Love's Redemption

Redmption 288



I had expected Arthur to turn me away and slam the door in my face, but it seemed name—

dropping Zack had been a good idea. His charms must have worked on Arthur.

I took a deep breath and entered the room, only to see an elderly gentleman with salt-and-

pepper hair doing what appeared to be a series of stretches in the living room.

Was he Arthur?

i questioned silently in disbelief.

I had looked into him before coming here. Arthur was below 60 years old, probably around Zack's age. He looked young in pictures, but now that I had

Even if I had looked into him, I still couldn't picture Arthur as the stretching-and-light-exercises type. I couldn't help feeling like I had come to the wrong room and sought out the wrong person.

"What is it, missy?" Arthur asked, breaking the silence even as he continued his stretching. He had as good as confirmed his identity.

As for how he had ended up looking like this, I dared not make conjectures. Drawing a deep breath, I greeted, "Hello, Mr. Griffins. I'm Madeline Crown "Yes, I know who you are," Arthur said, still exercising.

I froze, and my heart leaped to my throat.

If Arthur knew who I was, did he also know why I had sought him out? Had Eden tipped him off beforehand?

As if hearing my thoughts, Arthur added, "Zack fusses over you a lot like he would a daughter. He's told me so much about you."

Relief and comprehension flooded me, but I was suddenly at a loss for words.

He prompted me again, “Go on, missy. Tell me why you're here to see me.”

Despite the exercise, he was hardly out of breath, and his voice was even.

Since entering the room, I had not seen his face, only his side profile. I willed my breathing to slow before. saying. "Mr. Griffins, I was

wondering if you remember

someone named Dominic Croel

believe you negotiated with him

I

about a collaboration over ten years ago."

Arthur did not answer me. I watched him go through another series of exercises, his movements fluid and seamless. He repeated the movements befo

He stood straight, his eyes closed as he put his hands in front of his chest and breathed out. He continued the breathing exercise in silence.

Upon getting a full view of his face, I realized he did not look that much different from the pictures I had gathered during my investigation. However, I cBelongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

The public's narrative of him did not do him justice if his face was any indication. Perhaps these years of rest had changed him.

I could tell he was adjusting his breathing after the exercise. While anxious to hear his answer, I knew better than to interrupt him.

At last, five minutes later, Arthur

slowly opened his eyes and leveled an assessing stare at me. The sharp look in his eyes sent a chill running down my spine, and my throat felt dry. Whatever words I had wanted to say curdled on my tongue.

The bodyguard standing on one side of the room came along and handed Arthur a towel. The latter took it and wiped his hands, asking. "How old are Why was he asking me about my age instead of answering?

Bewildered, I answered frankly, “24."

When Arthur was done wiping his hands, the bodyguard stepped forward and took the towel to

dispose of it. Arthur then headed toward the coffee table. A young female attendant standing nearby immediately poured Arthur a cup of téa. She also went to retrieve his blanket.

There was virtually no difference between Arthur and a real-life king. He certainly knew how to indulge!

A small sigh escaped me. I thought about Zack, whose riches did not pale in comparison to Arthur. Even he did not indulge as the latter did.

Although the Gildons had a maid, Zack did the cooking most of the time. Bree even made it a rule for him. to do the dishes and clean the kitchen once Looking at Arthur now, I couldn't help but think that Zack was little more than a peasant at home.

However, they got along fine anyway. They could go days or years without meeting up, but when they did, their conversations never ran dry.