Thalassa was wrapped up in blankets, stewing in her own frustration. The words Rosalind had said, coupled with the memory of Lysander mentioning how much she resembled Harper three years ago, clogged her heart with irritation. The more she thought about it, the angrier she got.

So caught up in her own thoughts, she didn't hear the knocking at first. Lysander stood at the door, knocking a few times without any response, not waiting for Thalassa to let him in. He turned the knob and entered the room, his eyes scanning for her. Not seeing her immediately, he felt a wave of worry. His gaze finally settled on a bulky shape under the covers on the bed. Spotting the legs sticking out, his worry eased.

He walked over, standing by the bed with a low, magnetic voice, "Still upset?"

His voice breaking the silence startled Thalassa, who quickly threw the blankets off and turned to face the tall figure standing before her bed. His presence was noble, exuding a natural authority. Recognizing Lysander, her initial shock eased. Seeing him brought an involuntary smile to her face, but then the troubling thoughts returned, and her joy was quickly replaced by gloom. She sulkily lowered her gaze, murmuring, "Who would dare to stay mad at you?"

Turning away, she lay back down in a show of disinterest. No sooner had she settled than she felt his broad chest cover her, his warm breath tickling her cheek.

"I was wrong earlier. Hearing about

the license,

needed to say that women hate feeling neglected, especially by

concluded he

making

years in the

had trained him to keep

in his personal life, leading to misunderstandings with Thalassa. Realizing his

Lysander promptly apologized.

little, but also eased her frustration slightly. She was easily softened, especially by Lysander, whom she deeply cared about. His few words were enough to pacify

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