Watching their tender farewell, Ismahal narrowed his eyes at Julian, his expression bordering on disdain. How dare this man set his sights on my little sister, he fud inwardly.
anwhile, Anita settled into Marcus's saddle, fastening her carabiner as Michael approached her with a curious smile.
"Anita, did you foresee a future with Julian? Is that why things progressed so quickly between you two?"
Anita's radiant smile widened as she replied, "The future is both fluid and fixed. Actions taken to change it often lead to the very outcos that were foreseen. I've co to understand this through my teachings. If I've revealed any part of the future, it's because it was ant to be shared in that mont."
Michael pondered her cryptic words. Ti paradoxes, perhaps? Deciding it was too complex for him, he shrugged off the thought. His primary reason for bringing Anita was her safety, though her extraordinary healing abilities were an undeniable bonus.
With a teasing grin, Michael asked again, "Still, you didn't exactly answer my question."
Blushing under the glow of the setting sun, Anita laughed softly. "Julian is exactly the kind of person I dread of. I'm not sure if he's my type because I saw him in a vision or if I saw him because he's my type. Either way… isn't it more romantic to think he's just my type?"
Michael nodded with a chuckle. A wise and romantic answer indeed.
Nearby, Ismahal seethed as he watched the exchange. His sister had only just recovered, and now this man was trying to woo her. It was infuriating.
The only silver lining was that Julian couldn't join them due to his responsibilities in managing the territory. For now, Julian could only gaze longingly at the sky, silently praying for Michael and Anita's safety.
Michael glanced at him from atop Marcus and mused, Falling in love in a single day… They're like Roo and Juliet.
anwhile, in the royal palace of Lania, another woman found herself consud by thoughts of love.
Princess Astrid was in the midst of her lessons with her father, King Charles V. Despite the king's stern deanor, Astrid appreciated the ti he took to educate her, even if his gaze often betrayed a subtle sadness.
What was hardest to bear, however, was the way her mother looked at her—with resentnt, as if Astrid had stolen her brother's place.
During a brief break, Astrid tried to clear her mind of the heavy burdens of court life by indulging in a favorite daydream. She imagined herself with Michael, selecting books together, lying on the grass as he read to her, a gentle breeze caressing them.
But her father's firm voice shattered her reverie.
"Astrid, let's continue."
She nodded, pushing herself to absorb the knowledge her father imparted. She knew he had little faith in her, but she was determined to exceed his expectations.
After the lesson, Astrid hurried to the library, eager to revisit a book that tied into her studies. Lifting her skirt slightly, she rushed through the palace corridors, her heart light with anticipation.
But her path was blocked in the colonnade by none other than the queen.
Astrid froze, lowering her skirts and plastering a neutral expression on her face. Years of fear and tension welled up as the queen fixed her with a cold, mocking gaze.
"Well, aren't you pleased with yourself?" the queen sneered. "Skipping dance and embroidery lessons to bury your nose in books—have you found your calling at last?"
Astrid drew a deep breath to steady herself before replying. If I can't face my own mother, how can I ever rule a kingdom?
"Mother, your words are unfounded. I've always given my best to my duties, and I see reading as an essential skill for a princess. Given the current situation, I'm fortunate that my interests align with my responsibilities."
She curtsied lightly and tried to continue on her way, but the queen's sharp nails dug into her wrist, halting her.
"Stop right there! Do you think you can ignore now that you're the crown princess?"
Astrid clenched her jaw, the sting of the queen's grip fueling her determination. Sotis, she wondered if she was truly her mother's child.
As if reading her thoughts, the queen hissed, "You were a thorn in my side even in the womb—so different from Randolph."
Lowering her voice to a venomous whisper, she added, "Listen carefully. Tell your father you want to marry Franklin. Do you understand ?"
The queen's demand for a union with her cousin was thinly veiled as she continued, "Think wisely, Astrid. Your position isn't secure yet. You'll need the support of my family if you wish to keep it."
Astrid counted to ten silently, steadying her breath before replying, "That won't be possible, Mother. Franklin is in no position to aid . As the crown princess, it's my duty to enter a marriage that benefits the kingdom."
The queen's eyes flashed with fury as her grip tightened.
The queen's grip on Astrid's wrist tightened further as her anger flared.
"How dare you imply that your maternal family is of no use to you? Are you disregarding entirely?"
Astrid let out a barely audible sigh, keeping her voice calm as she responded.
"That's not what I ant, Mother. My maternal family should support unconditionally, shouldn't they? What alternative do they have? Marrying a cousin offers no benefit in this situation."
Defeated by her daughter's logic, the queen's fingers dug deeper into Astrid's wrist in frustration.
Their tense standoff was interrupted by a smooth, authoritative voice.
"Well, well… Her Majesty the Queen and the Crown Princess. Are we playing tag, perhaps? Your Majesty, might I suggest you release the princess's wrist? Even a mother's love shouldn't leave marks like these."
Startled, the queen released Astrid's wrist. Red marks and faint traces of blood were visible on the princess's delicate skin.
"Duke Capone," the queen said, forcing composure into her tone. "What brings you here? I was having a private conversation with my daughter."
Duke Capone stepped forward, his deanor courteous yet firm. He bowed slightly to Astrid, placing a light kiss on her hand before inspecting her injury. Turning back to the queen, his expression grew serious.
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