Looking ahead, a large bed suddenly came into view, and on it lay a woman barely covered.
Her skin was fairer than snow, yet at this moment it was covered with dense purple-red scars.
The scars crisscrossed, as if countless sharp blades had cruelly slashed back and forth.
Each scar on her tender body seemed to silently tell of the unimaginable torment she had just endured.
At this moment, a man stood in front of the bed, his posture upright, wearing a robe of moonlight white.
His face was well-defined, his brows and eyes naturally exuded a handsome charm, and in every gesture, he should have had a genteel demeanor.
Yet at this moment, his brows and eyes were filled with ferocity and brutality, forming a stark contrast with his appearance.
"Wretched maid!"
He suddenly roared, his voice sharp and piercing, completely lacking his usual cultured demeanor.
"You treacherous woman, how dare you use the princess to threaten this prince consort, you are courting death!"
