The Dinner

Back at the palace, Prince Raquim had long left the pool, trading his princely robe for a casual ensemble: fitted blue jeans and a crisp white long-sleeved polo shirt, the kind that made him appear effortlessly elegant even in simplicity.

Since Princess Amaya's departure, his interest in swimming had evaporated like the mist rising from the pool.

He now wandered along the pool's edge, his footsteps echoing faintly in the cool evening air. With restless energy, he glanced at his watch every few moments.

"Brother, why not join me here and enjoy the hot spring? It's much better than pacing around like a caged lion," Tamara teased from her lounging spot in the steaming pool, her tone light and mocking. "Do you know what you look like?"

Raquim stopped and turned his sharp gaze toward her, his eyes flashing a silent warning.

"You look like a husband restlessly waiting for his wife," she quipped, breaking into hearty laughter.