Thalassa and Rosalind locked eyes, neither speaking immediately. They just looked at each other. Clearly, Rosalind's eyes shimmered with defiance, slowly melting into a plea. She was silently begging Thalassa to speak, to forgive her.

Rosalind was a woman of great pride, making her apology a rare sight. Only someone as imposing as Lysander could make her swallow her pride and apologize to Thalassa. If Thalassa didn't extend an olive branch, today's standoff would be hard to resolve.

Rosalind's apology was meek, her eyes anxiously searching Thalassa's for a sign of forgiveness, but Thalassa just looked back at her with clear, unspoken eyes. Rosalind was on pins and needles, fearing Lysander's wrath again. Just as she was about to panic, Thalassa finally spoke, "It's okay, I forgive you this time. But let's not have a next time."

Lysander for his reaction. If not for Lysander's outburst,

seat, her tension easing. She instinctively looked towards the door, spotting David ushering two bodyguards out. For some reason, seeing

eat. Let's leave the unhappiness behind. Today we're celebrating Lysander and Thalassa's marriage, a joyous occasion. No

far from Thalassa, but Lysander knew it was her favorite. He spun the lazy Susan, bringing the dish to her, his voice softening, "Have some more." "Yeah,

her, Lysander was cold and sharp. But with Thalassa, his voice turned tender, almost melting. This drastic change was like a knife to Rosalind's heart, a suffocating sadness. See, that was the difference between Lysander's treatment of Thalassa and her. He defended Thalassa with icy

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