novelraw Chapter 1374: Step by Step Drawing Near Her
Chapter 1374: Step by Step Drawing Near Her
Morgan Ashworth glanced at Rosalind, not extending his hand. He simply nodded slightly, politely and distantly, saying, "Hello, Princess."
Rosalind’s hand froze awkwardly in mid-air.
Lady Pearl’s expression changed; this man was definitely the first to ignore her daughter.
Had it been any other man approached so proactively by Princess Rosalind, he would have long been hooked and ecstatic.
Rosalind looked at Morgan Ashworth; she had spotted this handsome and upright man in the crowd at first glance. His demeanor was indifferent and noble, with a hint of disdainful arrogance. It was obvious at a glance that he was either rich or noble, a figure of extraordinary status.
Now, his indifference towards her had further piqued her interest.
"Mr. Linden, it seems your impression of me isn’t very good," Rosalind said with a gracious smile.
Morgan Ashworth slowly narrowed his eyes, "Princess, you’re not my type."
This statement was straightforward and clear.
Rosalind wasn’t angry at all; instead, she raised her eyebrows, "Then, Mr. Linden, what type of girl do you like?"
He likes...
At that moment, a commotion echoed in the ears, "The First Princess is here!"
Willow Crawford had arrived!
Morgan Ashworth looked up and saw Willow Crawford.
Today was Willow Crawford and Prince Rosen’s fifth wedding anniversary, and as a leading character, Willow had chosen to wear a long white sheer dress, the style was strappy, lightly revealing her shoulders, a simple and gentle style enveloping her graceful curves, the hem of the dress cascading onto the ground like a feather, ethereal in essence.
It is said the First Princess Willow Crawford is akin to a celestial maiden descended from heaven; her refined elegance and nobility, innate to a lady from a prestigious family, render anyone else mere dust in comparison; her presence is always half poetic, half earthly.
Love rises from the east and sets in the west, unwaveringly romantic till death.
Willow Crawford perfectly embodies this saying.
Morgan Ashworth couldn’t take his eyes off Willow Crawford now.
Four years ago, she came of age, married Rosen at eighteen, shedding her youthful innocence, adorning the sheer dress while he hovered on the brink of death struggling.
He had never seen her in a white dress.
Now, he had.
Earlier, Rosalind wondered what type of girl he likes; he likes... someone like Willow Crawford.
The graceful fair lady, a gentleman shall pursue.
Willow fulfilled all his fantasies of girls and youth.
"Sister, you’re here?" Rosalind walked over, affectionately linking arms with Willow’s slender arm.
Willow and Rosen were childhood sweethearts, thus she had known Rosalind since young, Rosalind being passionate, free-spirited, unlike her mother Lady Pearl’s treachery, she was straightforward.
Rosalind truly liked Willow, since Willow married into the family, she genuinely regarded Willow as her sister-in-law.
Whenever Lady Pearl spoke ill of Willow behind her back, Rosalind would break into a fierce argument with her mother, quite protective of Willow.
Rosalind is Willow’s last warmth felt within the royal family.
"Rosalind, weren’t you supposed to return in a couple of days? Why are you back today?" Willow asked, surprised.
"Sister," Rosalind whispered excitedly, "secretly telling you, it’s my mom who made me come back early for a blind date!"
A blind date?
Willow’s heart skipped a beat.
At this point, Rosalind pulled Willow, "Sister, look, that Mr. Linden is my blind date candidate."
"..."
Willow had clearly warned Lady Pearl that Rosalind and Morgan were unsuitable, and Morgan was extremely dangerous, advised not to provoke. Yet, evidently, Lady Pearl hadn’t listened.
Today, during her and Rosen’s wedding anniversary party, Lady Pearl couldn’t wait to concoct this blind date.
If Lady Pearl knew this Mr. Linden was actually the heir to The Merfolk Kingdom, she wouldn’t dare act so rashly.
"Sister, hurry and look at Mr. Linden, he’s so handsome and charismatic, I declare I’ve fallen in love, I want to date Mr. Linden!" Rosalind said excitedly.
Willow’s most feared scenario had occurred; Rosalind was infatuated with Morgan Ashworth.
Willow did not wish for Morgan Ashworth and Rosalind to be together. For one, Morgan Ashworth was the man she deeply loved, unable to bless his happiness with another woman.
On the other hand, she always treated Rosalind as a sister, knowing there was no possibility between her and Morgan Ashworth, she wished for Rosalind not to get hurt.
"But Rosalind, as I recall you have a new boyfriend, the one with solid muscles and a great physique, Mike."
"Sister, I’ve broken up with Mike, fortunately, I did, the best is in the next one, look at Mr. Linden’s physique, broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs, they say men with such standard body type... there is Max’s largest size."
What, what is Rosalind talking about?
Rosalind unexpectedly broached such a topic, Willow almost fell off track.
His... there...
Willow suddenly recalled five years ago when, in that rustic house, he placed a dog-tail grass ring on her ring finger, saying she was henceforth his little bride, then he led her hand downward...
She never did such a thing before, wanting immediately to withdraw her hand, yet he held it firmly, imperiously not allowing rebuttal, sweat drenched his hand.
That night, was when she and he were closest.
At that time, indeed...
Willow’s exquisite face instantly blushed.
Rosalind was still talking, "Sister, look at Mr. Linden’s fingers, heard men with such fingers are best bed partners."
"Rosalind, stop talking!" Willow swiftly interrupted Rosalind.
"Sister, why is your face so red, are you feeling unwell?" Rosalind immediately showed concern for Willow, wanting to touch her forehead.
"I’m fine."
Just as the words landed, Morgan Ashworth approached, "Princess, what are you two chatting about?"
Speak of the devil.
Willow, inexperienced in matters of romance, having just discussed such bold topics about him, her gaze was somewhat evasive, "Mr. Linden, we weren’t talking about anything."
Really?
Morgan Ashworth looked at her flushed face, a pair of evasive eyes, like a fawn dashing about, she was fibbing.
"Princess, there’s something over here that needs your handling."
"All right, I’m coming."
Willow swiftly walked out, having dealt with matters but didn’t immediately enter, standing outside letting the breeze cool her flustered feelings.
Unsure if she’s just aging or transitioning into mid-adulthood, having just addressed topics about him earlier, her legs were slightly weakened.
Willow turned, wanting to enter.
But in the next second her steps halted, for Morgan Ashworth had arrived.
She didn’t know when he had come, now he was staring at her.
Willow was momentarily speechless; Morgan Ashworth strode tauntingly close.
"Feeling amorous?" he asked in a lowered voice.