"Little Princess, look at me."
On the first day he met the Little Princess, Young Master Stan dreamed of her.
He held her in his arms and whispered in her ear.
Look at me. Look at me, and only at me.
Selfishness stirred in his heart, slowly taking root and sprouting.
The day Miyasixing tied that red cord around the Little Princess's wrist, he knelt on one knee and kissed the back of her hand.
"Little Princess, a knight will bow his head for you," he said reverently, lowering his proud head.
His Little Princess was gentle, beautiful, and kind, like a delicate doll.
For the first time, Young Master Stan entertained an evil thought.
On the day foretold by the prophecy book, Miyasixing held the Little Princess tightly, trying to make her pity him, feel sorry for him, and finally abandon that so-called mission.
"Miyasixing, the mission of the Naya Princess is very important to me. You are a Moe Knight, and I am the Naya Princess. This is our mission."
Then she slowly pried his hands away, step by step, and finally disappeared from his sight.
"Have you been well these past few days?"
"Do you even care?" He petulantly turned away, refusing to look at her, but she caught his hand.
"You can read my mind. Then you'll know how much I care."
"Miyasixing, all these days as I drifted from place to place, I thought of you every day. So, have you been well?"
All his little sulks melted into grievance. He rested his head on her shoulder and cried like a helpless child.
"I haven't been well. Every second without you has been awful."
