Chapter 111

[ 1,059 words ]

{Third Person}

She pushed herself up quickly, the photograph slipping slightly against her chest as she sat there, trying to steady her breathing.

The kiss still felt real. That was the problem. It didn’t feel like a dream.

Her fingers hovered near her lips again before she quickly pulled her hand away, almost as if she had been caught doing something she shouldn’t.

“It was just a dream,” she muttered under her breath.

But the more she tried to dismiss it, the clearer it became in her mind—the way he had looked at her, the way he had leaned in, the way it had felt.

Amara groaned softly and pressed her face into her pillow for a moment.

“This is ridiculous… What is wrong with me?”

Just then, a knock came at the door.

She sat up immediately, straightening her posture as if that would somehow hide the chaos in her thoughts.

“My lady,” Mrs. Woods’ voice called from outside.

“Come in,” Amara replied quickly.

The door opened, and Mrs. Woods stepped inside with her usual composed expression. “His Highness has requested your presence for dinner.”

Amara blinked. “…Dinner?”

For a moment, she simply stared at her.

“With… him?” she asked, gesturing vaguely in the direction of Alexander’s residence.

Mrs. Woods nodded. “Yes, my lady.”

Amara’s mind went blank as her thoughts busied. ’Of all times—why now?’

Her thoughts immediately betrayed her, dragging her back to the dream she had just had. Heat rushed to her face.

“I…” she began, then stopped. Then something else occurred to her. She glanced towards the window and noticed the light had changed.

“…Wait,” she murmured, frowning slightly. “What time is it?”

“It is already evening, my lady.”

Amara’s eyes widened. “I slept that long?”

What was meant to be a short nap had stretched into the entire afternoon.

Mrs. Woods only smiled faintly. “It seems so.”

Amara pressed her lips together before shaking her head quickly, as if trying to gather herself.

“I will get ready,” she said, already standing.

—

The next few minutes passed quickly.

Amara washed her face, changed into a fresh outfit, and tried unsuccessfully to calm herself.

“It was just a dream,” she told herself again. “Act normal.”

Then, she looked at her reflection and repeated, “…Just normal.”

Even she did not believe it.

Before leaving, she picked up the three letters she had written and held them carefully in her hand. Then, after a brief pause, she bent down and picked up Ginger.

“You’re coming with me,” she said softly.

Ginger let out a small meow and settled comfortably in her arms.

Amara took a steady breath and finally stepped out.

By the time she reached Alexander’s side of the residence, her heart was already beating faster than usual.

A servant led her in without delay.

Alexander was already seated at the table.

As always, he looked composed and unaffected, as though nothing in the world could disturb him.

Amara paused for a brief moment before stepping forward. “Your Highness,” she greeted.

Alexander glanced at her briefly. “Sit.”

She nodded and took her seat. Everything felt normal, in fact, too normal.

Servants moved quietly, placing dishes on the table as the aroma of the food filled the room.

Amara picked up her utensils. ’ Please act normal,’ she couldn’t help reminding herself before taking a bite.

Then, without meaning to, her gaze lifted, and it landed on him. More specifically, on his lips.

Her breath caught slightly. Then, she immediately looked away in fright. ’ What are you doing?’

Amara forced herself to focus on her plate again. She took another bite, then, a moment later, her eyes drifted again just for a second. Then she looked down quickly.

She shifted slightly in her seat, trying to steady herself.

She took another bite, more like another attempt, but the image refused to leave her mind. The dream replayed itself in fragments, uninvited and persistent.

She tightened her grip on her utensils. ’ Stop it.’

And yet, her eyes lifted again. This time, Alexander noticed. He said nothing at first and just simply watched. Then it happened again and again.

By the third time, he set his utensils down. Amara did not notice until she heard his voice.

“Am I more appetizing to you than the food?”

His voice was calm and serious.

Amara froze, then her eyes widened instantly. “What—?!”

The moment she tried to respond, she inhaled incorrectly and began to choke.

She coughed immediately, setting her utensils down as she struggled to breathe properly.

“I—I’m not—” she tried to speak, but only made it worse.

Her face flushed red, and her eyes watered.

“I wasn’t looking—I mean—I wasn’t—” she stammered, completely unable to form a proper sentence.

Before she could recover, the door opened and a new, warm, light voice filled the room.

“Am I interrupting something interesting?”

Amara turned instinctively in time to see a man step in.

He was striking, though not in the same way as Alexander. Where Alexander felt distant and sharp, this man felt open and approachable.

There was an easy smile on his lips, and his presence immediately softened the atmosphere.

At the same time, Barron’s gaze fell on Amara almost immediately. Then his smile widened.

“Well,” he said as he walked forward, “this must be the famous human bride.”

Amara blinked, still trying to recover. “I—”

Barron did not wait. He approached her with natural confidence and stopped at a respectful distance.

“My name is Barron,” he said smoothly. “Alexander’s cousin from his maternal side.”

Before she could react, he gently took her hand and pressed a light, respectful kiss to the back of it.

Amara froze for a brief second, then blinked again. “I’m… Amara,” she said softly.

Barron smiled. “It’s my pleasure.”

Across the table, Alexander said nothing regarding the exchange, but his gaze darkened slightly.

Amara, however, was too busy trying to steady herself to notice.

Right then, Barron straightened, completely at ease. “I can already tell that I arrived at the perfect time,” he said lightly, glancing between them.

Amara let out a small, awkward breath. But strangely, she felt less tense.

There was something about Barron’s presence that made things easier and felt less overwhelming. It reminded her faintly of the first time she had met Elowen.

Warm.

Welcoming.

Finally, she felt like she could use a little distraction.

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