(edited)
On contrary to Jevanna, Cyrail had a completely different atmosphere. The country was bustling with activity everywhere. The streets were decorated with flowers and colourful banners. Greenery could been seen in every nook of that breathtaking place.
"Reminds me of the time when Jevanna was like this-" Donovan's whispered with a sad smile haunting his mature features.
"Hm..." Replied the prince, still admiring the view of the new country with a twinge of guilt rising in his chest as he thought of the dull atmosphere of Jevanna.
'There is no point of feeling guilty,' His conscience sneered 'It all your fault.' He scoffed.
Matthew hated to admit it, but his conscience was right.
'I am always right.' His conscience pushed up his square-framed glasses.
Matthew rolled his eyes in response and looked back outside the window. A small smile played on his lips as he looked at the cheerful streets on Cyrail.
"Joseph, stop the carriage." Matthew ordered.
"But son why?" His father asked, quite confused by his son's sudden decision.
"Father, I was hoping I could have a stroll in the streets of this mirthful place, perhaps it could take out the sadness dwelling within me."
Sebastian smiled at his son, relieved that after years his son was finally eager to explore the positive side of his life.
"If you must, my child. The people here are kind enough to show you the direction to the palace, in case you have a hard time finding it. Make sure you do not end up being late-"
"Worry not, father. I'll reach there before dinner." Matthew smiled genuinely at his father which was indeed a rare sight, but it looked like his father wasn't the only one excited about Matthew's decision — even Joseph was glad that the prince had talked about bringing a change. After Ophelia's death, the only place he would visit was the graveyard, otherwise he would spend time in the castle, lost in memories of the past. The flaxen haired male halted the carriage and opened the door for the prince with a grin on his face.
"Your cheeks will hurt, Joseph. Stop smiling like that you look an idiot." Matthew shook his head.
'Were they really happy at such a minor decision of his? Was he really in such a miserable state that people started harbouring the feeling of pity for him?'
"Ah Sire, your words impaled my heart." Joseph replied, sounding hurt, though his voice held humour in it.
"Grin like that on your wedding day."
Joseph chuckled, "Will do, sire. Will do."
Matthew smiled softly before bowing at Joseph who in turn bowed back as a mark of respect.
"Meet you two at the palace."
"Certainly." Joseph replied while Donovan nodded his head before they parted ways.
Now Matthew was not a person who would want people to always give him attention, but the people present there seemed naturally captivated by the unknown young man. His presence radiated an aura of dominance that even a busy blacksmith would halt his work to look up at him, while the ladies that passed by would freeze at their spots, hypnotised by his mysterious and charming looks.
After all Adonis was truly his middle name.
But Matthew did not pay heed to the unnecessary attention he was getting, he was too busy admiring the beautiful streets of Cyrail. The sun had already begun to set — that gave the sky different hues infusing into one another, the lampposts began to light up the streets.
Matthew could smell the savouring aroma of the cakes and biscuits from the nearby bakery, he could also see many working hard in their stations while others were wrapping up their business. Little kids ran along the pavement, giggling and chuckling without any care of the world.
'...We could have kids, Matthew, don't you think?'
'...Hm.'
'A boy and a girl- Fiona and Avon.' She giggled, her voice resonated in his ears like a sad flute playing in the distance valley.
His thoughts soon dispersed in the air when he heard a bold feminine voice. The voice held a certain charisma and a little bit of mischief.
"Move aside! Move, move, move!" She yelled chuckling. Matthew's gaze averted where the voice was coming from....
'From behind a wheelbarrow?'
His sapphire eyes altered to the wheelbarrow speeding towards him, and behind it was a brunette with long straight hair — flowing with the wind like a cloak. Her brown eyes shone like the evening star. Her beauty stunned him before the imagine of Ophelia frolicking in the garden flashed through his mind, his heart twisted in pain once again. He became so wrapped up in his agonising thoughts that he did not have time to dodge the wheelbarrow.
Crash!
"Oops?"
YOU ARE READING
Yours Truly
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