As we stood at the entrance of the riverside park, waiting for our carriages to arrive, the conversation naturally drifted toward upcoming social events.
"Are you both attending Madame Carmen Tolliver's tea party?" Cassandra asked, smoothing out her skirts as she glanced between Marian and me.
"Of course. Missing one of her gatherings would be like social suicide," Marian said with a dramatic sigh. "You'd be branded as either a recluse or an outcast."
"I thought I wouldn't even be invited," I admitted, tilting my head slightly. "Good thing I was. It seems like she still considers my status as a duke's daughter rather than dismissing me entirely because of my reputation."
"Oh, please," Marian scoffed. "The woman practically educates half the empire on etiquette. You think she'd miss the opportunity to observe you up close?"
"More like dissect me," I muttered under my breath.
Cassandra giggled. "Well, whatever her reasons, it's an honor to be on her guest list. She rarely invites people she doesn't think highly of."
"Exactly," Marian said, tossing her hair back. "Which is why we must be at our absolute best. She could be testing us, you know. I wouldn't put it past her to be gauging our marriage prospects, the way mothers inspect fruits at the market."
We all groaned at that thought.
"It really does feel like we're being displayed for sale sometimes," Cassandra added with a wry chuckle. "Young ladies, fresh and ripe, waiting for the highest bidder."
"Or the first unfortunate fool to take us off our mothers' hands," Marian added dryly.
"Except in my case, there's no mother pushing me into the market," I said lightly, though there was a pang in my chest. I hid it behind a smile.
Before the conversation could turn melancholy, our carriages finally rolled into view.
"See you both at the tea party," Cassandra said as hers pulled up first.
"Don't be late, Aerin," Marian teased before stepping into her own.
"Oh, coming from the one who thrives on making grand, dramatic entrances?" I shot back, laughing.
As I entered my carriage, I let out a soft sigh, finally allowing myself a moment of quiet—until I realized I was not alone.
A man sat across from me, relaxed, almost too at ease in my personal space.
My breath caught. "Prince Rolland?"
He smiled, completely unfazed by my shock.
Though his sudden presence initially startled me, the surprise quickly melted into something warm and uplifting. I had just been thinking about him moments ago, and now—almost as if summoned by my thoughts—here he is, sitting before me, as dashing as ever. His unexpected arrival filled my heart with a quiet sense of joy and hope, a feeling I hadn't even realized I was yearning for.
"You know," I began, narrowing my eyes in mock suspicion, carefully masking the delight bubbling within me. "For someone who is supposed to be a dignified royal, you're behaving an awful lot like a stalker."
He chuckled, completely unbothered. "I saw your carriage passing and couldn't think of anyone else who would be riding in it, since the Duke has already left for the western territory. So I stopped it."
I exhaled sharply, crossing my arms. "So you just commandeered my carriage? How very princely of you."
"I merely borrowed it," he corrected playfully. "Besides, I wanted to see you."
I rolled my eyes but smirked despite myself. "Good thing you thought wisely to hide inside. I don't want to be seen with you outside."
His expression faltered for a brief moment, and for the first time since I'd known him, his face showed something close to sadness.
"You don't want to be seen with me?" he asked, his voice quiet, laced with disappointment.
I blinked, momentarily caught off guard by how genuinely hurt he sounded.
I sighed. "It's not that, Your highness." I softened my tone. "This meeting isn't official. The nobles' opinion of me is already… not the most favorable. I just don't want to stir any more gossip." Then, after a pause, I smiled. "But I am happy to see you, Prince Rolland."
Truly, I am happy to see him.
That was all it took. His playful grin returned, bright and teasing as ever.
"Good," he said, leaning back against the seat. "Because I have no intention of leaving just yet."
"Eh?!" I practically yelped, staring at him in disbelief.
My outburst was nearly drowned out by the clatter of hooves and the creak of the carriage as the coachman urged the horses forward.
The golden hues of the setting sun bathed the city in a warm glow, streaks of purple and orange painting the sky. Soon, the evening would set in, and here he was, casually declaring his extended stay without a shred of concern.
"What exactly are you planning, Your Highness?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
He only smiled, eyes closed, arms crossed over his chest, exuding the very picture of smug confidence. He didn't answer me. Just sat there as if he had all the time in the world.
