Prince Ford hesitated. Not out of fear. Out of calculation. Then he looked back at me and spoke. "I would like to visit," he said. "I mean, obviously, I'm curious. And it's been too long since I've taken a vacation. Althur isn't permitted to travel far from the healer clinics yet, so…" He shrugged lightly. "I thought I'd tag along."
There it was. Not a demand. Not a decree. A request.
Princess Milabuella, seated nearby, glanced sideways at me, lips twitching with amusement and innocence that I hated so much. Chubby drifted closer, shadows pulsing with interest.
"To observe," Ford added quickly, hands lifting slightly. "Your territory. Your systems. Your… methods."
I studied him then. Not the crown prince. Not the political figure. The man. He wasn't looking at me like something to claim. Or control. Or exploit. He was looking at me like someone standing at the edge of a cliff, aware that what lay beyond could either save his kingdom, or burn it to the ground.
