Chapter 551
Chapter 551:
His jaw clenched at the memory of Myron shoving the wooden fox sculpture he was offering Millie as a gift back into his hands, making him look like a fool.
“No way I’m letting this slide.” Without another thought, Egbert yanked on a fresh shirt and thundered down the stairs. At the same time, Brandon caught the video too. He had just gotten back after dropping Vivian off. It was Vivian who pulled up the video and handed it to him.
“Looks like Myron’s got his eye on Millie,” Vivian remarked, her voice lilting with mischief.
Brandon’s jaw clenched, but he refused to give her the satisfaction of a response.
Vivian’s eyes danced with amusement. “First, he made blue rain fall just for her, then a cozy fishing trip, and now he’s got her grinning on that island with his little magic show. Honestly, Millie doesn’t look like she’s resisting. Maybe she’s finally ready to say yes to him?”
Her words stung, each syllable twisting the knife.
Brandon felt something tight and bitter coil in his chest. When did Myron start putting on a show like that?
On the island, Myron was already weaving Millie through the bustling streets, his hand lightly clasped around hers. He led her from one breathtaking spot to the next.
He paused at a spice vendor, flashing Millie a playful grin. “Check these out. I acquired them from a small village in Gliphis.”
With a flick of his wrist, Myron scattered a pinch of the spices onto an open flame. The fire caught instantly, sending up a strange, wild aroma that drifted on the breeze.
Millie breathed it in, the scent so earthy and sharp it conjured the image of a deer bolting through the morning mist.
“Wait,” Myron murmured, moving closer. He tied a delicate sachet to her belt, letting his fingers linger. Original content can be found at.net
The scent was unmistakable—exactly the same as the one he had just lit moments ago. This made the fifth sachet he’d fastened to her belt that night.
Millie broke into laughter, shaking her head. “Honestly, you’re making me feel like I’m in one of those palace dramas, where the emperor ends up with a whole collection of sachets dangling from his waist—each one from a different concubine.”
Myron flashed a mischievous grin. “In that case, I guess you’ll have to think of me as one of your pampered wives, Your Majesty.”
She stared at him, speechless for a second, until he lifted a single finger, eyes twinkling. “But I’m putting in a special request,” he added. “I want to be the imperial consort.”
Millie rolled her eyes with theatrical exasperation but couldn’t hide her smile. Myron burst out laughing, the easy camaraderie between them lighting up the street.
They both understood it was nothing more than playful banter.
As they wandered on, Myron steered her toward a small stall tucked between busier vendors. The tabletop overflowed with polished stones, each one smooth and cool to the touch.
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