𝟏𝟗𝟒𝟔 ：𝑬𝒌 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒎 𝒌𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒂 ✓

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘝𝘐𝘐𝘐. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴?

Edward's POV;

The evening air was calm, yet my mind was restless. Leaving the bustling market behind, I made my way home, thoughts weighing heavily on my mind. This was not something I could ignore-I needed to speak with my father.

As I entered his chamber, I found him seated comfortably, sipping tea as if the world around him was perfectly in order. He exuded an air of authority, but I knew him well-his calm demeanor often masked far more sinister intentions.

His eyes flickered to me, a hint of amusement in his expression as he said in his unmistakable British accent, "Ah, Edward, my son. Come, we haven't spent much time together. We have much to discuss."

I took a steady breath before responding, "Yes, Father, we do indeed need to talk."

He gestured toward the chair beside him, an unspoken command for me to sit. I complied, my thoughts racing as I contemplated how to approach the subject.

Breaking the silence, I asked, "Father, I need to ask you something."

He raised an eyebrow, taking another slow sip of tea. "Go ahead, son."

I chose my words carefully. "What were you doing in the market today? And why were you intimidating that girl?"

A smirk played on his lips, one I had seen far too often. "Ah, so you noticed me. I wasn't intimidating her, Edward. I was merely observing, ensuring everything was in order. That girl simply happened to cross my path-an unfortunate coincidence. But I must admit, she was a delightful sight. Such an innocent little doll."

My hands clenched into fists at his words. "Father, we must remember that this is not our land. We have no right to treat them this way. This is their country."

He chuckled, shaking his head as if I were a foolish child. "You sound just like your mother. I had hoped you would stand by my side in this endeavor, become my partner in it all. But alas, I should have known-you've always taken after her."

His words ignited a fire within me. "No, Father. I will not partake in this. And don't you dare refer to that girl as a 'doll.'"

I placed extra stress on the last word, my voice laced with barely contained fury. My father had always been a man who took what he wanted, without regard for anyone else. I knew what he was capable of, and the thought of him setting his sights on her made my blood boil. I couldn't allow him to harm her. She was nothing but an innocent soul, undeserving of his cruelty. And yet, I couldn't deny the way my heart clenched at the memory of her tear-filled black eyes.

My father observed me with a knowing look before his smirk widened. "Ah, so this is about her, then? She must have left quite the impression on you. I saw it, too-she's different. Brave. She dared to stand against our officers. I suspect that's what's drawn you to her. Perhaps I should teach her a lesson, in my own way."

A surge of anger coursed through me. "No, Father. She was only defending herself. It was our officers who instigated the attack, and she fought back out of necessity. Do not twist the truth to suit your own desires."

His smirk faltered for a moment before returning, now laced with mockery. "Oh, my dear boy, you're completely enamored, aren't you? What has she done to you?"

I was trembling with rage, every fiber of my being resisting the urge to strike something-or worse, someone. My voice came out low and warning. "She has done nothing to me, Father. But hear me now-if you so much as attempt to harm her, I swear, I will do something even more foolish. And if you go against my will, I will no longer see you as my father. Consider this your only warning."