Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first morning you woke up, it was to a chorus of screams and frantic footsteps echoing around you.

As you staggered to your feet and caught sight of your reflection in the mirror, you immediately froze at the person staring back at you. The childlike body staring back at you was not your own—small and delicate, dressed in luxurious silky pajamas and crowned with soft pink hair that cascaded down your back. 

Who the fuck was that?!

Your panicked scream filled the room, but before you could even grasp what was happening, a flurry of maids rushed in. They spoke in hurried tones, urging you to calm down and stop making a scene. The confusion only deepened as their expressions barely shifted from their obvious disdain — like throwing a tantrum first thing in the morning was the usual, annoying wake-up call somehow. 

One maid immediately drew the curtains, letting the daylight flood the room, while three others busied themselves holding up various outfits for you. It felt as though they were all simply waiting for you to settle down and move on with the start of the day.

You paused, forcing yourself to take a long, deep breath, your chest rising and falling as you tried to steady the frantic pounding of your heart. Think, think, you urged yourself. There had to be a reason why everything felt so familiar, despite you never having been here before.

There was no mistaking it. 

This was the webtoon you were reading the night before.

You had been curled up in bed, snuggled up in your fuzzy blanket with your phone plugged in, completely absorbed in the chapter updated earlier that hour. The couple had long confessed their feelings to one another chapters ago, leading to smutty mishaps as they toed the line between lust and love. You'd been cheering for karma to finally come around to the crown prince’s evil sister, the villainess who had tormented Caleb, the main male love interest. 

The sister’s cruelty had been unrelenting simply because Caleb was adopted. The king had given up on producing male heirs after the first child threatened the life of his wife, which landed both the villainess and Caleb diametrically opposed political rivals. It was a slap in the face, that despite the sister being willing, capable, and strong, because of something she could not control, the throne was forever out of reach.

The villainess had made it her mission to ruin Caleb’s life. Assassination attempts, political schemes, public slander—nothing was off-limits in her pursuit of power. What made it worse was that the factions loyal to the royal bloodline only fueled her cruelty, siding with her in the shadows.

But here you were, now trapped in the villainess’ body, a child once more — an opportunity to change the course of history for the better.

Fuck. 

Did this mean you were dead in real life?

What about your apartment, your friends, your roommates? Would they find your body in the morning? Or were you somehow transported in your entirety into this body?

There was too much to think about at the moment. 

Most importantly, you had to focus on surviving this world now.

It was clear that you had to right the wrongs of the villainess. Sure, she had acted unjustly cruel to someone who did not deserve it; but the King had done nothing to appease her desires nor the tension in their relationship. She went from an only child who got everything she wanted to being pushed aside for a literal stranger. It was annoying how her father did not about her and Caleb's political rivalry, not even attempting to appease her with a high noble title for her to live our her days.

Regardless of that fact, in your new life you would do anything to protect Caleb from the undue hardship from the novel. You loved Caleb - you stayed up at night reading rough translations of the newest chapter, read up on theories on how'd they defeat the final boss, gushed about the fanart to your friends. You wanted to see his happiness come to fruition. And of course, you did not want to die at the prince's hands later down the line. Perhaps once the story settled down, you would move out to the countryside so there would be no question of his right to rule. 

And maybe, just maybe, you'd find your own happiness in the process.

Without the weight of ambition or the burning desire for revenge, this life could be peaceful. You were surrounded by luxury, with no real expectations placed on you — just the simple requirement to live quietly and without disturbance. Maybe you’d even find a duke or a foreign prince to marry and live out your days?

"Sweetheart, we don't have time for this. Your brother will be arriving today." Your mother, the Queen, sighed and brought you back to the present, her expression tired as she entered the room and scolded you for your dramatics.

You bit your lip, feeling a little guilty, but nodded in compliance. There was no point in arguing, not when it was clear by everyone’s behavior that the previous inhabitant of this body was quite the brat. Instead, you followed the maids in silence as they prepared you for the day, adjusting your attire and brushing your hair with practiced hands. 

The air was thick with anticipation as you learned that the king and queen had made arrangements for introducing Caleb to you for the first time ever today. They seemed to expect the villainess' usual rude behavior, so you were left out of his initial welcome to the Palace. It wasn't until lunchtime that you were finally summoned to the dining room.

Caleb — the handsome ML with striking purple eyes and dark brown hair. 

At the head of the table sat the king, his face already worn with a tired expression as you entered, clearly anticipating some sort of angry tantrum once again. Your mother gave you a look, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. But it was Caleb’s gaze that really caught you. He was staring at you with that hopeful, innocent look that you remembered so well from the Webtoon.

