The Romantic Trials Of A Transmigrated Empress

Chapter 334

Chapter 334: A succesful re-union worth celebrating.

Roland folded the letter and put it away.

Meanwhile Sigrid was blocking out the sound of Cosmos laughing, amused by another of Lady Iryne’s letters. "Thorns are motherly! This letter will be a hit in the bank."

Those were the last words she heard Cosmos say before blocking him out completely and they stunned her. Who in the bank was reading her mother’s absurd letters? It made her feel like her life was movie being watched by immortals.

"If your mother had not written to me, I would never know that you read my poem ten times." He sighed. "All the time I put into studying poetry with Lord Givenchy have paid off."

Sigrid reached into the pocket of her cloak and brought out a small frame that could be folded.

"Here, I brought you a gift as well. It is a response to all the poems that you have written to me."

Roland accepted it and he unfolded it and read it out loud, softly.

"You are spring and I am the flowers

That’s why I can’t even see the cherry blossoms.

I am spring and you are the flowers.

That’s why you are all that I can see.

fields and

not the original author of the poem. But

came to life, flying around them for a moment before returning to the paper and folding their

will come to life for a moment and soar like the first bird’s cry after snowfall. I used some

their wings. We are butterflies, we are

arms

the butterflies. Affection overwhelmed him, love for Sigrid hit him like a

went to her, stumbling over his feet before embracing her. He lifted her

feeling that winter was over and

****

is done, the

large camp fire at the beach.

arms and started to

"Well thank goodness and whoever has contributed to this. Finally the crown prince

Roland’s meals had been coming from Little Thorin and wine had become a constant

God!" Another footman muttered, "I had never seen the Crown prince weep, not even on the day the king fell unconscious. On the first night after the crown princess left, I could have

morning of the next day. He looked half-dead and he reeked of

his face buried in his riding gloves at four in the morning. It was cold and he had no cloak on. He was sitting under one of

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