Alen's pov
I watched Delia walk away with the men in black. Her white figure stood out in the black silhouette. In the plain, her skirt swayed like a lily in the wind, fragile and tough.
“Alen？”
A cry came from behind. When I looked back, it was Bud who had sent Catherine, another candidate for Queen of the Kral.
Looking at them, I felt a little strange, but I pressed the question and said hello to Catherine.
"Catherine, you're late." I kept my smile.
"To give someone a chance to win," she said, her red hair tied up and her proud, sharp eyebrows aggressive. "So what if I give her a step? The victory is mine, anyway."
She smiled scornfully and opened the carriage door. She was dressed in a black riding suit, and if she hadn't tied a white scarf to her hair, I would have thought she was on an outing.
"Catherine, now that you're here, I'm going back," Bud said in a cold, serious voice.
