Max pulled the reins of his horse, slowing his pace as he approached the palace. The cold wind brushed against his face, but his mind was in turmoil. The same thought kept circling in his head—what if people were blaming him? What if they saw him as the reason behind the girl’s injury? He had saved her life, but wasn’t it his fault that she had gotten hurt in the first place? The very thought made his heart pound faster.
The grand gates of the palace were now within sight. But just as he was about to move forward, his eyes caught sight of a small gathering near the entrance. His hands tightened around the reins as he recognized them. The girl he had rescued stood there, her head wrapped in clean white bandages. Beside her was a woman—her mother, most likely. And a few steps away, talking to them, was Herry.
Max suddenly felt uneasy. Were they speaking ill of him? Were they telling Herry that everything was his fault? His first instinct was to turn away, to disappear once more into the forest where no one could see him. But before he could make a move, the girl lifted her head and caught sight of him.
"Prince Max!" she called out.
Max’s breath hitched. The doubts and fears that had been suffocating him froze for a moment. The girl took a small step forward, her expression softening.
"Thank you," she said gently.
Max stared at her, unable to speak. He had expected blame, but instead, he was met with gratitude.
Her mother stepped forward next, bowing her head. "Please forgive me, Your Highness. When my daughter was injured, I lost all hope. I thought no one would help. But you… you saved her life. And yet, I doubted you. I was wrong."
Max didn’t know how to respond. He had been preparing himself for accusations, not apologies.
"You don’t need to apologize," he finally said, his voice steadier than before. "I only did what was necessary."
Herry, who had been silently observing, placed a firm hand on Max’s shoulder and grinned. "Necessary, yes. But not everyone would tear off a royal cloth to save someone’s life. That was all you, Max."
Max felt a strange warmth rise to his ears. He wasn’t used to such praise, especially from Herry. He shifted uncomfortably but didn’t argue.
The girl’s mother wiped a tear from her eye. "May the gods bless you, Prince Max," she said sincerely. "You have given me back my daughter. I will never forget this kindness."
Max looked at the girl once more. She was still smiling at him, her eyes filled with appreciation and respect. And in that moment, something within him changed.
Max's heart filled with a strange, warm hum the moment he saw her smile. As his gaze lingered on the gentle curve of her lips, it felt as if a soft melody had started playing inside him. For a second, time seemed to pause, and then suddenly, his heart began to race, as if someone had awakened a restless longing within him. He was lost in that moment, as if nothing else mattered—only her smile.
Max's heart was pounding, but his lips remained sealed. Whatever was happening inside him was too difficult to put into words. His heart urged him to say something, but his mind held him back.
For a moment, he clenched his fists, then took a deep breath and looked at his soldiers. He stole one last glance at the girl's smile, as if engraving it into his memory, before speaking in a calm, steady voice:
"Escort them safely back to their home."
His voice was quiet yet firm, betraying none of the turmoil within him. No one could have guessed the storm raging in his heart. He had said what needed to be said and then slightly turned his face away, as if nothing had affected him. Yet deep inside, his heart still echoed the rhythm of that smile he had seen.
The soldiers bowed in acknowledgment and moved to escort the mother and daughter. The girl hesitated for a brief moment, as if she wanted to say something, but Max didn’t look at her again.
Herry glanced at Max with a knowing smirk, as if he understood exactly what was going on in his friend’s heart. But Max remained still, keeping his emotions locked away where no one could see them.