Chapter 11 — We’ll Part Soon
"I apologize, Your Majesty, but I cannot accept these gifts," Lucian raised his hands to signal the servants to leave the training ground.
The servants hesitated, glancing at the king, who gave them a reluctant nod.
"Alright then enjoy your stay until the wedding begins," Alistair said, forcing a smile that barely concealed his irritation.
"We will," Lucian replied, bowing slightly, recognizing the irony in the king’s tone.
As Alistair turned to leave, a lock of long silver hair peeked out from behind a large gray pillar.
The young lady’s violet eyes tried to catch a glimpse of the dark-haired man whose arrival had quickly become the talk of the palace and stirred everyone’s curiosity.
Princess Cynthia’s would-be husband.
Suddenly, that lock of hair was darkened by the shadow of a guard.
"You there! What are you doing? Get away from here!" the guard barked, grabbing the young girl’s arm firmly and pulling her away before she could fully see what she wanted.
Her plain dark dress was smeared with mud, and a soft groan escaped her lips. The guard ignored her discomfort and continued to drag her away.
"Stay away from here," he commanded, shoving her into the maids’ quarters. "Do not let me catch you in the Prince of the Selvarys’ wing again!" With that, he left.