The villain's side of the novel



Few year's ago, Inside the cafeteria of the International Academy, an elegant and spacious room filled with a buzzing atmosphere. The air is filled with the clattering of plates, the aroma of various cuisines, and the chatter of students.

The cafeteria is adorned with large windows, allowing natural light to stream in and illuminate the space. The walls are painted in soft pastel colors, creating a serene ambiance. The tables are neatly arranged, providing ample seating for the students.

At one of the tables, positioned near the center of the cafeteria, sits the beautiful Zina. She possesses a striking appearance with her flowing blond hair cascading down her shoulders, accentuating her clear and flawless complexion. Her delicate face displays an expression of confusion and doubt as she gazes intently at the pocket watch she holds in her hands.

The table where Zina sits is meticulously organized. A neatly folded white napkin rests beside a ceramic plate, upon which lies a half-eaten meal. A glass filled with clear liquid stands nearby, indicating that Zina has already started her meal.

As Zina lifts her head from the pocket watch, her eyes meet those of Luke, a handsome young man with blond hair and a warm smile. He approaches her table with a lively and energetic demeanor, exuding a sense of confidence.

The surrounding students move about, their conversations creating a lively background noise. Some students sit at nearby tables, engaged in animated discussions or immersed in their own thoughts. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and a variety of foods tantalizes the senses, adding to the vibrant atmosphere.

"Zina! Hello, what a coincidence," a lively and masculine voice interrupted her thoughts. Zina lifted her head from the watch to see a handsome young man with blond hair and a gentle smile. She responded with a seemingly emotionless face, "Hello, Luke. What are you doing here?"

"I was meeting a friend here, didn't expect to find you. Are you waiting for someone?" Luke asked as he pulled out a chair and sat down.

"Yes, I'm waiting for Fray," Zina replied curtly.

"Ah, I heard the news too," Luke said, his voice filled with sympathy. "Are you okay?"

Zina's expression grew colder as she understood Luke's implications. Many viewed Fray as a cold and evil man, and they believed that someone as talented, beautiful, and esteemed as Zina deserved better. She knew Luke was hinting at this. With a nod and a cold voice, she replied, "Luke, this is a personal matter. Please refrain from intervening, and remember that Fray is still my fiancé. Watch how you speak about him in my presence."

"Zina, please understand, I still consider Fray a friend. I just don't see a promising future for your relationship," Luke earnestly explained.

"Why are you so interested in our relationship?" Zina's voice carried a tinge of anger. Luke had once again insulted her fiancé in front of her.

"I'm only trying to console you, Zina," Luke replied, looking slightly dazed.

"Even if I break up with Fray, there will never be a relationship between us. I have no intention of being part of someone's harem," Zina stated coldly, her gaze piercing into Luke, whose expression turned sorrowful.

In a corner of the cafeteria, concealed by a small wall, stood a tall young man with black hair and a cold demeanor. He had listened to the conversation attentively, contemplating the imminent end of this troublesome arranged engagement.

*******

The present day , in a spacious and elegantly furnished room within the confines of the Royal Palace. Soft sunlight streamed through tall windows, casting a warm glow on the surroundings. The room was tastefully decorated with intricate tapestries adorning the walls, depicting scenes of grandeur and royalty.

Zina and Fray stood facing each other, their expressions locked in a tense standoff. Zina's features reflected a mix of confusion, anger, and sadness, while Fray's countenance remained stoic and cold. The room seemed to hold its breath, as if anticipating the outcome of their conversation.

Fray's cold voice cut through the air as he responded to Zina's confused question. She looked at him intently, a mixture of seriousness and anger in her eyes.

"What do you mean?" Zina asked, her voice still laced with a hint of anger.

"Why are you treating me like this? We used to have a good relationship," she added, her gaze fixed on Fray.

Fray's icy facade momentarily wavered as Zina's question pierced through his defenses. He had been grappling with the same inquiry ever since he had witnessed Zina's disheartening state at the lavish party. The image of her, once strong and indomitable, reduced to such vulnerability had haunted him. In the depths of his introspection, an elusive notion began to take shape, casting a flicker of uncertainty across his features. It was as if a puzzle piece had fallen into place, suggesting a potential answer, yet he couldn't fully grasp it. The threads of his thoughts remained entangled, leaving him with a sense of unease and a burning desire to uncover the truth that eluded him. And amidst this internal turmoil, a single phrase reverberated within his mind, offering a glimmer of insight amidst the tumultuous sea of his thoughts.

"You don't deserve my respect anymore," Fray's voice was even colder than before, his words leaving a chilling impact.

Zina's expression became tense and sad upon hearing Fray's reply. Her anger was mingled with sorrow as she responded, "You don't know what I've been through. You have no right to judge me like that."

"What? What have you been through? Some petty bullying from your sisters? Are you truly that weak to be reduced to such a miserable state every time you face a challenge? Pathetic," Fray retorted, his voice tinged with a mix of seriousness and anger.

Zina's expression grew more complex as she realized the foolishness of her words, especially when directed at Fray. She knew more than anyone else the hardships Fray had endured to reach his current position. Compared to his past, Zina's troubles seemed trivial. As she looked down at the floor, her expression carried a blend of emotions. She acknowledged her own weakness and thought, (He's right. I'm pathetic.)