Chapter 1072 The Girl In the Oil Painting
Inside the king’s bedroom in Luna Palace, Cynthia stayed by Mikhail’s side. Among Mikhail’s three wives, she was the one who spent the longest time with him and watched how he ascended the throne. Naturally, she understood him the best.
As the stern-looking Mikhail sat frowning on his bed, he exuded an aura that repelled anyone who came close. When Cynthia approached him from behind, thinking to give his head a massage to help him relax, he grabbed her hand before she could reach him. “Your Majesty?”
“I don’t need you to give me a massage.” Mikhail turned around and gave Cynthia a cold stare. Thinking about Natalie’s appearance that evening, Cynthia felt as if she had been stabbed right in her heart. “Your Majesty, I suppose your frustration must have something to do with the girl instead of Prince Jonathan’s marriage…”
Her resemblance to that woman is extremely uncanny. All this while, Cynthia was the most magnanimous among his three wives.
Nonetheless, that wasn’t her true nature, for she knew better than anyone else who Mikhail truly cared for. It wasn’t her, Frieda, or even Shirley. Mikhail first crush was someone other than them.
Upon hearing Cynthia’s words, Mikhail gradually tightened his grip on her wrist, to the extent of crushing her bones. At the same time, his eyes glistened with a bone-chilling iciness.
“Get lost!”
Instead of screaming in pain, Cynthia simply sneered, “Tsk…”
Just as expected. Is that woman, or anyone who’s related to her, the only person who has a hold on this man’s heart?
No sooner had Mikhail told Cynthia to get lost than he shoved her hand aside. After staggering backward, she had no choice but to leave with a sorrowful heart.
Upon Cynthia’s departure, Mikhail got up from his bed and flicked what looked like a switch for the wall lamp.
Following the sound of a click, a secret room of more than twenty square meters was revealed on the north wall of the royal bedroom. As Mikhail walked routinely in, he was greeted by an exquisite-looking oil painting that hung on the wall.
Within that painting was a young girl, who was wearing a rattan basket on her back, kneeling among the bushes. She was carrying an adorable little rabbit in her arms.
With her innocent smile and glistening eyes, the beauty she exuded made it difficult for anyone to peel their eyes away.
This woman called Natalie… shares the exact same smile as the girl in the picture. Isn’t she supposed to be dead? How did she have children? If that woman is really her child, wouldn’t it make me her father?
Approaching the oil painting step by step, Mikhail couldn’t resist reaching out to run his fingers over the girl’s face as he murmured, “Back then, you were so desperate to escape from my side. I… Am I really her father?”
The look in his eyes and the tone of his voice reflected nothing but longing for her.
At that moment, he no longer looked like the king who ruled over a country.
By the time it was eleven, Jerome drove Natalie back to her home.
Upon their arrival, Emma and the five children were already asleep. Only then did Natalie return to her room in relief.
Even though what happened that night was beyond her wildest imagination, she didn’t regret her decision and neither felt as if she had owed either Bastien or Helma. After all, she never took what didn’t belong to her. Instead, she made her rejection clear and didn’t leave room for any misunderstanding.
On the contrary, the evening’s events caused an uproar within the Leitz family.
Geert waited till the banquet had ended before returning home.
With a sullen expression, he furrowed his brows so intensely that wrinkles could be seen.
The moment the teary-eyed Helma saw Geert, she came forward and inquired, “Father, since I haven’t heard His Majesty decide upon Natalie and Bastien’s marriage, does it mean that my engagement with him still stands a chance?”
