The moonlight bathed the palace garden in silver, and Gerah found herself wandering under the stars, away from the stiff walls of royalty. Her head was still spinning from dinner—Prince Xavier’s unexpected kindness had stirred something in her heart she wasn’t ready to admit.
As she sat by the fountain, lost in thought, a voice broke the silence.
62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFZRvpICIFU
“You don’t belong here.”
She turned.
62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMhY6v5mYr8
It was Mara, arms crossed, eyes sharp as blades.
“I didn’t ask to be here,” Gerah replied calmly.
62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡabY38Boqu7
“But you are. And now you’re a threat.”
Before Gerah could respond, footsteps echoed behind them.
62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLlhL1Yjoq2
“Princess Gerah.”
It was Marco, charming and polite, with a crooked grin that softened his serious aura.
62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQzjelbfJaD
“I was looking for you,” he said, ignoring Mara’s icy glare. “Jiru’s asking about you.”
“Jiru?” Gerah blinked.
62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡY6QhcSpe5b
“He wants to thank you. You said something earlier at dinner that helped him win the king’s favor. He’s... impressed.”
Mara raised a brow.
62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUehW9PsQpj
That’s not part of the story, Gerah thought.
Jiru’s not supposed to care about anyone but Dahlia.
And yet… here they were—people reacting in ways she never wrote. Feelings shifting. Lines blurring.
62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfjftYBfWhJ
Back in her room, Gerah stared out her window.
62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTbFpdQCf5Q
The story’s changing,” she whispered.
“And so am I.”
ns216.73.216.82da2
and then Add to home screen.