<h4>Chapter 506: A journey to their past lives (2)</h4>


    <strong>The Past 1:</strong>


    "Amelie, what are you doing over there?" A soft, affectionate voice,ced with gentle exasperation, reverberated across the sun-dappled courtyard. It was her mother, standing near the entrance, holding a neatly wrapped lunchbox in a shimmering silk cloth.


    Amelie, currently perched high in the branches of the sprawling orange tree that dominated the courtyard, shouted yfully, "Mother, just a minute!"


    She grabbed thest ripe orange from a high branch before executing a nimble jump down to the soft earth. She immediately ced the newly picked oranges into a waiting basket and signaled her attendant. "We will resumeter," she instructed, referring to whatever lesson or task had been postponed.


    She rushed toward her mother and took the lunchbox from her, her smile bright.


    "Look at your dress! What have you done to it?" Her mother sighed, shaking her head. "How many times do I have to tell you to act like ady? You turned eighteen just yesterday, yet you don’t act like one. You climb trees like a reckless boy!"


    "Mother," Amelie pronounced, taking a step back with a yful grin, "I am still a child at heart."


    Amelie quickly rushed out, trying to escape her mother’s persistent worry about her future.


    "You should be able to find your mate by this age now," her mother called after her.


    Amelie turned her head, a familiar retort ready. "Maybe my mate is sleeping somewhere, Mother," she remarked yfully. "Don’t be worried. Who knows, I’ll encounter my mate today." With that final, lighthearted assurance, she hurried out of the courtyard and got into the waiting carriage before heading toward her father’s workce.


    "I wonder who my mate will be," Amelie murmured to herself, looking out of the carriage window at the bustling scene of the vibrant energy of the town. The kids were ying, vendors were selling their wares, and people were singing and dancing.


    Finally, the carriage pulled up to the Central Investigation Office. She exited the carriage and offered a cheerful greeting to the guards at the entrance, who had known her since she was very young and let her pass without question.


    "Father, here’s your lunch," Amelie announced cheerfully from the doorway of his personal office. She was immediately struck by the silence as the office was empty.


    She quietly ced the silk-wrapped lunchbox on therge wooden table. Noticing the scattered papers across his desk, she decided to tidy up, starting to gather them to put them into a neat stack.


    As she stacked the documents, a deep, unfamiliar voice interrupted the quiet.


    "Who are you? And what are you doing here?"


    Amelie quickly turned around, her heart giving a sudden thump. Standing right before her was an unknown man. Her breath caught instantly, not due to fear, but because of his striking appearance. His eyes were a shocking, intensely rare shade of violet, a color so rare and unique she had never seen anything like it before.


    For a moment, she was utterly unable to tear her gaze away from the man’s extraordinary eyes. The silence stretched between them, holding a powerful tension, until he moved, stepping right up in front of her.


    "Ah, I-I brought lunch for my father," Amelie said. "But who are you? Why-why did you enter my father’s office like this?" she questioned. <i>’His eyes are so beautiful,’</i> she thought.


    "Gabriel," the man introduced himself, his voice a smooth rumble. He paused slightly, evidently expecting his name to hold enough weight for immediate recognition. Yet, the name didn’t ring any bells in Amelie’s ears.


    "I am Amelie," she introduced herself calmly, still captivated by his gaze. "I know I must sound repetitive, but I do think you have heard this a lot of times, your eyes are truly beautiful," sheplimented genuinely.


    Before Gabriel could reply, a loud, deferential voice echoed through the doorway. "Lord Gabriel!"


    It was Amelie’s father, Norris, rushing into the room with an expression of acute embarrassment and respect.


    Amelie nced at Gabriel, a flicker of confusion mixed with surprise in her mind. <i>Lord?</i> She wondered what high rank he held to be addressed with such reverence.


    "Norris," Gabriel said, turning his startling violet eyes toward the neer. His tone was immediate and cold, cutting through the pleasant atmosphere. "I found your daughter sneaking into this office. This is not a ce for your family members toe and idle away their time."


    "Pardon me, Mister?" Amelie challenged, stepping forward slightly. "I didn’te here to idle away my time. I brought lunch for my father."


    "Forgive me, My Lord," Norris immediately interjected, his voice trembling slightly as he directed a frantic apology to Gabriel. He turned sharply to Amelie. "Amelie, stay quiet! You are speaking in front of the next King of Aurevalis," he asserted in a low, furious whisper.


    Amelie’s eyes widened instantly at the revtion. The man with the beautiful violet eyes was royalty—the man everyone feared. She bit her bottom lip, suddenly terrified that her disrespect might bring punishment down on her father. "Please forgive me, Lord Gabriel," she apologized, offering a quick, slight bow of her head.


    As she lifted her gaze, she saw Gabriel still ring at her, the cold fury in his violet eyes unwavering. Without uttering another word, Gabriel turned on his heel and walked swiftly out of the room.


    "Oof! I thought he would shoot me with his eyes," Amelie murmured, letting out the breath she’d been holding.


    "Dear, listen to me: don’t cross paths with him again. He is someone whom everyone fears, and for good reason," Norris cautioned his daughter sternly. "Now, you should go home." He offered a small, appreciative smile. "Thank you for bringing lunch for me."


    Amelie hugged her father tightly before walking out of the office. However, as she walked through the long, quiet corridor, something strange happened to her body. A sudden, sharp wave of heat washed over her, and her knees felt momentarily weak. Her head began spinning with this strange heat flushing through her body. She lost her sense of direction, and cing a hand on the nearby wall, she kept dragging herself to the front.


    "Why am I feeling like this? Is this what they call heat?" Amelie mumbled.