Raised From The Wild-Chapter 434: The Trip To Albanya

As the first rays of dawn began to spill over the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the landscape, Amaya and Marx stepped out of the grand Maharlika Palace. The air was fresh with the scent of dew-kissed grass, and the early morning chill clung to their skin. They headed towards the van that would take them to the Northern Part of Verde Island, the one that Marx owned. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

The white van rolled to a stop along a narrow stretch of airstrip that hugged the shoreline. Nearby, an imposing aircraft loomed, its silhouette casting a striking figure against the backdrop of the sea and sky. Unlike any conventional helicopter, the aircraft boasted the sleek body of an airplane, yet it was fitted with two massive wings that stretched out like the arms of a giant. Perched atop each wing were whirling rotor blades, gleaming in the sunlight, while an additional rotor blade twisted at the rear, ready to propel the craft into the sky.

"Is this the latest invention of Skylar Tech?" Amaya asked, her gaze sweeping the aircraft.

"Yes," Marx answered briefly while eying their transport, pride in his eyes. This is a vertical-takeoff aircraft that can shift into stealth mode."

Amaya nodded thoughtfully, her copper brown hair cascading lightly over her shoulder as she tilted her head to glance at Marx. "I thought you were setting off for Usturia today," she remarked, her voice laced with curiosity as she strolled gracefully alongside him, their footsteps echoing softly against the cemented path.

"I’ll be taking the commercial flight from Albanya," Marx replied, his voice heavy with contemplation. Shadows danced across his expression, revealing a deep-seated turbulence beneath the surface.

Princess Amaya glanced at him but remained silent. They boarded the aircraft silently, followed by the guards and Amaya’s maid. She just brought Lilia along.

The commercial flight from Lireya to Albanya usually took three hours, but with the aircraft named VT-Apollo1, it took only one hour. During that one hour, Princess Amaya watched the scenery below projected onto a screen in front of her. She was sitting beside Marx, but Marx was so quiet that Amaya felt uncomfortable.

"Is there something wrong, Marx? You are unusually quiet." Amaya commented, her brows furrowing.

"I just missed you," Marx confessed, his voice tinged with sincerity as a shadow of melancholy settled over his features. His eyes, usually bright with determination, now held a deep yearning that spoke volumes. "Now that I can finally reclaim my identity, I dream of introducing you to my family, but alas, the timing isn’t quite right." The weight of unspoken emotions hung in the air, wrapping around them like a heavy mist.

Princess Amaya unbuckled her seatbelt. Then, in one swift motion, she embraced Marx and nestled her head against his chest. Marx was surprised at first, but then his hands started to move, running his fingers through her hair. Then he lifted her chin and crushed his lips onto hers.

He poured his longing for her into that kiss. Princess Amaya felt she was drowning. She could feel his body trembling, his heartbeat hammering into hers. After like forever, he lifted his head and brushed her lips with his thumb. "I really missed you, Aya. You know that, don’t you?"

"I know," Amaya whispered, and this time, she took the initiative to kiss him back.

Suddenly, the aircraft jolted. They had landed. Marx regretted it. He should have told the pilot not to rush and travel at a slower speed.

They landed at the Royal Family’s private airstrip.

With a heavy heart, Marx guided Amaya down the narrow steps of the aircraft, each step echoing his reluctance. His lips pressed into a tight, resolute line as his gaze fell upon the striking figures of Prince Raquim and Princess Tamara, their regal silhouettes framed against the bright tarmac. They waved warmly at Amaya, their gestures a blend of joy and expectation, which only deepened the knot in his stomach.

Marx’s gaze fell on the woman beside Prince Raquim. He tapped something on his cellphone, which instructed him to look up the woman’s identity.

"Marx, I will miss you. Take care of yourself." Amaya leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the lips. He smiled and looked at Prince Raquim smugly.

"Take care of yourself, too." Then he watched Amaya and her guards walk away from him and toward the three people at the edge of the tarmac.

Amaya turned one last time, her hand lifted in a playful wave as she caught his gaze. The warmth of her smile lingered in the air as she stepped into the sleek, tinted black van that seemed to absorb the surrounding light. He remained rooted to the spot, watching intently until the van and the cars boarded by Amaya’s guards melted into the distance.

Only when it had vanished completely from his sight did he finally turn away, making his way back to the aircraft, the hum of the airport fading behind him as he took off in the direction of Albanya’s International Airport.

...

"Welcome to Albanya, Princess Amaya." Tamara spoke with enthusiasm.

"Thank you, Tamara. How is my Godson?"

"He is very active, alternating between walking and crawling." Tamara giggled as if trying to remember something funny.

Amaya glanced at Raquim, who seemed subdued. He was seated beside Vitara. The van they were riding had four seats facing each other, and a small foldable in the middle contained a tea set and some snacks.

"Hey, Raquim. Why so silent? Trying to make an impression on Vitara?" Amaya teased. She learned earlier that Vitara was his fiancée who studied abroad and just came back.

Raquim’s expression darkened. He forced a smile before replying, "Ah, I just want you ladies to have time to chat."

Could he tell her that his heart was aching? He was jealous of seeing her so intimate with Marx earlier, but he was standing beside his own fiancée.

Life was cruel. He could not openly proclaim what he felt for the woman he loved. But if he could, would he be able to accept if Amaya rejected him?

Perhaps it would be better for him to keep his feelings buried inside and just be her friend. At least he could still be close to her and love her silently.

He felt Vitara clasping his hand. He smiled at her, but the smile did not reach his eyes.

Vitara clenched her other hand. She felt bitter inside. She knew that Raquim’s heart belonged to Amaya, but Amaya was in love with someone else.

She was determined. She was ready to stand tall and confront any obstacle in her path for the man who held her heart. Love fueled her spirit, igniting a fire that would not be extinguished.