[Ann's POV]
From my vantage point on the clay-tiled roof, I saw the entire scene unfold below with the clarity of a hawk spotting its prey. I saw Sir Ace's silver-haired form cutting through the crowd like a blade. I saw the precise, devastating arc of his punch connecting with the leering man's jaw. I watched the man's body become a ragdoll, flying backward to crash into the beverage stall with a splintering crunch. I observed Sir Ace's cold efficiency as he paid the stunned merchant, his lethal focus as he grabbed the offender's tunic and delivered a threat that, even from a distance, made my own instincts prickle in recognition. And then, the shift: the crushing, protective hug, and the kiss that was not one of princely duty, but of raw, desperate possession.
The crisis was over. Lady Ovelia was found, and she was safe.
