Chapter 89: Paris Confessed To Maria

The crying stopped. The prince still had his face buried in Maria's right shoulder. She couldn't tell how long it had been, but the soreness in her limbs and lower back had been growing. She tried her best to ignore it—it was the least she could do at such depressive moments. Perhaps after this, she would try to get him to eat something then go and find Sophie. "My grandfather adored my mother when she is still alive," a voice croaked in the enveloping silence. Maria focused on it to numb the pain. "When she died, he was devastated. I promised her to look after him, so I would visit him for winter." Maria breathed in and out calmly. Paris continued in a sad, faint whisper, "He would tell me stories about my mother all the time." "Does ne not live in Lenmont?" "No… He is the prince of Kommuovere, second in line to the throne." Those emerald crystals blinked in the dark. She had never heard of the place. But a prince? As in th