Provoking a Graceful Bloom Novel

---- Chapter 199 Mira's heart leapt violently at the sight of the figure approaching from afar. It was none other than Nathaniel, the fabled monarch of the Northern Frontier. The sunlight fell upon him, casting a halo of radiance around his form. He seemed at once dazzling and unfathomable, a presence that both awed and unsettled. Mira's breath caught, leaving her momentarily unsteady. Around him, a handful of attendants, men of unmistakable bearing, hurried forward. They greeted him respectfully and offered gestures of respect afforded to a commander of his. rank. Frederick frowned.

Those generals, who had once taken great delight in dealing with him, now greeted him with nothing more than curt nods. There was no chatter, no warmth, only a formal acknowledgment before they turned away. Yet their admiration for the Obsidian Monarch was plain for all to see, open and unmistakable. "You recently suffered a crushing defeat at Mount Iron, and a certain young lady made such a conspicuous effort to rescue you. As soldiers themselves, they naturally find it humiliating," ---- Mira said quietly. "But there is no need for you to be angry.

| know people like them, who merely admire strength. Once you win the hunt, they will flock back, eager to curry your favor again Though initially angry, Frederick found himself strangely calmed by her pragmatic, unsentimental words. Those men were nothing but flatterers and opportunists. People like them were not worth engaging. "I'm not angry," he huffed, turning away from Nathaniel's contingent and refocusing on the hunting competition with William and the others. However, Mira couldn't resist sneaking glances.

When Nathaniel dismounted from his horse, his legs looked astonishingly long and powerful. Most striking of all was that even through his trousers, one could see the strength and definition of his muscles. Yet, Mira's expression quickly darkened. For after dismounting, Nathaniel showed not the slightest patience for pleasantries. He strode purposefully toward a corner, where the contingent of the Duke of Blackmoor's household was From where Selena was seated, she could feel the icy air approaching her without even looking up. Could the Demon Lord not trouble them for once?

Had the Duke of Blackmoor's ---- household not endured enough chaos already? But when Nathaniel reached their side, Selena had already smoothed away any trace of exasperation from her eyes. Rising gracefully with her brother, she offered a polite bow, her expression gentle and composed. "Greetings, Your Highness." "Earlier, | believe | saw someone with a rather irritated expression?" Nathaniel remarked, one brow arched. She cursed him a thousand times in her heart, yet her gaze remained warm and gentle. "I can't imagine who would be so discourteous.

If you deem it fitting to seize this fellow and administer a sound reprimand, it would be most becoming to display your dignity. Otherwise, people will grow bold enough to show you disrespect." Sebastian listened beside her, utterly taken aback. There was something about Selena's words that made a chill run down his neck. "Your Highness, Lena is still young and sometimes careless with her speech. | beg you not to take offense," he hurriedly interjected. However, Nathaniel smirked with a meaningful look in his eyes.

| had thought that at Lady Campbell's age, one would hardly be ---- considered so young. Surely it is the proper time to speak of marriage, is it not?" Sebastian's face tightened. "Your Highness..." Everyone knew that Selena had only recently broken her engagement to Frederick. Sebastian had always held a certain regard for the Obsidian Monarch, along with a measure of gratitude. If he could, he would never risk souring the relationship between himself and Nathaniel. "| mean nothing untoward, so you need not worry, General Campbell.

| only think that Lady Campbell possesses such celestial grace, and | wonder which man could ever hope to be worthy of her," said Nathaniel. His eyes glimmered as he added in a louder, more pointed tone, " | wonder... might | myself be worthy?"