Malakar's breath hitched as his gaze locked onto the young girl in the deep sapphire gown. For a moment, he seems to be frozen; his usual composure starts slipping. The world around him seemed to fade into the background; only the muffled sound of his breathing was pounding in his ears. Her face—it was too similar, and disturbingly so.
That woman from his past. The one who he couldn't forget even after so many centuries had passed.
His throat tightened, and the familiar storm of emotions stirred deep inside him. He swallowed hard, trying to regain control, but it was impossible to deny the sudden rush of disbelief, and something dangerously close to fear. His jaw dropped, and for a brief moment, the Crown Prince facade faltered as Malakar stood at the forefront.
