Raised From The Wild-Chapter 423: The Dinner

Back at the palace, Prince Raquim had long left the pool, trading his princely robe for a casual ensemble: fitted blue jeans and a crisp white long-sleeved polo shirt, the kind that made him appear effortlessly elegant even in simplicity.

Since Princess Amaya’s departure, his interest in swimming had evaporated like the mist rising from the pool.

He now wandered along the pool’s edge, his footsteps echoing faintly in the cool evening air. With restless energy, he glanced at his watch every few moments.

"Brother, why not join me here and enjoy the hot spring? It’s much better than pacing around like a caged lion," Tamara teased from her lounging spot in the steaming pool, her tone light and mocking. "Do you know what you look like?"

Raquim stopped and turned his sharp gaze toward her, his eyes flashing a silent warning.

"You look like a husband restlessly waiting for his wife," she quipped, breaking into hearty laughter.

Raquim’s glare darkened, but he said nothing, his jaw tightening in irritation. He wanted to strangle his sister for joking around.

...

By the time Marx and Princess Amaya returned to the palace, Verde Island was shrouded in the deep hues of night. They walked side by side, silence as heavy as the humid evening air. The flickering lanterns lining the cobbled pathways cast their faces in golden light, but neither seemed inclined to speak.

From the garden, Prince Raquim’s sharp eyes caught their arrival. His gaze lingered on Marx, trying to decipher his mood, but Marx’s expression remained a stoic mask, unreadable. Raquim’s attention shifted to Princess Amaya, who wore her usual gentle, calm, composed smile, drawing one to her beauty.

Inside, the servants had already begun serving dinner. The dining table was set, illuminated by the soft glow of the scented candles. Prince Raquim sat beside Amaya’s left while Marx settled to her right.

Across from them sat Tamara, her posture exuding poise. Besides her was the ever-watchful nanny holding Kristoff.

"So, Princess, when exactly are you flying out to Albanya?" Tamara asked casually, breaking the momentary silence. My son’s birthday is in three weeks."

Marx, about to lift a piece of steak to his mouth, froze mid-motion. Three weeks. That would coincide with his mother’s birthday. He had promised his grandfather he would invite Amaya to join him.

A flash of disappointment crossed his eyes. It looked like he could not take the Princess with him to meet his grandfather.

"How about staying in Albanya for a week this time?" Tamara continued, her tone persuasive. "Last time, you were in a hurry and only stayed a night. You didn’t even have time to explore the underground river on Shabar Island."

Raquim, catching the subtle undertone of Tamara’s suggestion, gave her a discreet thumbs-up. He really has an awesome sister.

Amaya considered for a moment, then nodded. "I’ll think about it. I might stay for at least three nights."

"Come on, three nights are not enough. You should treat yourself to a proper vacation after all your hard work," Tamara said, her voice warm but insistent. "Besides, I’ve moved the grand opening of Simply Jewels to two days before Kristoff’s birthday. I know how busy you are, so I arranged a schedule that’s convenient for you."

Marx frowned slightly, her words catching him off guard. A jewelry store? Had Amaya opened one in Albanya? With a twinge of guilt, he realized that he was too preoccupied with the matters of Dark Phoenix that had left him out of touch with Amaya’s recent endeavors—especially during the months when his memory had failed him. He made a mental note to catch up with Dave for an update.

"Did you and Tamara partner on a jewelry business?" Marx asked, carefully placing a piece of fried chicken onto Amaya’s plate.

"Yes," Amaya replied, glancing at the chicken. "This is our second branch. The first was a success, so we decided to expand."

For a moment, her expression softened, her gaze lingering on the fried chicken. A fleeting memory surfaced—how much she once loved eating it with her hands like a child would. The internet even scolded her for eating without manners. She smiled at the memory.

Raquim’s voice broke the reverie. "Why are you putting fried chicken on her plate? The princess doesn’t eat it anymore. She’s more mindful of her calories and cholesterol intake these days," he said with a smug undertone.

Marx raised an eyebrow, momentarily taken aback. During his time disguised as Leon, he hadn’t had many opportunities to observe Amaya’s eating habits, and the cuisine in Uropa was worlds apart from Lireya’s.

He felt discomfort in his heart. Did Amaya really change a lot in the last two years?

"It’s fine," Amaya interjected, her voice calm. "Sometimes, I indulge and also crave fried chicken." She smiled gently and picked up the drumstick with her fork.

Marx’s lips curved into a subtle smile, his gaze flicking toward Raquim. The satisfaction in his eyes was unmistakable—his Aya had given him face, and he relished the moment.

Raquim’s fists were clenched under the table, but he kept a gentle smile.

Just then, a servant approached with a bottle of wine, pouring it with practiced elegance. Marx’s attention sharpened. There was something oddly familiar about her. Alarm bells were ringing in his head.

As discreetly as possible, he activated his cell phone , snapping a quick photo of the servant. Within seconds, he sent it to Athena for analysis. Something about her presence felt wrong, and he wasn’t about to ignore his instincts.

"Princess, would you like some dessert?" The servant asked her.

’Yes, Manna, please serve us desserts."

The maid, along with two others, came back with an assortment of desserts. Amara and Tamaya enjoyed the dessert while the two men ignored each other and sipped the wine in their glasses.

"You haven’t answered me yet, Princess. When are you flying out so I can make preparations?" Tamara was persistent. She steered the topic back to her question.

Manna who was standing at safe distance from the table, suddenly snapped and paid attention.

"Hmm. Since you insist, I will stay there for five days and I will arrive Sunday of that week."

Prince Raquim’s lips curled up. He already had in his mind what day he will propose to the Princess.