Holy shit.

He was so cute.

You couldn’t help it—the instant your eyes locked with his, your heart seized like it had seen a newborn puppy. His wide eyes seemed to hold all the innocence of a child who hadn't yet been through political hell. Caleb still had an edge of something lingering there — hesitance and perhaps some suspicion since he had only just been plopped into a new environment. 

You had this overwhelming urge to pinch his cheeks, to show him affection in the way you wished the villainess could have when she’d first seen him in the story. If memory served correctly, he was around twelve years old at this first meeting—and that was somehow older than your body at the moment.

It was almost unbelievable how utterly adorable he was.

“Sweetheart, this is Caleb.” Your mother introduced, her voice deliberately careful. 

Both she and your father were watching you like a bomb with an unknown timer. Clearly, they expected an explosion of sorts — tantrums, dramatic wailing, maybe even threat of a miniature coup d’état.

Instead, you grinned from ear to ear, practically vibrating with excitement. “Hi!!!” You waved enthusiastically as you stepped forward. “You’re so adorable!!!”

The room was dead silent.

Your parents looked like they had somehow witnessed divine intervention. Surely, their little terror wasn’t accepting the new addition so easily? You were infamous for your razor-sharp tongue and brat-like personality —an unrepentant gremlin that struck fear in dozens of maids, even in this tiny body. 

And yet, here you were, all sunshine and rainbows for the little prince.

Even Caleb seemed caught off guard. He blinked, then hesitantly replied, “Um. Pleasure to meet you Princess. My name is Caleb.”

“Nice to meet you, Caleb!” You chirped, taking the seat across from him as if you hadn't just sent shock-waves through the room. 

Up close, he was even cuter. His round chubby cheeks and striking purple eyes - there was no doubt that he was the main character of a Webtoon! The apples of his cheeks flushed pink as he fidgeted slightly under your unwavering gaze, as if unsure whether you were about to hug him or bite him.

Before you could decide which impulse was stronger, the Queen cleared her throat, snapping you out of your admiration. Her expression was poised, but there was a distinct sharpness in her gaze.

“Remember your manners.” She said evenly.

You resisted the urge to grimace. 

Right. 

Manners. 

You had, quite literally, just dropped into this world a few hours ago—propriety wasn’t exactly high on your priority list. The only saving grace was that the original owner of this body was a known asshole, so etiquette probably wasn’t her strong suit either.

Still, you supposed you should at least pretend to be civilized in the meantime.

Pushing yourself up from your chair, you smoothed out your tiny skirts and curtsied with an exaggerated flourish. "My apologies.” You said, voice as sweet as honey. "It is my honor to greet you, little Sun of the empire."

The Queen's lips pressed together; your parents looked like they were reconsidering their life choices, and Caleb just blinked at you, entirely unsure if he was being respected or mocked.

"Caleb here will be your older brother. Remember that.” The King declared, his tone leaving little room for argument.

It was almost telling how silent the room was. Sure, if you had kicked up a fuss then your mother would step in. But it seemed like the King could not care less about you or your personality, simply eating lunch with the family since it was on the schedule.

Not that you had any complaints about the King’s earlier words. If anything, you were winning here—your new brother was adorable and there were far worse fates than being related to someone this precious. Your future fate, that is death by Caleb’s hands, could be easily avoided as long as you maintained a positive relationship with him.

“I promise I’ll try my best for you.” You affirmed, meeting Caleb’s gaze with unwavering sincerity. Then, leaning in slightly, you added. “The palace is huge, and there are lots of people here. I can help guide you today!”

There was genuine warmth in your voice, a real desire to make things easier for him.

Caleb studied you carefully, his small hands gripping the silver utensils. It was almost surreal, he had been studying the night before which order to use the forks and spoons. And yet two nights ago, the now-prince was slurping soup from his hands. 

This was all… too much at once.

His expression was unreadable at first—distrust? Uncertainty? Maybe he thought you were playing some elaborate trick. After all, even at the orphanage nearly an hour away, it was almost impressive how infamous your cruel temper was. Perhaps this was part of a long play?

Then, after a moment, his grip loosened, and he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.

He’d play along for now.

Thankfully, the King and Queen seemed satisfied with your words, and after lunch, you found yourself strolling through the palace grounds with your new brother. Two maids trailed behind—one assigned to each of you—silently observing as you led the way through the grand corridors and sprawling gardens. It was almost comical how you volunteered to be his guide and yet you had no idea where you were going.

