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FMH [117]

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Episode 18: Secretly…button (4)

T/N: Missed one post last week 🙂

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Aristine got off the carriage and looked around the training hall with interest.

‘It’s a lot bigger than I thought.’

It was on a completely different level and scale from the training hall in Silvanus.

It was a much larger plot of land to start with, and there were several buildings, plus the use of the training grounds seems to be more segmented.

In Silvanus, the training hall was integrated into the Imperial palace, but even though this was a Prince’ training hall, she didn’t think the scale would be so different.

‘To be fair, this is Tarkan’s palace, not some other prince.’

A majestic building which seemed like it would smell like iron, stood in the middle of the site.

As Aristine was about to step inside, she saw people coming out of the building.

The face of the person in front was familiar.


Tarkan looked at Aristine’s appearance and paused.

With summer drawing closer, the afternoon sun was more dazzling by the day. Aristine’s figure standing underneath was especially vivid and clear.

The sun rays glistened through her silver hair akin to lilac flowers, and her exposed arms were dazzlingly white.

The golden belt, arm ring, body chain, translucently colored jewels, and silk that flowed naturally along her curves. Everything fit Aristine perfectly.

The wind, carrying the scent of late spring and the freshness of early summer, blew through her long hair, scattering it.

Tarkan noticed that the warriors, even the ones watching from a distance, were all mesmerized with his wife.

His forehead creased.

“What is the matter?”

Tarkan asked as he walked up to Aristine.

His gaze moved to the court ladies standing behind Aristine. They were carrying a basket and a box made of velvet.

He wasn’t sure about the velvet box, but he was certain about the basket. She must have brought dessert after having lunch. So they could eat together.

A corner of Tarkan’s lips raised.

“Oh, am I interrupting? I heard it was lunch time.”

Aristine asked, concerned.

She was concerned because Tarkan’s expression as he approached wasn’t that great.

“You’re not really interrupting. There’s still a lot of time left.”

There was no time left at all. Lunch time was practically over.

All the warriors looked at Tarkan with disbelief. Seeing his expression as casual as ever, they began to doubt their own eyes and ears.

“There is? Thank goodness.”

Aristine smiled. The sun seemed to gently stroke her cheek.

“Then I will borrow someone for a bit.”

Hearing that, Tarkan’s left brow jumped.

‘…She’s borrowing someone?’

He didn’t expect to hear that at all.

“Sir. Mukali.”

Aristine flashed a delighted smile at Mukali, who was standing behind Tarkan.

“Princess Consort.”

Mukali took a step forward and bowed slightly towards Aristine. He reflexively returned the smile but inwardly, he was sweating.

‘Why, Why is it me in this situation…’

It’s not that he was unhappy to see Aristine. He was also very happy to see her since it had been a while.

‘But the situation right now…’

No matter how tactless Mukali was, even he knew. Because he felt like he was about to be set aflame by his lord’s stare.

“It has been a while.”

“Yes, it has been a while. That makes me glad as well. I doubt you have anything with me then.”

There was no business with him. There must be none.

Those internal pleas were omitted from the sentence. Mukali signaled Aristine with his eyes.

‘Please say you’re here to see my lord! If not, I, Mukali, will die!’

But Aristine easily shook her head.

“No? I came to see you though?”


Mukali’s throat felt tight under Tarkan’s gaze. It wasn’t just a feeling, it felt like there was some kind of physical power in Tarkan’s gaze that made it hard to breathe.

The warriors who were watching this scene shrunk back and slowly studied Tarkan’s reaction.

Only Aristine was smiling brightly and walked closer to Mukali.

“I brought some dessert too. You can look forward to it. Let’s eat while we talk.”

“Um, Princess Consort.”

“And there is something I want to show you, Sir Mukali.”

Aristine stood on her tiptoe and lowered her voice to whisper that to Mukali.

Naturally, Tarkan’s gaze burned even hotter.

Mukali felt himself burn into ashes and scatter with the wind.




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12 thoughts on “FMH [117]”

  1. Bahahaha🤣😂🤣😂🤣😂🤣😂
    Mukali “👀😥😢😕🤐🥵”
    Ari “What’s wrong you look sick”
    Mukali worries about his eggs…😭🤧😭🤧

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