MIQUEL'S POV

“Greetings father,” I muttered, looking away.

“You punk! How dare you…but wait, what's this you're wearing?” He stared at my clothes closely.

“I didn't tell them your identity” Miguel shrugs in my mind and I glared at him hard.

“You're really the crown prince of Gilead aren't you? Do you have an idea of the abomination you're committing? How can a sensible king crown someone he doesn't know his background?” Father growled.

“Father, we have spectators,” I muttered, embarrassed.

“Do you know what you're putting us into? Now we have to end our fluid relationship with that proud ungrateful punk!” He growled again. This time we all looked...