Chapter 197: Discontent
Inside the carriage sits an older man, his posture rigid and his expression painted with fear. There’s something vaguely familiar about him—his features bear a striking resemblance to Noelle’s, though time and hardship have carved lines into his face. His green eyes dart around the space nervously, his dark raven hair cropped short but unkempt. His attire is disheveled, as if he’s been through an ordeal that left him shaken and stripped of his dignity.
The moment his eyes land on me, he flinches, his gaze sharp and wary like a cornered animal. I step into the carriage, closing the door behind me, the small space amplifying the tension between us.
"Good afternoon, Your Majesty," I say, my tone calm but edged with a cool authority.
He startles at the title, his suspicion deepening. His eyes narrow as they flick over me, searching for any sign of deceit. The fear and uncertainty etched across his face are palpable, and it’s clear he’s trying to piece together who I am and what I want.
"Don’t worry," I continue, letting a smirk tug at the corner of my lips. "I haven’t been sent by your brother."
The mention of his brother only seems to make him more uneasy, his shoulders tensing as he leans back slightly, putting as much distance as he can between us in the confines of the carriage. His suspicion is reasonable, of course. If I were in his position—likely kidnapped, dragged from wherever he was hiding, and thrown into an unknown situation—I’d be just as wary.
But his reaction also amuses me. "You’ve nothing to fear from me," I add, keeping my voice steady and measured. "Though I can see why you’d think otherwise, given the circumstances."
His silence speaks volumes, and I can tell he’s sizing me up, trying to determine whether I’m friend or foe.
"Who are you?" the man asks, his voice cautious but laced with the grit of someone trying to hold onto some semblance of control.