The Queen and the Lion - Chapter 65
At Aslan’s nagging, Lysian pouted slightly but didn’t retort. Instead, Aslan quietly took her hand in his. The firm grip of his hand caused Lysian’s face to flush a bright red.
Hand in hand, they continued walking and soon arrived at the village.
It seemed as though everyone had left their homes to gather in the square, as the streets were packed with people. True to Florea’s reputation for beauty, the villagers—young and old, men and women alike—were all strikingly attractive. However, no matter how far one searched across Florea, none could match Lysian’s beauty, of that Aslan was certain.
In the bustling crowd, Aslan pulled Lysian closer to his chest, ensuring he wouldn’t lose her.
“There are so many people here.”
“That’s because they’re all enjoying the festival.”
Having been born a queen, Lysian had never experienced anyone blocking her path. For someone like her, weaving through a thronging crowd was undoubtedly a difficult task, yet her lips curved into a gentle smile, forming a crescent.
“It’s lively, and I like that. But we should find a shop to sit in,” Aslan suggested, considering Lysian’s condition. She wasn’t used to walking for long periods, and although the capital’s roads were well-maintained, they were nothing compared to the palace grounds.
Lysian seemed to agree, nodding quietly. Originally, her plan was to leisurely stroll with Aslan while showing him Florea’s festival and the sights of the capital, but the unexpectedly massive crowd threw her plans off course.
Aslan looked around, scanning their surroundings for a suitable place. His gaze moved over the village, searching for a decent shop. However, due to the festival, every shop seemed packed with people. Clicking his tongue in frustration, Aslan continued to search.
As his tall, broad figure stood out, it quickly drew attention. A young waitress from an apple pie shop, the innkeeper’s daughter out to promote her tavern, and several other women vied to call out to him.
“Oh my, handsome man over there! Why don’t you come in?”
“We’ve got plenty of food. Though all of them were undoubtedly beautiful, Aslan was simply relieved to find places with available seats.
Now that he thought about it, Lysian had mentioned wanting to try apple pie earlier. A bright smile spread across his face. Pointing to an apple pie shop, Aslan turned to Lysian.
“How about that place? It looks pretty good.”
“No.”
To his surprise, Lysian’s response was cold and curt.
With a sharp turn of her head, her expression appeared strangely frosty, a stark contrast to her usual demeanor. Perplexed, Aslan wondered if he had misunderstood something. He pointed to another shop and asked again.
“Then how about that one?”
“No.”
Lysian remained stubbornly negative. Her expression grew sulkier as she firmly shook her head. Unsure of what to do, Aslan asked hesitantly.
“Where would you like to go, then?”
“There’s nowhere I like.”
Uncharacteristically, she continued to grumble. Since Lysian wasn’t typically this picky, even someone as oblivious as Aslan quickly realized that something was off. She was clearly upset about something, though he couldn’t figure out what.
“Why are you suddenly so upset?”
“Angry, you say?”
“You seem angry to me.”
At Aslan’s firm response, Lysian pursed her lips in frustration.
She abruptly grabbed Aslan’s arm and began striding forward with wide steps. Worried that her sudden haste might cause her to trip, Aslan wrapped his free arm protectively around her as they walked.
As they passed through the crowd, other women kept calling out to Aslan—”handsome” this and “young man” that—vying for his attention. Even during a festival, such aggressive solicitation suggested how hard life must be for them. While taking note of a few promising shops to visit once Lysian’s mood improved, Aslan focused on her.
Eventually, they made it out of the bustling square, and the noise started to subside. The once-crowded streets became calm enough to count the passersby.
Aslan followed Lysian’s lead without a word until she came to a sudden stop after walking briskly for some time.
Whether from the exertion or embarrassment at her outburst, Lysian’s face was flushed red. She muttered under her breath.
“…All those women kept calling out to you.”
“It was just solicitation.”
