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“…may the kingdom of Agnivale flourish under the benevolent rule of her new king, someone whom I’m proud to call a friend.”
As Olympia concluded her speech with supposedly heartfelt words, the crowd before us erupted in thunderous applause. The sound echoed through the grand hall—a symphony of approval and optimism filled the air with a palpable sense of unity and hope.
Smiles and cheers spread like wildfire among the gathered assembly, and I couldn't help but be moved by the genuine enthusiasm of the people. Their applause was not just for Olympia, but for our kingdoms’ new relationship and the promising future that lay ahead. It was a moment of shared joy and anticipation, a testament to the strength of our spirit.
With each moment in Olympia’s presence, the hesitation was chipping away. The barrier that had been built over decades apart was slowly falling to pieces.
I found myself questioning if we could rebuild what had once been lost.
Making speeches wasn’t Olympia’s strong suit. As she stood behind the marble podium on the raised dais, her fingers held a telltale tremble. But what Olympia lacked in public speaking prowess, she more than made up for in determination and sincerity. I understood her appeal to her people—unlike the Summerstream Queens before her, she waseverywoman.
Her ability to connect with the citizens of our realm was a breath of fresh air, a departure from the distant and regal demeanor that had characterized previous monarchs. Her empathy and relatability endeared her to the hearts of the people—hers and mine.
Above all, Olympia's reign promised a more accessible and compassionate rule, a departure from the past that was both refreshing and promising.
Like the crowd, I found myself captivated. Enthralled. Enchanted.
I traced the curve of her lips as they formed every word. It was a mesmerizing dance, the way her mouth moved, shaping each syllable and sentence.
Her words held a certain magic, a power to captivate and enthrall, and I found myself utterly bewitched by the poetry of her speech. It was as if her lips were weaving a tapestry of emotions and ideas, and I was fortunate to be a witness to this artistry.
But beyond the beauty of her words, it was the essence of Olympia herself that held me captive. Her presence, her sincerity, and the depth of her convictions were all laid bare in the gentle movements of her mouth. It was a moment of intimacy amidst the public setting, a silent connection that transcended words.
In that moment, I found myself more than eager to explore the depths of her mind and heart, one word at a time.
Damn it all—had this been her plan from the start? Had she intended to beguile me with her sweet lips and sincere ways? Burrow past my barriers with flushed cheeks and hesitant smiles?
I found my fingers clenched in a fist, and fought to release the deathly grip before someone in the audience picked up on it and weaved a false narrative.
As the applause died away, Olympia turned to me, extending a dainty hand.
Her eyes held a warmth that matched the sincerity of her speech, and her smile was an invitation to share in the moment.
I accepted her hand with a gentle grasp, our fingers intertwining briefly, creating a connection that transcended words. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes. The newfound understanding and camaraderie shimmered between us, and we weren’t the only ones to notice.
As Olympia looked out into the crowd, raising our joined hands in a sign of peace, my gaze lingered on her. She exuded a sense of grace and strength, her presence radiating a sense of optimism that touching the hearts of those gathered before us.
Her gesture of joined hands spoke volumes about her commitment to bridging divides and fostering harmony. It was a powerful message of solidarity.
As our hands remained intertwined, I knew that this partnership, this alliance, would be a force for positive change in our kingdoms.
A bright flash went off together with a click of a camera, and I realized the moment I’d decided to let Olympia back into my life had been captured forever.
Chapter Eight
Olympia
“Good morning, dearest.”
Cryssa’s cheery greeting roused me from a fitful sleep. Perforated images of swirling fire, and haunting echoes of husky laughter lingered in my subconscious—I fought them, unsure if I wanted to push them away or pull them close.
My lids opened just a crack as I glanced over the suite blearily, trying to place where I was. Cryssa’s voice was a familiar hook. I grasped it, pulling myself further to consciousness.
“Is it—Is it morning?” I questioned, noting the darkness on the horizon.
To my surprise, Cryssa was already dressed and sipping tea from a fresh pot on the side table. The door to our adjoining rooms was ajar, letting warm light spill through from her suite.
“Yes, it is, silly,” Cryssa said with soft laughter, setting her cup down to peek into my closet. “I told you we have an early start today.”
