Aura believed she grasped Ronan Ashbourne, at least somewhat.
Not completely – perhaps that would never be possible – but after spending time with him, she thought she understood fragments of him.
The pattern emerged slowly, but clearly enough after time spent. He displayed sociopathic tendencies, preferred overt manipulation over direct confrontation, and derived amusement from calling her princess just to watch her bristle.
But each time she thought she had him mapped out, he revealed another layer.
And that was clear with the scene in front of her.
Ronan raised his hands in mock surrender, that infuriating smirk still carved across his face.
"Stop overreacting, princess."
The nickname annoyed her as always, scraping against her aristocratic pride like nails on a chalkboard.
