"Well, Your Highness, I—"
"Spare me the formality. I want your truth. You're a historian; you should understand the value of stories and what makes them compelling." His voice was soft, almost coaxing, yet there was a sharp edge to it—a dangerous undercurrent that made Tuk's skin prickle with unease.
Tuk drew in a deep breath, forcing herself to meet his piercing gaze. "There's someone I care about, yes. But love is more than just feelings; it's about shared experiences, trust, and support. It's not something you wield like a weapon."
"Fascinating," he murmured, leaning in slightly. "So, tell me about this person. What makes them so special?"
The air in the room thickened, pressing against her like an unseen force. Her mind raced. Should she reveal more? Or keep her guard up? It was about her sister, anyway.
"I suppose... they've always supported me. They understand my passions and encourage me to pursue them," she began cautiously. "But love isn't just admiration. It's accepting someone's flaws, standing together through challenges."
His expression shifted, amusement giving way to something deeper. "And do you believe you could trust them completely?"
"Yes." The answer slipped out before she could stop it, raw and unfiltered. "But trust takes time to build."
He chuckled softly, leaning closer, his voice a mix of amusement and menace. "Time. The one thing I don't have much of. Very well, historian. Let's see how quickly you can help me build trust in my court. I expect results sooner rather than later."
Relief and dread coiled together in her stomach. This was only the beginning. But she couldn't let him use her as a pawn.
"Of course, Your Highness. I'll do my best," she replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside.
"Good. Now, let's get to work. Tell me what I need to do." His eyes gleamed—sharp, calculating. A predator cornering its prey.
Tuk steadied herself, heart pounding. This man wasn't interested in love. He was interested in control. Every moment they spent together, he tightened his grip, and she was running out of room to maneuver.
She swallowed hard. If she wasn't careful, he would unearth every secret she was desperately trying to keep buried.
"If I may, Your Highness... isn't what we're doing illegal? I've heard that studying love is banned throughout the empire." She met his gaze, though her pulse hammered in her throat.
Michaelli's eyes flickered with amusement. "Ah, yes—the law established by my predecessor, banning the study and expression of love."
He leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping the armrest. "It's true that in the past, such knowledge was deemed dangerous, disruptive to the empire's order. But let me make one thing clear: the laws of this empire bend to my will, not the other way around.
If I, the ruler of Marceau, have chosen to study love for my own purposes, then it is no longer illegal. My word is law. And while the previous king may have feared the chaos that love could bring, I see its potential as a tool—one that, under my control, can be mastered and wielded for the empire's benefit."
His voice dropped, cold and deliberate. "So rest assured, what we are doing is not only permitted but necessary. If anyone questions it, they will find themselves on the wrong side of my authority. I trust you understand the gravity of what we are undertaking—and also the protection that comes with my favor. Now, shall we continue? Or are there more concerns weighing on your mind?"
Tuk's thoughts spun. This was the ruler Marco had warned her about—the true prince of the empire, not just in title but in absolute authority.
She needed to rethink her approach, to understand his motivations. If this were a project, the prince would be her client, and his persona didn't match the data she'd gathered. He wasn't just brute force. He was calculated.
"You seem far more knowledgeable about love than I expected, Your Highness." She kept her tone neutral, but inside, her mind was screaming at her to run. Danger coiled around her like a noose tightening. One wrong word, one slip, and he would see through her act.
She forced a small smile, masking the unease gnawing at her stomach. "I apologize for the rude comment I made during our meeting back in Homonhon."
Michaelli's gaze lingered on her, unreadable. Then, a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips—a predator watching its prey falter. The room felt smaller, the air heavier, as if the walls themselves were closing in.
"So you've finally realized," he murmured, tilting his head slightly. "Apologies are easy to offer, but understanding takes more time. You thought me ignorant, didn't you?"
He rose slowly, deliberate in every movement, stepping closer. His golden eyes never wavered, studying her like a puzzle he was close to solving.
"Love is no different from war, Tuk. Strategy, deception, vulnerability—all tools at my disposal. It's amusing that you assumed I'd be blind to its uses just because it was forbidden." His smirk widened as he stopped just in front of her, voice soft but razor-sharp. "So tell me, what else did you miscalculate?"
She flinched inwardly. Stay calm. He's testing you. Don't make the same mistake again.
"To be honest, Your Highness, when you asked, 'What is love?' and I saw how the other historians reacted back in Homonhon, I assumed the people of Marceau didn't know about it—since it was banned so long ago. If I may ask without being rude, did Your Highness begin studying it after learning about the heart from the Prince of Homonhon?"
Michaelli's eyes narrowed slightly, his smirk fading into contemplation. Silence stretched between them, heavy and intentional.
"You're not entirely wrong," he finally said, voice smooth but edged with amusement. "The people of Marceau were deprived of love for generations. It was purged from our language, our history, our very way of life. But..." He stepped closer, gaze sharpening. "You underestimate me if you think I would rely solely on the ramblings of a foreign prince to grasp its meaning."
So his ego took a hit, and he studied it. The thought flickered in Tuk's mind before she could suppress it.
His fingers tapped his chin thoughtfully. "What the Prince of Homonhon said about the heart… it sparked my curiosity. But curiosity alone doesn't lead to understanding. I've studied it—more than anyone here would dare to admit. And I've seen how love can be manipulated, how it can be used as a weapon." His eyes flickered, as if seeing something far beyond the present.
"Tell me, Tuk—did you think you could teach me something I haven't already considered?" His voice lowered, a challenge woven through every syllable. "Did you hope to control me with a concept I've come to understand?"
Tuk stood frozen, her pulse echoing in her ears.
Only one word came to mind: Shit.