<b>Chapter 3: Queen</b>
When a middle-aged man wearing a round-rimmed glasses walked in, Rihannan immediately sent Mary out on the pretext of bringing the carriage over.
The man stared at the small, little girl on the big chair for a moment before quickly bending over to a bow.
“I heard you called me, Lady Rihannan. What’s the matter?”
“Sit down first.”
As ordered, the man nodded and sat on the chair closest to him with a face full of questions. He could not understand nor comprehend the reasons why the young lady called for him.
He’d had the fortune of meeting her from time to time, but he can’t recall any particular conversation worth remembering except for the perfunctory greeting. He’d always seen her as the little girl whose hair and eye color were unique to the northern part of the country and the little girl who was quiet and always stayed close to her mother.
Today was the first time he heard her voice properly.
Suddenly, he realized that he’d never offered his condolences to the girl himself and expressed deep regret.
“Thank you.”
Her calm response surprised him. Only a day had passed since the funeral… it was natural and and the heir apparent nominated as the next King before her father, the late King, passed away.