The CEO Meets The Wild Princess

Amaya was opening the main door of her house when Kong jumped in front of her.

"He woke up and was startled by you? I told you to take care of him and not scare him." Amaya scolded the ape who ran away and entered the forest.

She went up to his room and found him sleeping. She noticed the mug placed on the shelf beside a strange-looking jar.

Amaya held the water bottle and studied it carefully.

"What a strange jar. It is transparent as water and very light," she said. She checked the man sleeping on the bed. His complexion had improved, and the swelling on his forehead had subsided.

"He hasn't eaten since yesterday. Let's cook him something light, Kong."

Amaya busied herself in the kitchen. She put a tinder inside the clay stove and then arranged firewood over it. She went outside and took two pieces of kindling. She pulled out the small magnifying glass from a Swiss pocket knife, let the sunlight pass through, and focused it on the kindling.

Amaya smiled when the kindling caught fire. She learned that trick from her father. She brought the lighted kindling inside the house and put it inside the clay stove. She cooked two potatoes in one pot and stewed the fish in the other. She added some herbs and a little bit of salt.

After cooking, she brought a bowl of fish stew and a plate of mashed potato to her father's room and placed them on the floor.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned closer to Marx to check the wound on his forehead.

Marx felt a presence beside him. His nostrils were also filled with a sweet fragrance he was unfamiliar with.

'Is it that ape again?' He nervously opened his eyes to stare into a pair of bright, light brown eyes that seemed to sparkle.

Amaya was startled but recovered right away.

"You are awake! How are you feeling?" She said, smiling.

Marx was mesmerized by the beautiful face before him. Was she the girl in the painting?

She spoke in Lireyan. Did they crash in Lireya? It did not make sense. Lireya was still four hours away when they crashed.

"I am feeling a bit better. What is this place?" Marx asked in broken Lireyan.

"I call this place Miraga. You seemed to have difficulty with the Lireyan language. Where are you from?" Amaya asked. She stooped down to pick up the bowl and the plate she placed on the floor.

"I am from Usturia," Marx replied calmly, studying the woman before him. She was the same woman he saw naked at the waterfalls. His face flushed when he remembered that.

"You have blue eyes!" She blurted out as if she discovered something precious. She spoke in fluent Usturia. "Do all people in Usturia have blue eyes?" She asked innocently as she moved her face closer to his and gazed into the depths of his eyes. "They are like the color of the ocean."

Marx raised his hands and wanted to push her away. But he let it drop when he realized he did not detest her. Instead, his gaze was drawn by hers.

"Majority of the people in Usturia have blue eyes. How did you know Usturian?" He asked in a surprised voice and pulled away from her gaze.

"Daddy taught me. You have to eat first. You haven't eaten since I brought you here yesterday morning."

Marx propped himself up using his elbows.

Amaya handed him the plate of mashed potato and placed the bowl of steamed fish beside him.

"I'll get water." She grabbed the mug on the shelf beside the table and hurried out of the room.

Marx started eating. He finished the mashed potato first before trying the fish. He was given a wooden spoon. Indeed, he was very hungry. When Amaya was back, he was done eating.

"This medicinal brew will help you restore your strength and heal your body. Drink it while it's hot. I put a little bit of honey to suppress the bitter taste." Amaya handed him the first mug. He accepted it and drank obediently. It should be safe because it was brewed.

"Can I talk to your father?" He asked. He saw that her eyes dimmed a little.

"Daddy went to heaven to be with Mommy three years ago." She said sadly.

"I'm sorry. How about your uncles? I need help finding my companions," Marx said worriedly.

"I don't have any uncles. I live alone."

Marx was speechless. After a long time, he said. "I have eight other people who were with me on the plane. I need to look for them. Can you help me?"

"Your wounds are still not healed and.."

"I cannot wait anymore; the longer I delay, the lesser their chance of survival." Marx cut in with his domineering voice.

That was the first time Amaya heard such a voice, and she was startled. It was the same voice she used when she exerted dominance over her pet animals.

"I am sorry." He said gently. "By the way, my name is Marx. Marx Skylar." He extended his hand to her.

Amaya accepted his hand and did a handshake. Her father said that a handshake was a form of greeting. Marx's hand was big and it fully covered hers. She shook his hands for a long time. Marx cleared his throat before withdrawing his hand.

"What is your name?" He finally asked when it was apparent that Amaya would not say her name.

"I am Princess Amaya Rocas, daughter of Ibrahim and Danaya. Nice to meet you, Marx Skylar from Usturia." She said and curtsied.

Marx was dumbfounded. 'Does she have a mental illness? Who would do an introduction like that?'

He coughed. "You can call me Marx. Can I call you Amaya?"

Amaya thought for a while before she pouted and said. "Daddy called me Aya. You can call me Aya too."

Marx's heart skipped a bit when he heard her sweet voice and saw her pout.

"Okay, I'll call you Aya," Max said gently.

Amaya's face lit up. She held both of Marx's hands and rested them on his bare chest. "How wonderful. I haven't heard my name since Daddy died and that was a long time ago." She quickly hugged him before leaving the bed.

"I'll pack some food so we can leave right away." Amaya said happily before darting out of the room.

Marx released the breath he did not know he was holding and relaxed his body which stiffened when Amaya hugged him.

"What the heck just happened?" He sniffed the air and smelt the lingering unique fragrance. The corner of his lips turned upwards.