Flora’s Guide to a Second Chance at Love and Life

The man's aura was calm and distinguished, the kind you'd expect from someone who'd spent years at the top. There was a flicker of fierceness in his gaze, a roughness in his husky voice. But when he looked at the young lady before him, his deep eyes softened with a tender warmth.This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

This was Sammuel, the head honcho of the top family in the Martial World. He was known for his ruthless ways, truly fierce, not just all talk. A faint scar on his brow only added to his intimidating presence.

"Thanks, Uncle!" Tara beamed, her gentle demeanor and non-threatening appearance making her all the more charming. Her smile lit up her face, her eyes curving in a way that masked any hidden intentions and endeared her to those around her. Just as she was about to savor a piece of pastry, a voice broke in, "Tara, my dear!"

In rushed a breathless figure, arms full of warm honey cake. "Tara, give this a try! Your younger uncle got it just for you!" He plopped down next to Tara, subtly nudging the table pastries aside. "I raced all the way back so it wouldn't get cold. Let me know if it's any good." Sammuel's eyes caught the movement, narrowing before he casually kicked the younger man over. "Causing trouble, are we?"

His voice was a low, fierce rumble. The younger man dusted himself off, shooting a pair of disgruntled eyes at his older brother.

Tara couldn't help but laugh, her almond-shaped eyes sparkling. They were a softer version of Flora's, who rarely showed such warmth, often maintaining a cooler demeanor in public.

"Alright, alright, my dear uncles, how about I eat all the pastries? Would that settle the score?"

Right then, Tara's phone buzzed. She glanced at it. "Oh no, something's up at the Medical Hall. I better head over."

"Take the pastries with you, don't just bury yourself in work. You need to take care of yourself too," Sammuel advised, his gruff voice laced with a special kind of tenderness meant just for her.

Tara nodded, packing up the pastries to go.

"Hey, big bro, there's something I gotta tell you." Watching Tara leave, the younger man suddenly recalled seeing a girl on the street who looked just like their sister when she was younger. "I swear, she looked just like Tara back in the day."

But Sammuel, busy as ever, didn't give it much thought. His plate was too full to dwell on such matters.

...

By the time Tara arrived at the Medical Hall, dusk had settled in. There, kneeling at the grand entrance, was Sydney. Tara's eyes widened in surprise. What could Sydney have done to get Corbyn so riled up?

After a moment's pause, she walked over. "Sydney," she called gently.

"Tara," Sydney's tears began to fall as soon as she saw her. She'd been through too much today.

"It's alright stop crying," Tara

sed her voice soft. "I'll go have

a

Iwith the master and se%

help."

"Thank you, Tara," Sydney choked out between sobs.

if I

With determined strides, Tara entered the Medical Hall.

"Miss Tara!" The staff greeted her with respect.

Tara

her warm and

hproachable nature winning t

unlike Sydney's often

theiret

ver

demeanor.

"Uncle Amos, is the master in?" she asked upon reaching the third floor, spotting Amos by the door.

"Yes, Miss Tara, please go in."

"Tara's here?" came Corbyn's cheerful voice from inside. "Come on in!"