she is more horribly shaken than anyone else, having met him only a few times in the past, but that day she ran away from Bridger Castle, breaking her heart in her chest.

Merlin had spilled a hot cup of tea onto her dress. The tea has just finished, and the smoke, which is still unresolved, burns her whole thigh.

Merlin keeps the pain in check, as they prepare so desperately, that she snaps herself back to her room. No servant ever notices her, who just gives her eyes as if she were a helpless swallow trying to wave back to the nest.

Bang! Merlin closes the door, and she collapses into tears on the cold ground. What should I do? I don't dare to stand up to that evil Viscount... please someone come here to save me…

And nobody's going to be right? No matter how many times we live again, she will be a lonely person...

No way! You must be strong, Merlin. Her hands reassured, and she had just stripped herself of her clothes, her bright red meat as the heat began to spread over her thin, dead dress.

Look around the closet for a long time. What is this place without disinfectant? She used to use it and left it on this desk. As Merlin had found the answer, she was infuriated, and at last, saying, "Jenna! Go to hell!"

The shouting had not reached far below, where Duke Vincent's men were preparing to move in. Gwyneth Ralph and his butler Steve stand under the roof, a courtesy carriage representing the family of Siegfried's family riding in front of them, while a carriage comes with a golden trunk.

The honorable man slowly stepped off the carriage, his close companion giving him a carved rod full of diamonds that looked like a sharp iron sword.

A tall, thin body, long black hair, a sharp face, and a long, pointy eye with eyes that sometimes fascinated a person. A man who should be a great venerable, but in a few years, this incurable monstrous disease will knock him down.

Vincent dressed in formal dress, with a red rugby in the heart above his chest. Both of these have been the work of female servants for the past two hours, hardly disappointing.

A knight comes forward, laying his hands on his chest to greet Ralph, who whispers to Vincent. He meditated for a while, but remembered his gentle smile: "It is a shame I have come here suddenly without warning, Gwyneth Ralph."

Old Gwyneth Ralph greets him, scratching his head. "No sweat, haha. We always applaud you, so... " He stopped at the midpoint. His eyes had long been unable to leave the huge golden chest behind the wagon and twinkle with it. He'll be rich!

Ralph was pleased with an industrial smile, inviting people inside. He watched Vincent struggle to rely on his servant to walk without feeling cold.

Pity for a sick life, I'm the one who expects you to live longer than anyone else, my precious treasure.

Bridget Vincent has yet to sit down and is eager to inquire about his fiancee's situation.

The butler's movements suddenly stop and he looks towards the Viscount, receiving a nod from his master. Steve bows and turns his body upstairs.

Deep in the dark room, Merlin is struggling to find a piece of white robe wrapped around the wound, and Steve's butler pushes the door, "Didn't I tell you to look good? Duke Vincent is waiting for you, so get ready!!"

He looked at her in cold coldness, with no respect. But the humble housekeeper would dare to do that to the pathetic little lady in front of him.

She bent her head and wanted to cry. Ragged clothes, unkempt hair, and badly burned feet. But a second later, she put her hand under the table, and tried to walk toward the door. ''They are the best clothes I've got. No need for change..."

Angrily, Steve pursues her, grabbing her silvery hair like a spider web, and toppling her to the floor.

Merlin cried out with pain, the reluctant sweats drenched his forehead. The housekeeper has his hands cut off and has some maid ready for Merlin to see her running straight down the stairs.

I must meet you, Bridget Vincent, who will get me out of this dreaded house!

"Merlin! Stop right there! f*****g kid!" Steve tries to catch up with him, but Merlin runs away like she's going to die again.

Gwyneth Ralph was involved with introducing his precious tea from Magnus, which produced high-turned tea only for the nobility from the east.

Suddenly he heard heavy footsteps running down from the top, his face turned pale and his lips cluttered with no words.

Vincent is seen running towards her in shock, with Merlin racing straight into his body, and they both fall to the ground.

The horseman came running and rushed to him, "Duke! Are you all right?"

Vincent gripped his face, smashed his back into the floor, dipped his eyebrows quickly, turned around, and sat up, but still held Merlin's waist by the hand.

He looked at the stolen muse for so long, now struggling deep inside him, with deep pain at his heart, tens of thousands of tiny knives trying to reach a bleeding heart.