"Why?" Theresa was not foolish; she sensed an undercurrent in Murphy's words.
"You are not yet qualified to know, but you'll understand once you become the Crown Prince."
Murphy did not linger after speaking, turning to leave.
Theresa slumped back into her chair in defeat, Murphy's words echoing in her mind, filling her with countless doubts.
She was a princess yet still not qualified to know?
What secrets did the Seven Guardian Dukes still hold?
Suddenly, she thought of her own father. She remembered the father of her childhood, who, though only a Prince at the time, had been spirited and radiant like the blazing sun, his laughter robust and hearty.
But after he staged a coup, killing his brother to ascend the throne and being crowned, he never smiled again, and he had completely changed.
In just ten years, not yet even two hundred years old, his body had already failed him.
