'Is he really going to go through with this?'
Florian's thoughts churned as he approached the table where Heinz and Alexandria sat. The chill in the air seemed sharper, biting at his skin and making him acutely aware of his surroundings—the subtle creak of chairs, the muted hum of distant conversations, and the soft rustle of leaves in the wind. Everything felt heavier, as if the moment itself carried weight he wasn't prepared to bear.
He stopped at the edge of the table, his gaze briefly catching the gentle flutter of Alexandria's dress as she shifted her posture. Her movements were effortless, graceful, almost too perfect. When she turned to him, her radiant smile lit up her face, her expression warm and inviting, as though she didn't have a care in the world.
"Oh, Prince Florian, hello," she greeted, her voice sweet and melodic, carrying just enough charm to soften even the harshest mood.
