He watched Astarte intently as she spoke, noting the way she shook her head, as if trying to dispel the inner turmoil that haunted her. She requested his patience before continuing, the word "trespassed" lingering in the heavy air around them. His ears flattened, and a flicker of irritation sparked in his cold gaze. Her trust had been compromised, and he had no desire to explore the implications of her words, aware that it might unearth her pain. Amid her evident distress, a realization began to take root within him. He struggled to keep the anger at bay, suddenly feeling a strong urge to protect the woman before him.

"You will have as much time as you need," he murmured, his icy gaze locked onto hers. "Our agreement stands, but if you ever wish to leave Paradise, all you have to do is ask and your freedom will be granted." He understood the pact he had made with Carthage—not as a means of control, but as a testament to his loyalty.

He listened carefully as she responded to his question, grasping her desire to explore the other isles. He had spent much of his youth journeying from one isle to another, discovering the vast deserts of Salem, the dense forests of Luthien, and the frigid northern Tinuvel. The allure of Tinuvel was undeniable. He belonged to two worlds, born in the jungles of Atlantis, yet drawn toward the ancestral lands of the Inlet. His father often spoke with a sense of wonder in his frigid gaze about the snow-capped mountains, crystal-clear streams, and sprawling dark pine forests of their heritage.

One day, he knew he would return to the Inlet and reclaim what was rightfully his.