Sophie Sullivan dressed in a very charming Bohemian long skirt and a wide-brimd white sun hat. At Thomas Shannon’s request, she had applied a thick layer of sunscreen lotion to her exposed fair skin and cheeks beforehand.
Thomas Shannon was in casual clothes: khaki-colored trousers and a white textured T-shirt, which softened his usual cold and imposing air sowhat.
He looked just like a handso, noble, and graceful youth.
Charlie River and the man in black followed close by, protecting them and keeping the dense crowd at bay.
Sophie Sullivan linked her arm with Thomas Shannon’s. From the mont they stepped into this city, she noticed that the staircases, stairs, walls, door panels, windowsills, easels, mailboxes...
Everywhere her gaze fell, everything was painted blue.
There was sky blue, navy blue, lake blue, Prussian blue—from the smallest grain of sand to an entire wall.
"What’s that?" Sophie Sullivan pointed to a little stall not far away, eager to go take a look.
Thomas Shannon smiled, willingly letting her pull him quickly towards the little stall.
The stall sold small leather bags, Moroccan traditional clothing, various life necessities, and traditional handicrafts.
The stall owner, a Moroccan, welcod them with a warm, beaming smile.
Sophie Sullivan touched a brightly colored scarf and then so traditional clothing. Thomas Shannon turned his head and whispered a few words to Charlie River.
Charlie River took out his wallet, pulled out a wad of money, and handed it to the stall owner.
"Take whatever you like," Thomas Shannon said, one arm around Sophie Sullivan’s slender waist, his tone domineering yet with an almost imperceptible doting fondness.
Sophie Sullivan’s lips curved. "Have I run into a gold buyer?"
"You can think of it that way."
"That one, that one, and that one... I don’t want these few, but I’ll take all the rest." Sophie Sullivan tilted her head up, smiling at Thomas Shannon with narrowed eyes. "Is that okay, my big gold buyer?"
Thomas Shannon nodded.
Charlie River imdiately instructed the man in black to take all of it.
After spending the afternoon wandering through the blue city and enjoying a delicious al full of local flavor, the group returned to the hotel.
Relaxing like that also took energy. When Sophie Sullivan returned to the hotel, she flopped lazily onto the sofa, not moving an inch.
"You’re covered in sweat. Go take a bath," Thomas Shannon said, giving her a nudge.
Sophie Sullivan lay still. "I’ll rest for a while and take a bath later."
Seeing how truly exhausted she looked, Thomas Shannon didn’t press her further.
He went to the bath chamber himself and took a bath.
When Thomas Shannon finished his bath and stepped out of the bath chamber, Charlie River approached, lowered his voice, and reported on public affairs.
Thomas Shannon’s handso face darkened. "Wait for in the study room."
"Yes, Young Master." Charlie River turned and went to the study room.
The man, wearing a bathrobe, approached the sofa. He glanced at Sophie Sullivan. "Take a bath later and rest early. Tomorrow, we’re going to the Sahara Desert."
"The desert?" Sophie Sullivan jolted and sat bolt upright, shocked.
She was utterly astonished. "Thomas Shannon, you can’t be serious! Why on earth would we go to the desert?"
Thomas Shannon rely smiled without a word and turned to leave.
"Thomas Shannon..."
Sophie Sullivan called out, but it didn’t stop Thomas Shannon’s steps.
She sighed, grabbed a nearby cushion, and punched it twice in frustration. What was so great about the desert anyway?
Was he planning to show her cacti?
Or were they going to search for an oasis?
Harry, who had been taken for a bath by the man in black, had his fur blown out until it was incredibly fluffy, making him look even more rotund.
The tabby marking on his head looked particularly majestic.
He stretched his limbs, galloped over to Sophie Sullivan’s side, and leaped deftly into her embrace, sprawling comfortably.
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