Tap... tap...
Raphael's footsteps felt exceptionally light as he crossed the main courtyard of the Iron Hearth Castle.
The freezing northern night air slapped and bit at his face, yet deep within his chest, the lingering warmth from walking Elodie home refused to fade.
He navigated the inner corridors of the castle, which had grown quiet for the night.
Only a few night-shift servants passed by with lowered heads, carrying stacks of fresh linen. They hastily bowed in respect upon spotting the youngest prince. However, Raphael, thoroughly lost in his own daydreams, merely returned their greetings with a fleeting nod.
A faint smile still graced his lips... until his footsteps abruptly froze right before the entrance to the family wing.
Rumina was already standing there like a statue.
The woman had her arms crossed rigidly over her chest. Her face now radiated an incredibly rare and terrifying aura: pure, unadulterated fury.
"Raphael."
