The Promise Of Happiness

Chapter 1192

King narrowed his eyes at Bastien's words and shot Mikhail a look, curling his lips into a sneer. “I thought your son was like you, Mikhail, but I was mistaken. On the contrary, he has more guts than you!” Belongs © to NôvelDrama.Org.

Mikhail shot to his feet.

“Whether you're Geert or not, the target of your revenge is me, so leave Bastien and the others out of this,” he asserted loudly. “I will not give you the throne, but I will offer you my life.”

King scoffed at that.

“How much is your life worth?” He laughed maliciously. “I can make you wish you were dead.”

“You—”

“You should know, Mikhail, that Jennie did not perish in that fire back then.”

“What did you say?”

A look of alarm dawned on Mikhail's face, and he seemed more panicked than when he was informed there would be a change in the monarchy.

“Jen... She isn't dead... Where is she now if she isn't dead?”

“I found out later that she used the fire as a cover to escape Loang. She then moved to live under a false name in Chanaea,” King replied expressionlessly.

Mikhail let out an ill-timed laugh.

My Jen is still alive. She did not die in that fire!

No one knows this—Yes, I eliminated all obstacles during my climb to the coveted throne and fulfilled what I wanted, but it's lonely at the top, and I have spent many nights regretting my decision in the past.

I never wanted the throne in the first place. I only wanted the female doctor gathering herbs in the mountains.

Her coy smile and expressiveness made her beautiful like a fairy.

She had a righteous streak and would stand up against injustice to the best of her ability without a word of complaint.

My Jen is still alive!

Thank God she is still alive. I will do everything in my power to make it up to her.

“Tell me where she is now. Is she okay? How can I find her?” Mikhail's eyes reddened, and he abandoned any notion of having the Loang crown. All he wanted was to be an ordinary man and be with the woman he loved.

At this point, the country and its citizens were the last things on his mind.

“Well, Mikhail, I am sorry to say this, but Jennie died eight years ago from an illness in Chanaea,” King said with mournful eyes. “How disappointing could you have been that she chose to leave her birthplace, hide her real name for more than ten years, and never once looked for you before her death?”

Died... Eight years ago?

Mikhail looked like he had been struck by thunder, the whites of his eyes colored blood-red with burst vessels.

What little hope he had allowed himself to feel—thinking he had been given another chance—was unceremoniously crushed into nothing.

Natalie, who was close by listening in on the conversation, was stunned.

Eight years ago.

Is that not the year Mom passed away?

There was a glint in her eyes, and a sense of foreboding crept into her senses, lurking in the shadows as if something was about to break free from under the obscured surface.

Samuel felt her small body slowly tensing until every muscle was drawn taut like a bow.

“Don't think about it,” his low voice murmured in her ear. “He could be playing a trick, or it could just be a coincidence.”

However, the disquiet still lingered in her heart.

The feeling was as if countless claws were scratching at her chest, hurting and itching her.

Samuel tightened his arms around Natalie, knowing his words of comfort did not help alleviate her anxiety. Never in his life would he let her go, no matter who she was or her identity.