"Why were you even out, Your highness?" I asked again when he failed to answer my question the first time.
"I was merely inspecting the market incognito," he finally responded, his tone light, almost dismissive. "I make it a habit to check in from time to time—ensuring things are in order, observing the flow of trade, and, of course, making sure no unsavory individuals disrupt the peace."
There was an air of nonchalance in his words, but I could tell he wasn't saying everything. His expression remained composed, but the sharp glint in his eyes suggested he paid far more attention to the market's affairs than he was letting on.
And that explained his simple, hooded attire—not the lavish, regal clothing one would expect a prince to wear. It was almost amusing to see him like this, blending in with the common folk instead of standing atop a grand palace balcony, issuing decrees.
"For you to do this, you must really be a prince who cares for his subjects," I remarked, half-impressed, half-teasing.
He merely shrugged, his expression unwavering. "It is my duty, my lady. A ruler who does not understand his people has no right to govern them. If I do not see with my own eyes, how can I claim to lead?"
There was weight behind his words, a quiet conviction that hinted at the burden he carried. This wasn't just an idle habit—it was something he took seriously. Something he believed in.
"Right," I murmured, nodding in agreement. There was nothing to argue with in that. A ruler disconnected from his people was no ruler at all.
Then, he turned his gaze toward me, his expression shifting—less guarded, more thoughtful. "You seemed to have enjoyed your time out today," he mused, his voice softer now. A pause, then, with a slight tilt of his head, he added, "And... you have friends now."
There was something about the way he said it—curious, contemplative. As if the idea of me having friends was something worth noting. Something that made him think.
I raised a brow. "Shouldn't I have friends?"
"Of course you should," he said at once, his smile warm. "And I'm glad."
His sincerity caught me off guard, but before I could respond, he leaned in slightly. "But still," he continued, his voice dropping to something softer, "I am your first and only male close friend, right?"
I blinked. "Well... I do have two other male friends."
His entire demeanor shifted. The warmth in his eyes darkened instantly, and his jaw tensed.
"Why do you need to know?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him, already sensing something like jealousy creeping into his tone.
"You told me before that you had no male friends," he accused, his voice low and laced with something dangerously close to possessiveness.
"Oh, I thought I didn't," I replied, tilting my head slightly, lost in thought. "Turns out, they see me as one of them. At first, I assumed they only regarded me highly because of my title, but... that's not it at all." A soft, almost disbelieving chuckle escaped me. "They've truly accepted me. Not as the Duke's daughter, not as some untouchable noble, but as a friend."
I paused, the realization settling deeper in my heart. "We're now a group of five," I added with a small smile. "They were four childhood friends, but now... now, I'm part of that. They knew my reputation, but they did not judge me. They took me in so naturally, made sure I never felt out of place. Even in the short time I've known them, they've been kind, welcoming. They're good people."
Unknowingly, my thoughts spilled into words, my heart speaking before I could filter them. My eyes must have given me away—sparkling with unguarded happiness, with the kind of gratitude that felt almost too big to contain.
For a moment, my words seemed to reach him. His jealousy faded, his eyes softening as he studied me. His lips curled into a smile, but I could tell his thoughts were elsewhere.
And then, just as quickly as his mood had calmed, it shifted again. His smile turned smug, but his eyes burned with quiet intensity.
"You still shouldn't be closer to them than you are to me," he murmured.
"Haaa?" I gawked at him in disbelief. "I don't understand you!"
The carriage trundled along the cobblestone streets, its gentle swaying almost lulling me into a sense of ease. But just as it slowed for a turn, he moved—swift and deliberate—closing the distance between us in an instant.
Before I could react, he had smoothly taken the seat beside me, his presence suddenly far too close, far too intoxicating.
My breath hitched.
"I missed you," he murmured, his voice dipping into something low and velvety. Before I could react, he reached out, his fingers twining around a lock of my hair, and he lifted it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the strands.
Hold on!
This man—this audacious, impossible man—never failed to send my heart into a frenzy. His advances were too fast. Just like the other night.
Was he trying to kill me with arrhythmia? I could barely keep myself together, and my heart? It was desperately trying to escape my chest at this point.
"Did you not miss me?" he added, tilting his head ever so slightly, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my breath falter.
"Huh?" That was the only thing that came out of my mouth.
Brilliant.
Did I miss him?
