As Yuna walked out of the principal's office, she came face to face with the Crown Prince. His cold, judgmental eyes landed on her.
Yuna, too emotional and unwilling to show it, tightened her expression until it became even more blank than usual—her resting bitch face reaching new heights.
Other times, Alaric would have ignored her, but this time—of all times—he grabbed Yuna's arm to stop her.
Expressionless, Yuna turned her head and spat, "Can I help you?"
Alaric averted his gaze, looking to the side as he asked quietly, "The Empire… it's troublesome. What are your thoughts? What do you think should be done?"
Ahh~
How Yuna would have loved to wrench her arm away rudely and leave, instead of consoling this child of royalty and his poorly-hidden anxiety. At least—poorly hidden to her.
She had her own worries, her own struggles at the moment. She truly wished to leave.
But…
