A fragrant aroma wafted from the clay pot in front of her. Inside, the golden petals of the Magic Flower slowly spun together with the herbs and roots that Alana had collected from Mount Cendrawasih. Alana's hopes were now pinned on this potion, for her brother Enver's recovery.
Prince Enver, stared at Alana with a look of admiration. The sunlight that penetrated the window reflected off Alana's jet black hair, making her look like an angel descending from the sky. He was transfixed by Alana's every move, the way she cut the roots, the way she measured the liquid, and even the way she wiped the sweat from her forehead.
"You look tired, Alana." Prince Enver's voice sounded hoarse, yet gentle.
Alana smiled, without stopping her work. "This is nothing compared to the suffering your brother is going through, Enver. I just want your brother to get well soon,"
"But you risked your life to get that flower," There was a hint of worry in the Prince's words.