The Mad Princess and the Dying Prince novel Chapter 99

After walking a fair distance, Theron could no longer contain himself.

"Uncle Jareth, this is the first time I have ever seen you defend someone like that."

He was absolutely dying of curiosity regarding this country-raised Lady Lucia.

Jareth paused for a moment.

The woman capable of saving his life—and who had already done so once—could hardly be considered just 'someone.' While he might not be a saint, he was not entirely devoid of gratitude either.

Besides, the girl amused him endlessly. She was vastly more entertaining than those stiff, terribly proper noble ladies.

When Jareth offered no response, Theron pressed on, "Did Lady Lucia truly spend ten years in the countryside?"

"Yes."

"Does she not fear you, Uncle?"

Theron was genuinely baffled. Who would agree to marry his uncle the very moment they met?

Could it be that she was captivated by his uncle's handsome face?

Jareth shot him a sidelong glance. "What? Do you think I lack the charm to make thousands of maidens fall in love at first sight and pledge themselves only to me?"

Theron could not help but assess his uncle.

Well, it certainly wasn't impossible.

"With a face like yours, Uncle, you are naturally as radiant as the stars and the moon, entirely worthy of admiration. However," Theron grinned, "your demeanor is rather cold and intimidating. The Fourth and Seventh Princes have been terrified of you since childhood, and the female cousins all scatter like mice spotting a cat whenever you enter a room..."

"Hmm?"

"It was merely an observation."

Theron realized he had spoken a bit too freely. Seeing Jareth's brow arch, he quickly backpedaled. "Even the noble ladies who were drawn to your looks as children always ended up running away if they spoke to you for more than a moment. You must admit that everyone fears you, especially the young ladies."

Jareth had been extraordinarily handsome since he was a boy.

He had attracted no shortage of girls in his youth, but not a single one ever managed to grow close to him, for they were always frightened off.

As a result, Jareth had never cared for such women, viewing them as timid, boring, and utterly devoid of charm.

"So, Uncle, is Lady Lucia truly that bewitched by your face?" Theron asked again.

Bewitched enough to ignore his terrifying temperament?

The instant he crossed the threshold, his blazing anger miraculously cooled, replaced by the delicate, elegant scent of blooming flowers.

Alistair was momentarily bewildered. How was he noticing floral scents when he was supposed to be in a blinding rage?

He cast his gaze around the yard. It looked exactly as it always had, yet for some reason, it felt immeasurably more pleasant, exuding an air of refined grace from every corner.

At that very moment, Alistair actually regretted giving the Sunstone Pavilion to Lucia. His heart ached at the loss of such a prime estate.

"Where is your mistress?"

She had heard his voice, yet she had not come out to greet him.

This country-raised savage truly possessed no manners whatsoever!

Lucia's voice drifted out from the manor. "What are you shouting about?"

Just as the words faded, she stepped out into the courtyard.

Bathed in the golden afternoon sunlight, Alistair finally got a clear look at her face.

In just a few short days, Lucia's features were no longer gaunt and sunken. Her complexion had brightened significantly, glowing with radiant health.