The atmosphere was tense, to say the least. Illya sat at the head of a long table, tapping her finger on the armrest of her chair. Crossing one leg over the other and propping herself up with her other hand, her intense gaze drifted across the table.
"Takeru, stop flirting with my sister." She scolded the man to her right. He was a tall, handsome man with dark hair and a cocky grin.
Йой! Нажаль, це зображення не відповідає нашим правилам. Щоб продовжити публікацію, будь ласка, видаліть його або завантажте інше.
He laughed. "Apologies Highness. I couldn't help myself. I was simply taken with her beauty after having not seen her for a while....and you don't give me any attention sooo..."
The last part was more muffled and whispered under his breath. The woman to the left of Illya rolled her eyes.
Йой! Нажаль, це зображення не відповідає нашим правилам. Щоб продовжити публікацію, будь ласка, видаліть його або завантажте інше.
"Oh please, his silly squabbling is nothing but nonsense."
Takeru placed his hand on his chest, pretending to be injured.
"Ouch. You wound me, my Queen."
"I'm not your Queen," Araht fired back.
Takeru put the joking aside and shrugged his shoulders, looking away from her slyly. "Heh. With that attitude, I wouldn't want you to be. And you wonder why you aren't married yet."
Takeru was usually quite the gentleman towards women especially, but for whatever reason, he just couldn't help himself to tease the young Queen. Araht's cold exterior cracked and pink cheeks replaced her indifferent frown.
"Wha—you dare to—Sh-Shut up!!" She crossed her arms more bashfully than defensively.
"King of Kin, stop bringing us off topic." A stern, scarred woman scolded the King.
Йой! Нажаль, це зображення не відповідає нашим правилам. Щоб продовжити публікацію, будь ласка, видаліть його або завантажте інше.
