Chapter 256
Chapter 256
Daran didn’t realize that this child’s eyes looked just like his.
He simply found this boy the cutest child that he had ever seen.
The boy was a bundle of adorable with his round little face that boasted irresistibly puffy cheeks.
His grey eyes, framed by long, dark lashes, sparkled with a gorgeous glint.
There was a softness to his features, from the gentle curve of his button nose to the way his eyebrows arched.
Daran felt his heart melting away as he asked again, “Hey kid, where are your parents?”
The child flashed his big eyes and said, “I don’t know…probably at home.” Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.
So a run–away kid, Daran thought.
“Then why did you run away from home? Did you fail a test or something?”
“No.” The child puffed his little chest, looking very proud. “I never fell at exams. I am the top one in my class!”
Daran couldn’t help but smile, “Then why? They would be worried sick knowing that
you are starving yourself like that out there.”
The boy’s shoulder slumped. He suddenly looked very glum.
“No, I don’t think they would be worried.” the kid said, pouting. “My parents are
won’t even look for me. They don’t care that I am gone.
Daran frowned.
His anger flared.
What kind of
Parents would allow such a lovely child to leave home alone? These people…they were not cut out to be parents. Shame on them.
Daran cleared his throat and sat down on the curb side–by–side with the child.
His tailored pants got stained and his shiny shoes were in the mud.
But he didn’t seem to care about it at all.
“Are you hungry?” he asked the boy.
The boy hesitated and nodded.
“…I haven’t eaten in 3 days,” he said in a frustrated, soft little voice. Daran gritted his teeth. Those goddamn parents deserved to burn in hell!
He pulled out his wallet and took out all the cash. There was about 300 to 500 dollars.
“Here. Take this.” he handed the cash to the child, “Buy yourself a nice meal and then go home. You can’t live on the street like this. It is too dangerous. If your parents continue to ignore you, call the police for help.”
The child stared at the money in his hand.
Yet to Daran’s surprise, he didn’t take it.
“Why would I want your money?” asked the child, looking perplexed.
“You need money to buy stuff like food. Have your teachers taught you how to buy things in stores?”
The boy’s face turned an angry red.
“I know what money is for. I am not a kindergartener!” he protested, “But I won’t take your money. It is charity. A true noble doesn’t accept people’s charity.”
Daran’s raised an eyebrow in amazement.
“A true noble? You?” he repeated.
“Yes. Me.” the boy raised his head very proudly, “You may call me the prince.” Daran couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
To him, this was just a little child’s fantasy, picturing himself as the prince. Yet Daran had got to admit to it though–the child did have some spines.
Earlier when all the other homeless swamped up to his car like a bunch of flies, only this kid remained sitting on the curb, holding on to his last thread of dignity.
“What are you laughing at? Everyone else in my family calls me the prince!” the boy protested.
Daran stopped laughing.
uspeloqu your highness If you don’t
He rubbed the boy’s soft chestnut hair, “My apology, your highness. If you don’t want my money, what else do you prefer?”
The boy cleared his throat, “I…I can grant you the privilege to buy me a big burger.” His eyes flickered to the burger joint across the street.
Daran laughed again, “A burger, some fries, and a huge ice cream. How does that sound?”
The boy swallowed. His eyes twinkled.
“And milkshake!” he added eagerly.
Daran chuckled, “I believe we have a deal, your highness.”
He offered his hand to the boy.
The boy took his hand and jumped up to the curb, a huge grin on his puffy face. They crossed the street holding hands and went into the burger joint together.
The woman behind the counter took their order.
She first took a look at Daran and then back at the kid, smiling, “Sir, you have a very lovely kid.”
Before Daran could say anything, the boy spoke up in a very serious voice, “No. He is
not my dad. My dad is the King.”
Daran and the woman started laughing together.
Because they all thought the child was joking.
Seeing that they didn’t take him seriously, the boy pouted.
He tiptoed holding onto the counter and said to the woman, “Can I get extra mayonnaise for my burger?”
“Of course, you can, my little prince.” the woman giggled.
When the food was ready, Daran took the tray and led the child to sit in a booth.
The child was indeed starving.
He grabbed the burger and took a huge bite, his cheeks stuffed by the food.
Yet as hungry as he was at the moment, he still remained in an excellent table
manner.
He didn’t make any sound while chewing.
And he made sure that he didn’t get crumbs and sauce onto his clothes.
… Maybe the kid did come from a very good family. Daran thought.
“What is your name, boy?” he asked.
“…Aspen,” the boy said, devouring the burger. “Prince Aspen.”
Daran smiled, “OK then, Prince Aspen, what is your plan after this? Are you going home?”
“No!” Aspen shook his head hastily, “I won’t go home. And you can’t make me! You are not my parents.”
Daran raised his eyebrow, rubbing his chin.
He couldn’t let a child wander on the street like that.
But if the child refused to go home-
Maybe he could keep the child by his side?
Daran was startled by that thought.
Why would he want this kid by his side? He hated children.
But Aspen…there was something special about Aspen.
Just then, the door to the burger joint flew open and Daran’s Beta Francis came dashing inside.
“Hey, where have you been? We are going to be late to the Alpha’s Meetings…Wow!”
He stopped and took a look at Aspen, amazed.
“When do you have a bastard child?” he asked Daran.
Daran frowned, “What are you talking about? This is just a kid that I met on the
street.”
“Are you kidding me? He looked exactly like you when you were his age. And check out those eyes! You both have grey eyes!”
Daran’s heart skipped a beat.
He looked at the child, who was busy working on the vanilla ice cream.
Did they really look alike?
But Daran couldn’t remember what he looked like when he was 8 years old.
One thing to be sure was that…They both have smokey grey eyes.
“Hey Aspen,” he called to the boy. “Where do you get your eyes from? Your mom or dad?”
Aspen shook his head, “Neither of my parents have grey eyes. Mom said that said that I got my eyes from my grandpa. But I never met my grandpa. So I don’t know if she was lying.”
Daran leaned forward, fixing his gaze upon the boy.
“What are the
as of your
parents?” he asked.