I had certainly thought about him.
A lot.
But was it missing him, or was it just the lingering thrill of… well, that night? Of my first kiss? Of the prince who had, quite literally, swept me off my feet and made my mind a jumbled mess ever since?
I wasn't sure.
And I certainly wasn't going to let him win this easily.
So, I cleared my throat and put on my best nonchalant face. "Oh? And what makes you so certain that I should have missed you?" I asked, raising a brow.
His smirk deepened. "Because it would be unnatural not to."
I scoffed, crossing my arms. "Wow. Someone's confidence is truly touching the heavens."
He leaned in ever so slightly, his lips quirking up in amusement as his gaze flickered over my face. "Aerin, let's not play games. You like me."
I choked on air. "Excuse me?!" I sputtered, completely caught off guard. My mind went blank, utterly speechless. Then, grasping for something—anything—I blurted out, "And since when were we on a first-name basis?!"
He shrugged, completely unfazed. "You can call me by my name, too."
"How could I?!" I practically yelled at him. This man was impossible—like a relentless bulldozer, charging forward without a hint of hesitation.
"Well, I'm giving you permission." He smirked. "Because you like me."
"Hah!" I scoffed, whipping my head toward the window, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of a response.
Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable.
"I said," he continued, drawing out his words deliberately, "you like me."
His voice was smooth, his tone maddeningly self-assured, as if he had already won.
I forced a laugh. "Oh, Your Highness, I'm afraid you must have mistaken admiration for your noble standing as something else. A misunderstanding, truly." I waved a hand dismissively.
His expression didn't falter. "A misunderstanding?"
"Yes."
"So if I kissed you again right now, you wouldn't mind?"
My entire body stiffened. My mouth opened—then shut—then opened again. "I—That—Who said anything about kissing?!"
He sighed dramatically, shaking his head. "Aerin, Aerin… why are you making this difficult? Just say it."
"Say what?" I crossed my arms.
"That you like me."
I rolled my eyes. "Your Highness, I am a lady of great dignity. I do not simply 'like' a man just because he sits in my carriage, steals my hair, and… and—" I gestured vaguely in his direction. "Acts like this."
His grin widened. "So, you do like me."
I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. "Did you not hear a single word I just said?"
"I did," he said easily. "I just chose to ignore everything that isn't the part where you clearly like me."
I shot him a glare. "You are truly insufferable."
"And yet, here we are," he replied smoothly, leaning in just a fraction closer, his presence far too overwhelming in the confined space of the carriage.
I pointed dramatically at the window. "Oh, look! We're almost home! What a shame, really. I do appreciate your visit, Your Highness, but alas, I must bid you farewell."
He chuckled, clearly amused. "You're just running away."
"I absolutely am," I declared without shame, inching toward the door as if my very life depended on it.
His laughter was soft, warm, and far too fond. "Alright, I'll let you escape—for now."
I peeked at him from the corner of my eye. The teasing glint in his gaze had softened, replaced by something quieter—something almost gentle. It was disarming.
And despite my best efforts to remain composed, I felt the corners of my lips betray me, tugging into an unbidden smile.
Yes… I did like him.
A little.
At first sight.
But he didn't need to know that yet.
The carriage rolled to a smooth stop before the grand gates of my estate. His Highness stepped out first, moving with effortless grace, then turned back, waiting. His hand extended toward me, palm up, a silent offer of assistance.
I hesitated—just for a moment—before placing my hand in his. The warmth of his touch sent an unwelcome shiver down my spine, but I forced myself to ignore it.
Once I was firmly on the ground, we stood face to face, the golden glow of the estate lanterns casting flickering shadows between us.
He dipped his head slightly, his lips brushing over my knuckles in a lingering kiss. "Until next time," he murmured against my skin.
Then, with practiced ease, he strode toward an unmarked carriage parked discreetly by the gate—a clear means of travel for his incognito outings.
Just as he was about to step inside, he turned back, locking eyes with me.
And then—
A wide, sweet smile stretched across his face, reaching his eyes, which shimmered with mischief. It only made him look even more breathtaking.
I sucked in a sharp breath, feeling the heat rush to my face.
"Haaaaah…" I sighed feeling defeated, pressing a hand to my forehead. "Help me, God," I muttered under my breath, watching as his carriage disappeared into the night.