Prince Raquim took a cautious step back, his heart racing as he locked eyes with the unmistakable figure before him. Those striking blue eyes, sharp and intense, seemed to pierce through the haze of disbelief clouding his mind. How could it possibly be that Marx Skylar was standing there before him? He thought the man was lost forever, his mind swirling in confusion at the impossible sight.
"Oh, look who it is—the Crown Prince of Albanya. What a coincidence!" Marx drawled, his tone dripping with indifference. A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth as he casually leaned against the wall, his hands inside his pockets. His eyes slid over the prince with a mix of feigned surprise, and the air thickened with underlying tension.
""Marx Skylar?" Princes Raquim inquired hesitantly, his voice barely rising above a whisper, uncertainty etched across his brow.
