A moment later, the bedroom door opened, and a peerlessly handsome young man walked out. Hayden Ashworth and the others, who were sitting on the sofa, all stared wide-eyed, not even blinking. The sheer amazement in their eyes made the scene rather comical and absurd.
The young man's hair, as dark as spilled ink, was simply tied back with a thin satin ribbon. A loose, silvery-purple outer robe enveloped his slender, tall frame, embroidered with large, mysterious patterns in silver thread that lent him an air of nobility and mystique.
What was even more astonishing was that, while the face was still the same—not a single feature had been altered—it was as if the Seraphina Ashworth before them was a completely different person. If she hadn't just walked out of that very bedroom, Hayden Ashworth and the others would have been almost certain this couldn't be her.
'Is this stunning young man really our master?'