The palace was massive, even more so than you had imagined from the story. Towers stretched toward the sky, golden accents glinting in the afternoon sun, while marble paths wound through meticulously maintained flower beds. You recognized some of the major places - the garden where Caleb confessed his love for the first time, the bench where they took a nap outside, and the random steamy locations where they made love throughout the Webtoon.

It was still hitting you that you were in this world - it was a real place.

You cast a glance at Caleb, who walked beside you in quiet contemplation. He was trying his best to school his expression into something unreadable, but at the end of the day, he was still a kid. No matter how much he tried to mask it, the awe in his eyes was unmistakable as he took in the grandeur of the palace grounds. But again, that edge of something else was still ever present.

At some point, the two of you settled under a grand white gazebo, sipping tea as the afternoon drifted by. The maids had wandered off to fetch more cookies and macaroons, leaving you momentarily alone with the young prince.

“Do you like it so far?” You asked, your tone light and curious.

Caleb hesitated before answering. “It’s… different from the orphanage.”

“I hope so.” You replied with a small smile. “I hope one day I can help make this a home for you.”

Caleb blinked at you, his expression shifting into something unreadable—unguarded awe mixed with deep suspicion. If you were truly the menace he had been warned about, several times at that, then you were doing an unsettlingly good job of pretending otherwise. He was still wary, but now, for the first time, he seemed uncertain about what to believe.

That expression lingered a second too long, making you slightly nervous. Looking for a distraction, you reached for the plate of macaroons and lifted one toward him.

“Have you ever had these before?”

He responded. “No, I haven’t.”

“They’re really good if you like tart flavors! We can try a bunch, and next time, we’ll get some of your favorites.”

Caleb nodded, saying nothing, his careful deliberation still evident. Under different circumstances, you might have felt offended by his hesitation. But you could only imagine the rumors the young prince had heard, the expectations he had of you. It would take time and effort to prove yourself—two things you had in abundance.

Sensing the conversation had run its course, you glanced toward the gardens, searching for something new to talk about.

“Want to take a walk?” you suggested, nodding toward the vibrant hedges and flower beds.

Caleb frowned, clearly considering whether this was the perfect opportunity for your so-called ‘evil’ self to hatch a ploy. But when you offered him what you hoped was a reassuring smile, some of the suspicion in his eyes wavered. Maybe even a little guilt took its place. 

“Sure, why not?”

Taking that as a win, you stood and gently took his hand, leading him down one of the many winding garden paths. Bright red roses were in full bloom, their petals practically glowing in the afternoon light.

“I don’t really have a favorite flower,” you mused, letting your fingers brush against a few delicate petals. “I love roses, but I’m not sure if it’s because I’ve seen them the most or because I really do like them. Maybe one day I’ll decide.”

You tried to carry the conversation for the both of you, filling the silence with casual observations and small comments. Caleb, for his part, stuck to his silent, wary act. You knew from the Webtoon that he was supposed to be charismatic and even a little teasing toward those he cared about. But right now, the young prince was suspicious and especially guarded. It was a little sad to see, but you had all the time in the world to help him grow into the person he was meant to be.

The two of you wandered deeper into the gardens, admiring the different flowers and maze-like hedges. The paths twisted and turned in an elegant, almost hypnotic design, until—

A small noise sounded from above.

Was it supposed to rain today?

You stopped, blinking as you looked around. The once-visible white gazebo had vanished from sight, surrounded only by tall hedges and bushes of flowers.

You were lost.

“Uhhhh.” You looked left and right, trees and decor looking exactly the same on both sides. How on earth you could get lost at home was ridiculous, but you surprisingly could not even hear other people. 

In the palace, it was almost grating to hear the metallic clang of armor as knights patrolled the grounds. There was even a silent scurry of maids and other workers going about their day. But now, you could not even hear a single soul other than Caleb.

“Oh god. I think we’re lost.” 

Caleb returned your statement with a slow, unimpressed blink. “Oh yeah? And how did that happen?” His voice was flat, his face the very picture of silent disappointment.

Shit, did he think you planned this?  

“I—I’m so sorry. Let’s just backtrack! It should be okay, right?” You said, attempting optimism while worry gnawed at your heart. 

You spun around, determined to retrace your steps as a light drizzle started. Caleb remained a step behind, quiet as ever. It was your first time in the gardens as well. And you had easily lost track of your pace and time when traversing the grounds for the past hour.

“I’m so sorry, this is all my fault.” You muttered over and over, squinting above the hedges in a desperate attempt to locate anything familiar—the palace, the gazebo, literally anything.

