ASTRID felt slightly nervous at Casey's words. He hadn't expected the conversation to go in this direction. The idea that his uncle might already have an idea about White Wolf's identity caught him off guard. He kept his expression calm, but his mind started turning. Did Casey really know? And if he did, how would Astrid react to it? He wasn't sure if he was ready to dive into that topic, especially after such a long night. Still, he decided to play it cool and see where Casey was headed with this.
"Are you saying White Wolf isn't his real na?" he asked, maintaining an innocent expression.
"I'm pretty sure it's not his real na," Casey answered despite the hint of uncertainty in his words. "If I had to guess, White Wolf is probably just an online persona. And if I'm right…" He paused, as if weighing what he was about to say next carefully. "Well, the person behind it might be the only prince of the Empire."
Once again, Astrid silently thanked whatever cosmic force was watching over him that he wasn't drinking or eating anything at that mont. If he had been, he might have choked—or worse, pulled a repeat of the embarrassing incident that had ended his last life. The mory of that mont still made him cringe, and he wasn't eager to relive it, even taphorically.
He put on his best shocked and confused expression, channeling every bit of acting skill he had to make it convincing. "How could that be?" he asked, his voice laced with just the right amount of disbelief.
Casey studied Astrid's expression carefully, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to gauge whether the reaction was genuine. After a mont, he let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, right? It sounds crazy when I say it out loud. Forget I ntioned it."
Astrid forced a laugh, trying to sound as casual as possible even though he found nothing funny about the situation. "It's probably because his na is White Wolf that you thought that. It does sound like a fake na. And it's the sa as Wulf's infamous moniker. If it were really him, wouldn't he choose sothing less obvious? Sothing that couldn't be traced back to him so easily?"
Casey considered Astrid's explanation and found it made sense. At first, he'd seriously wondered if his nephew was trying to fool him, but Astrid's genuinely confused expression made him feel guilty for even suspecting it. Now, he just felt a little silly for bringing it up in the first place.
Thinking back to all the post that this White Wolf had made since creating his [Cyberspace] account, he couldn't imagine the prince writing and posting any of it. Well, maybe he could to so level. That's why he even considered the possibility of him being this White Wolf. But still, no matter how obsessed Wulf might be with Astrid, Casey doubted he'd go this far.
Creating an entire alternate account just to gush about Astrid in every post was too much—even for soone as intense as the prince. Casey couldn't imagine the prince willingly putting himself in a position where, if discovered, it would beco the most humiliating mont of his life. The thought alone was enough to make Casey dismiss the idea entirely.
He laughed again, this ti with a hint of self-deprecation. "Yeah, you're probably right."
Astrid decided it was ti to steer the conversation elsewhere. "By the way, Uncle," he began, "that flower shower at the finale walk—was that your idea?"
The question seed to do the trick, as Casey's attention shifted imdiately. "Ah, that," he said, as thinking back to that mont. "Despite what I told Oli earlier, it wasn't my idea. It was probably a last-minute addition by the show's director or soone on the team."
That made Astrid pause. The scent of jasmine seed to linger in his mory, and if Casey hadn't been the one behind the flower shower, then… He shook his head, pushing the thought aside. There was no point in overthinking it now. He could just ask Wulfric later.
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Wulfric poured himself a glass of whiskey, the rich amber liquid catching the light as he settled into his ho theater. On the massive screen in front of him, Astrid's runway walk played in stunning high definition. He'd already watched the livestream of the show, but that hadn't been enough. As soon as it ended, he'd cut Astrid's part from the footage and now had it on repeat. Watching it on his Terminal wouldn't have done it justice—he wanted every detail to be larger than life. The ho theater's surround sound and crystal-clear visuals made it feel almost like being there in person.
He watched as Aster walked down the runway, his movents full of confidence and grace. The deep crimson suit he wore fit him perfectly, the fabric catching the light with every movent, making him look like he was glowing. The long trail flowed behind him like a river of fire, adding a dramatic flair to his walk.
Aster's black hair, styled in loose waves, frad his face perfectly, contrasting sharply with his pale skin. His dark eyes, accentuated by subtle makeup, seed to pierce through the screen, even from a distance. The way the light caught his features, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw and the curve of his lips, made Wulfric's chest tighten.
He leaned back in his seat, his glass of whiskey forgotten for the mont, his focus entirely on the screen. It didn't matter how many tis he replayed it; he could watch Aster like this forever and never get tired of it.
As Aster reached the end of the runway and paused, a cascade of flower petals began to rain down, catching the light as they fell. Wulfric's lips curved into a faint smile as he watched Aster's montary surprise, followed by the way he effortlessly regained his composure. The petals added an ethereal quality to the scene, framing Aster in a way that made him look almost otherworldly.
Wulfric took another sip of his whiskey, his satisfaction evident. Watching the petals fall, he thought to himself, That turned out even better than I expected.
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