The Abandoned Luna's Journey to Power Chapter 192: It Starts With Sharing Food

Cindy's POV:

It was the next morning.

By the time we stepped out of our room, Prince Adam was already waiting downstairs.

He looked refreshed and energized. Dark circles hung clearly beneath his eyes, proof that he had barely slept after last night's excitement, yet his entire face seemed to glow. The joy radiating from him came from deep within.

"Morning, Cindy!"

His voice was unusually bright, and the look in his eyes was so intense that I found it hard to directly meet his gaze. Clearly, he had heard every word of last night's conversation through the wall.

Feeling a little guilty, I avoided his eyes and pretended to straighten Astra's collar.

"Morning," I replied, barely above a whisper.

What delighted Prince Adam most, however, was Astra's reaction.

This time, when Prince Adam came over to help with the luggage, Astra didn't bristle like he had the day before, nor did he scream.

He still clung nervously to my leg, gripping my pant leg tightly, but his large eyes peeked upward from below, cautiously studying Prince Adam's back.

That broad back, that sword at his waist, did seem to overlap faintly with the blurred image of his grandfather in Astra's memory.

"He doesn't hurt civilians ... only bad people..."

I could read the silent reassurance in Astra's gaze. He was repeating it to himself, again and again. This was his future uncle by marriage. One of his own. Someone safe.

When it was time to get into the carriage, Prince Adam tentatively reached out, intending to help Astra up.

Astra hesitated. His body trembled slightly, but he didn't pull away. He allowed that large hand to support him under the arms and lift him gently into the carriage.

At that moment, the smile on Prince Adam's face shone brighter than if he had just won a battle.

By midday, we arrived at Highwind Territory.

It was a bustling city, its streets alive with noise, hawkers calling out from every direction.

Astra leaned against the carriage window, greedily taking in the lively scene outside.

For the past three years, he had known only dark alleys and filthy beggar dens. A normal life filled with warmth and bustle felt both unfamiliar and irresistibly appealing.

"Do you want some of that?"

Prince Adam pointed to a roadside stall selling freshly baked honey pastries. Their warm, sweet aroma drifted straight into the carriage.

Astra swallowed, then turned to look at me.

I smiled and nodded. "Go ahead. They've just come out of the oven."

The carriage came to a stop.

This time, I didn't need to go with him.

Prince Adam stepped down and waited by the carriage door. He didn't scoop Astra up. Instead, he extended an open hand.

"Astra, will you come buy them with me?" His voice was gentle, without a hint of pressure or authority.

Astra glanced at the pastries, then at Prince Adam's open palm.

After several painfully long seconds of inner struggle, he finally reached out with his thin, bony hand and placed it lightly into Prince Adam's.

Prince Adam closed his hand around it at once, his grip carefully measured, firm enough to support him, gentle enough not to hurt.

One tall figure and one small one moved together through the crowded street toward the pastries stall.

Watching from inside the carriage, my eyes filled with tears again.

"See, Cindy," Diana murmured in my mind with a satisfied sigh. "A wolf pack often accepts a new member after a single shared hunt. Or a single shared meal."

When they returned, Astra held a full bag of freshly baked honey pastries

As soon as he climbed back into the carriage, he took one out and stuffed it into my mouth. Then he picked up another, hesitated briefly, and offered it to Prince Adam.

Prince Adam accepted it as though he had been granted a great honor. He took a bite, savoring it as if it were the finest delicacy in the world.

At dinner, Astra even dragged his chair over to sit beside Prince Adam. There was still some distance between them, but it was already an enormous step forward.

The real turning point, however, came as we were leaving the restaurant.

An old beggar crouched by the doorway, dressed in rags and shivering in the cold wind.

The moment Astra saw him, he stopped short.

His expression grew complicated, a mix of sympathy and the sharp pain of recognition.

My heart tightened. Instinctively, I reached for the coin pouch at my waist, took out a silver coin, and moved to hand it to the old man.

Smack!

A small, icy hand suddenly clamped around my wrist.

Astra pressed down hard, shaking his head at me in alarm.

His eyes were filled with fear and determination as urgent, breathless whimpers spilled from his throat.