Thalassa was glued to her tablet screen, her gaze locked on Lysander's strikingly handsome face through the digital barrier, staring into his deep, mysterious eyes. Despite knowing that Lysander was about to marry Rosalind, Thalassa couldn't help but wonder if Lysander truly liked Rosalind.

At that moment, under the watchful eyes of the public, Lysander's gaze, as unfathomable as a black hole capable of consuming Thalassa's soul, fixated on the camera. He parted his lips slightly and finally spoke, "This is a matter between us, it's none of anyone else's business." His voice, low and magnetic, carried an immense deterrence, leaving his statement ambiguously impactful and silencing any further curiosity.

The reporter, somewhat disheartened, retracted the microphone, "Wishing Mr. Sinclair and your future wife a lifetime of happiness." Then, the camera shifted away to Joshua, continuing the interview elsewhere.

was cut off, Thalassa felt like her soul had been set free, her heart skipping a beat as she was jolted back to reality, her breathing instinctively quickening. "This Lysander, still so arrogant. Why couldn't he just answer the reporter's question directly?" Hertha, disappointed, grabbed the tablet and turned it off, "Enough of this, what's the point? The Whitman and the

"Thalassa, there are plenty of good men out there. Lysander's loss,

hand, wiping her face as if to erase the sadness. "Right, Lysander's marriage is his business. By the way, how are things with you and Alaric?" Thalassa changed the subject, not wanting to dwell on Lysander and Rosalind's impending marriage any longer. "Alaric's been acting like he's got cold feet. It's been days with no word from him. My mom even thought it would be a good test for him, but I bet after he returned to the Falconer's, he just doesn't want to leave!" Hertha finished her rant, grabbing a glass

Thalassa suggested, understanding Hertha's mood wasn't much better than her own. "Sure, let's turn our sorrows

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