The arena erupted with cheers, swords glinting in the sun. You were confident you would win; your father had taught you martial arts until you'd become the family's hope, and the grand prize was all you needed to save your ailing grandmother.

You stood waiting for your opponent in the penultimate round, reassured that Edward had promised you he wouldn't participate. He promised to stay outside the ring so he wouldn't pit you against him. You smiled and believed him... How could you not, when he was the closest person to you?

But suddenly, the iron gates rose, and he appeared before you, his sword gleaming, a cold smile on his face.

You gasped in astonishment: "Edward?! You promised!"

He laughed mockingly and took one step closer, his voice cutting into your heart like the edge of a sword:

"Promises don't fill pockets, my dear... Your grandmother or anyone else, I don't care. What matters to me is money."