"Okay, see you again soon."
Mira cupped his face and kissed him deeply, without a hint of shame despite the crowded port. When she finally pulled away, she gave him one last look—half playful, half possessive—before turning toward the elderly butler waiting for her.
The old man's brows were already drawn together, but when Mira leaned in again and gave Elion a quick peck on the lips, his expression darkened further.
His sharp eyes scanned Elion from head to toe, taking in the plain clothes, the lack of visible insignia, and the weak-grade aura he was currently projecting.
He said nothing.
But it was obvious he disapproved.
Elion could practically see the future troubles thanks to the thoughts being written in that man's mind.
A similar look rested on the faces of the three well-dressed stewards waiting to the side for Aria. Their posture was impeccable, and their expressions controlled, but the way they looked at Elion was clear enough.
