C68 (1/2)

What Marcel disliked was Camil's pure and innocent human appearance. What he lacked the most in his kingdom was ordinary people. He turned around and glared at Rebecca furiously.

Damn, she ruined everything.

Camil nodded her head in a daze. Then, pretending not to see the two of them turning around, she picked up her coat and left.

Marcel turned around and looked at Rebecca who was pestering him. This woman, even more so than Klaus, owed him a lesson! ” You're looking for Elijah, ”he said, waving his hand as if in a high, triumphant gesture.” Okay, come with me.

Marcel took Rebecca to the church, the cold church where the massacre had taken place. Upstairs, around the corner, Rebecca saw a small, well-hidden attic that no one would even notice.

”Elijah is here …” Marcel walked in first. ”If you want to see it.” With a gentle smile on his face, Rebecca gazed into the inner room. Clearly, this was a girl's room.

Exquisite and elegant, opening a door was like stepping into another small world.

Lovely little rooms, paintings, scattered books, snow-white muslin, lovely scented candles, and the sweet, sweet smell of little women in the air.

Just before Rebecca stepped into the room, she saw a portrait of the three of them, named the damned old guys, and her lips curved in a yearning smile.

The other picture was of a woman dressed in a completely different style. However, Rebecca's precise line of sight became doubtful, and the dew in the picture seemed to have a subtle strangeness to it. It could be seen that it was her, but it was different, with a different hairstyle, the color of her eyes, and also a different temperament.

Unfortunately, Rebecca did not have the time to study the paintings of the people in the room, even though they were eerily vivid. She only cared about her brother, Elijah.

Rebecca saw Elijah's coffin, and her hanging heart eased a little.

Marcel beckoned into the darkness, and Rebecca raised her foot to go in, but she was stopped, her lifting gait broken in mid-air, blocked by an invisible wall.

”Invite me in.” Thinking again, he asked, ”The witch's room?” She knew that the small room was restricted, she ordered Marcel.

Marcel raised his chin and looked at her disdainfully, ”Oh … Ask the mistress of the house. ”