Sighing in deep defeat, she weakly picked up the spoon. With actual tears of frustration and exhaustion gathering in her eyes, she took a bite of the plain, watery rice. Ironically, the taste itself wasn't bad—it was clean and warm. But the real problem was the psychological trauma attached to it.
In her past as Seera, when she first came to this household as a low-born maid, that wicked old woman in the kitchen would only give her leftover, rotting vegetables on a good day. Most of the time, Seera had survived entirely on plain rice water.
And now, after searching for revenge, she was sitting on a bed in the capital, staring at the exact same food.
A few genuine tears silently spilled over her lashes, rolling down her flushed cheeks. Seeing those tears, Samuel instantly froze. He didn't dare say another word, his playful demeanor completely vanishing into a wave of guilty panic.
