In Albanya, Prince Raquim felt a tightness in his chest when he saw the unmistakable gleam in Amaya's eyes when Marx handed her the bouquet. In that instant, a wave of bittersweet emotions washed over him.
Marx disappeared for two years and were only together for a few months before that. Yet, looking at the sparkle in Amaya's eyes, her affection for him had not waned a bit.
The crown prince of Albnya clenched his fists as he lowered his gaze to look at the black liquid from a delicate porcelain mug, where white steam curled up like a mist.
Beside him, a delicate young woman placed her teacup down, her brows furrowing with quiet concern. "Are you alright, My Prince?" Lady Vitara asked softly, her gaze searching his face.
"I am fine, Lady Vitara." Prince Raquim answered, his voice serious and his face indifferent.
