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Tang Junhe was slightly dazed, his heart seemed to stop beating, he knew he couldn't hide anymore, he straightened up, took off his mask to reveal his whole face, tried his best to calmly raise his eyes to look at Yang Xuan, but when his eyes touched, he quickly dropped them again Eye: "More than ten years."

After a moment of silence in the ward, Tang Junhe took a deep breath almost inaudibly, and brought the atmosphere back on track: "The postoperative healing is good. Don't smoke wi ...

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Ayleth, Princess of Zenithra, is secretly trained in hand-to-hand combat, and collects swear words she doesn't know how to use. During the Festival of Peace, in which every royal son on the continent will be at the castle for a month, she is instructed by her parents to find a husband. Yet, Ayleth has never even been kissed—until the very first ball, when she meets the man in the Lion mask.

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“You…” She stepped back. Then back again, her mouth dropped open. “You… You cannot be…”

“I am,” Etan said, and his hair raked back as he pushed his mask off his handsome face. So handsome her heart raced.

His hair was ebony black, his skin a warm brown that threatened to fade in in the winter months. He stared at her with glittering green eyes, over high cheekbones and a noble nose, his jaw tight and shadowed this late in the day. His chin was high over the pillar of his neck that she’d just touched with its hard lines and steel strength, so different to her own. And his chest... She gasped and covered her eyes. She’d humiliated herself revealing her stupid, childish curiosity.

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