You are mine

[Trigger warning: the chapter contains details that can cause discomfort. Not advisable for ages 17 and below.]

In Fil's dream were a woman and a man, wearing fancy yet royalty-style clothing. She couldn't see their faces clearly, but the way they were speaking and their build was enough for her to assume they were royalties. 

"Answer me, Crown Princess." The man's voice was low and harsh, one that could raise a sense of trepidation.

However, Latrice's calmness remained. "Which question does require an answer, Your Highness?"

Quentin clasped his hands as bitterness shone in his eyes. He came to confront Latrice after spending a day denying what he had noticed for the entire visit of the Duke of the South. What she was giving him in return, however, was the same neutral treatment she was giving everyone else except Jackson.