Clarisse took Luke’s outstretched hand. The moment their skin touched each other, she felt a bolt run up and down her spine. They exchanged looks, and despite the awkwardness, continued to walk out of the room with Clarisse’s hand hooked around Luke’s arm.
“Konrard, bring those to the garden instead,” Luke instructed.
The two of them, followed by Konrard and two servants, walked down the hallways down to the east garden. Everyone they passed by greeted them, but Clarisse couldn’t help but notice the varieties of reactions they had. Many of which were bombastic side-eyes from women.
“I think the women in your palace won’t hesitate to come for my throat anytime I make a wrong move,” she whispered a joke as another couple of palace staff greeted them with a bow.
Luke laughed and responded, “Don’t mind them. As long as you don’t bite my head off, they won’t bare their fangs against you.”
“Very funny…”
