Their unfortunate encounter part 2

*Saerom pov *

As I leaped off the kitchen countertop, my mind already set on a mission to the Town of Gray Agatnez.

"Saerom, will you also head to the town"

Theodore`s question, met with a nod and a playful grin as I plucked the cherry-flavoured lollipop out of my mouth.

"Yes, Teddy, suddenly I'm craving something good,"

I replied with a mischievous grin, my eyes twinkling with anticipation.

With a wave goodbye, I set off towards the town, my steps light and purposeful. Today, I was on a watermelon mission – my heart set on finding the perfect fruit to satisfy my cravings.

As I meandered through the bustling streets, my thoughts were consumed by one thing: watermelon. It wasn't just a fruit to me; it was the love of my life.

I made my way to every shop that might sell watermelon, determined to find the perfect one.

The mere thought of sinking my teeth into the sweet, refreshing flesh made my mouth water.

And then, in the distance, I spotted it - a vibrant watermelon displayed enticingly in front of a street shop. Its green rind gleamed in the sunlight, beckoning my closer with promises of succulent goodness.

Without hesitation, I approached the shop, my heart racing with excitement. I could already imagine the crunch, the juice dribbling down my chin. My heart raced; this was destiny.

I approached the owner, an old man with a stern gaze. 

"Sir,Your watermelons,"

I said, my voice breathless with anticipation,

"Let me just say, they're magnificent."

My passion for watermelon is evident in each of my words.

His face softened, lines etching deeper.

"Not many notice that,"

he replied.

"But you appreciate the labor. The care ."

Touched by my words. It was clear that no one had ever appreciated his hard work quite like I did, which he deserved.

In that moment, I felt a bond formed between us, forged by my heartfelt appreciation and the owner's dedication to his craft.

It was a connection that transcended a mere customer and a vendor, hinting at the possibility of a long lasting friendship.

When it was time to leave, I cradled my precious watermelon, the promising joy.

The owner bid me farewell, with his softened eyes, a sense of contentment filled me.

The warmth of our brief interaction lingered in the air as I turned to leave, my mind already relishing the sweet anticipation of enjoying my juicy prize.

But fate had other plans

Before I could comprehend what happened.

A carriage thundered toward me, horses snorting, hooves pounding. In that split second Panic surged—I stumbled, as the watermelon slipped from my grasp, a green comet falling to the ground. My legs gave way, and I sank, my knees meeting the cobblestones in the ground.

There, laid the watermelon in front me, split open, its red flesh exposed. A solitary tear traced a path down my cheek.

My poor watermelon, sacrificed to that damn carriage.

But it wasn't my scraped knees that pained me—it was the loss of my watermelon, my love, laid broken.

The owner rushed to my side, concern etching his face.

"Child, are you hurt?"

His comforting presence is a balm to my wounded spirit. I felt the stern gaze of the old man linger on the passing carriage, a silent question hanging in the air – who could be so heartless as to cause such devastation?

As the owner of the carriage emerged, the old man's expression shifted from anger to shock, his features contorted with disbelief. Recognition dawned upon him, his eyes widening in astonishment as he realised the identity of the man before us.

mourned the loss of my precious watermelon, consumed by a mixture of grief and fury, I felt a presence looming behind me. I turned around, my glare directed at the owner of the carriage.

It was the carriage's fault, and that realisation fuelled my anger. With a swift motion, I wiped away the solitary tear that lingered on my cheek with my arm, facing him—face to face

Our eyes locked in a brief moment of intensity, his features holding an enigmatic allure that momentarily captivated me before I snapped back to reality.

"I'm terribly sorry for your w-"

"HOW DARE YOU, you monster"

I shouted at him, passionately.

Not allowing him to apologize, berating him for letting my precious watermelon fall to the ground.

He stood there, speechless. Every attempt to utter a word was thwarted by my relentless tirade. His only response was a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, further fuelling my anger, as I hurled a chunk of watermelon at his face, the juice splattering across his features in a satisfying display of retribution.

Satisfied with the result, I stormed off in frustration,

The old man watched me, concern etched on his face. He knew who the mysterious man was, but I remained blissfully unaware of my audacity.

The man approached the old fellow, watermelon juice still dripping down his cheek.

"Tell me, old man,"

he said, curiosity evident in his tone.

"Who is this woman?"

The old man hesitated, trembling.

"I-I don`t know, sir,"

he stammered.

"I'm afraid I don't know who she is."

A cheeky smile played on the mysterious man's lips as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"What an intriguing woman,"

he mused aloud.

She had dared to yell at Duke Zella in front of everyone, blissfully unaware of his identity. . .