During his time in the king's working room, Marc sat quietly and listened. He had promised his mother, the queen, not to participate in all war plans and the war itself. Marc regretted his respectful attitude for the first time in the twenty-three years of his lifetime.
It should be Marc had a hand in the discussion. Marc should have contributed to the ideas and strategies of the war that swirled around inside his head. Marc shouldn't have nodded when his mother asked him not to participate in the war that was almost in sight.
The gray clouds became more and more enveloping Marc as he raised his gaze and watched Genevieve with Luis walk hand in hand five meters before him.
From behind, Sebastian rolled his right arm around Marc's shoulder, patting the prince's cheek lightly, who was simultaneously being driven by all kinds of unpleasant feelings.
