A sense of foreboding

While Irene sat in her seat, contemplating all that would happen once the King of Rothnia arrived, Damen observed Lyall standing beside his Uncle. The young man was oddly excited in his new sister's presence, igniting the sparks of curiosity in him.

It was love or infatuation. The man was too young. Lyall's gaze was filled with admiration and respect, something similar to how his Uncle would be whenever he spoke about the King.

Every once in a while, Lyall's gaze would turn towards Irene and Damen's brows knitted thoughtfully.

"Do you know him?" He suddenly asked Irene who was still lost in her thoughts.

"Do I know who?" Irene frowned and snapped out of her thoughts as she looked at her brother.

"The young man standing beside Uncle, the King's guard." 

As soon as Damen finished speaking, Lyall's head snapped towards them immediately and Damen raised his brows in wonder, amusement filling his eyes slowly.