A little girl. No more than six. Met the heir of the Frantz empire in the midst of peril.

Her knee was scraped, blood drying against her pale skin. While her other leg was stuck underneath a fallen log. Her face was soaked with her tears, seemingly crying for hours.

Her crying hiccuped, confusion swirling in her eyes. Possibly thinking she had died and Anthony was here, dressed in all black, to take her away.

Anthony dropped to his knees quickly after Kerri ignored his stretched hand. “It’s okay,” he said gently, assessing the situation. “You’re okay,” he said, lifting the log easily, finally freeing her.

Arlo hovered a few...