"When I previously said 'keep a close eye on her,' Your Highness," Duke Jann's voice rose in the parlor, laden with deliberate mockery and suppressed rage, as well as an ominous forewarning of a storm brewing, "I absolutely did not mean to abduct my sister in broad daylight before the public..."
However, Prince Thales, sitting opposite in a precious armchair, appeared expressionless and distracted.
Abduct?
Morning light filled the room, and Thales stared at a cup of exotic floral tea on the small table, utterly exhausted.
Yes, abduct.
But what kind of abduction?
By assassins? By enemies? By power or authority? By circumstances? By strangely unspeakable evil?
The lawyer's face flashed before his eyes. One moment it showed a loss of composure with anguished screams, and another it was foolishly smiling, blissfully innocent.
Thales' gaze fixed on the reflection in his cup, indistinct as if both real and illusory.