At one intersection, it seemed Caleb had enough and grabbed your hand. He gently led you through the winding paths without hesitation. You gathered it should come as no surprise that he memorized the entire way here while you were talking.

And another hour later, you found yourself back at the original white gazebo. The tea cups and plates had been cleared away, no doubt by the maids. You’d been gone too long. With the rain now coming down in sheets, the two of you quickly ran for shelter under the gazebo, your breath coming in short, frustrated bursts.

You glanced at Caleb, your heart still racing. “…I guess I’m not the best tour guide.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his expression unreadable as the rain poured down around you. Then, with a slight tilt of his head he responded.“You could’ve done better.”

“I’m so sorry! This is a terrible start to your first day here. I promised myself I would do better and I’ve already messed this up.” You said, your words tumbling out in a rush. 

The weight of the moment was heavier than you expected - were you destined to be this awful villainess?

Caleb sighed, but there was something soft in the sound—less like a frustrated exhale and more like a quiet concession. He looked at you with a small, almost imperceptible smile. “You’re different from what they say.”

You couldn’t help the small spark of hope that flared up. “Different?” you asked, your tone lighter as you tried to match his tentative smile.

He hesitated, his eyes flicking away from you before he spoke. “I don’t want to say.”

You weren’t offended. In fact, it made sense. You were a stranger to him and everything about this situation probably felt off.

“It’s okay. I know already. You’ve probably heard that I’m spoiled and mean and I’d make your life hell.” You admitted. “I probably deserve that. Recently I’ve… I’m trying to be better.”

Caleb was silent for a moment, his eyes studying you. His expression was still ever guarded, but you caught the faintest flicker of something. Maybe it was surprise, maybe curiosity—but for the first time, you didn’t feel like he was ready to push you miles away.

“I don’t think you’re mean.” He said, his tone neutral, though his lips twitched just a little as he added, “Yet.”

You laughed softly, the sound light and without tension. “Guess the jury’s still out on that, huh?” You reached for his hands, holding them gently in yours. “But I really do mean it. I want to prove to you that I can be different.”

The air between you both grew still, thick with the weight of the unspoken, until Caleb broke the silence, his voice quieter now. “Why?”

You looked at him, trying to understand the question, but it was clear he wasn’t asking out of curiosity alone. He was trying to gauge something deeper—perhaps whether you were being genuine or if you had some hidden agenda.

You met his gaze steadily, knowing this was a turning point. “Because you’re my older brother,” you said, your voice soft but certain. “And family looks out for each other. We’re supposed to be there for each other, even when it’s hard.”

There was a long pause as Caleb absorbed your words, his expression still cautious but less defensive. The distance between you seemed to shrink, just a little, as the barriers he'd put up around himself began to crack.

The silence that settled between you and Caleb was oddly comfortable, but there was no denying the growing discomfort of being soaked to the bone. The rain kept falling, heavier now, and you both knew it wouldn’t be long before you’d catch a cold if you stayed out in it much longer. Without exchanging a word, you both stood up, silently agreeing to head back into the Palace.

The halls were quieter now, but as soon as you stepped through the doors, the usual bustle of the Palace staff seemed to snap back into focus. Maids and attendants noticed you immediately, rushing over with towels in hand. Without question, they began drying you both off, the soft, fluffy fabric absorbing the cold moisture from your clothes.

But it wasn’t long before your mother’s unmistakable voice echoed through the lobby, her tone sharp and raised with concern. “Heaven on earth, why are you two soaking wet?”

You instantly stepped forward, eager to prevent Caleb from getting scolded. “It’s because of me!”

Holding your hands up to capture all her attention, you continued loudly, “It’s not Caleb’s fault at all! I’m supposed to be his guide, and we got lost in the gardens because of me. By the time we found our way back, it was already pouring rain.”

Your mother’s gaze flickered between you and Caleb, her expression unreadable for a moment. You could practically feel Caleb’s tension rising, though he said nothing, letting you take the blame.

“You’re... actually trying to be his guide?” she asked, her voice careful, almost skeptical.

You nodded emphatically. “Yes! Please don’t blame him at all! It’s all my fault!” Your words came out in a rush and you hoped the sincerity in your voice would be enough to convince her.

Your mother stared at you for a moment longer, before letting out a long sigh. “Fine. But next time, bring the maids with you?” There was no real anger in her tone, that surprise from earlier still there.

Caleb stood behind you, still a little stiff, but his expression had softened ever so slightly. Perhaps he wasn’t completely convinced yet, but something about the way you’d defended him seemed to have made a dent in his earlier wariness.

For the next few days, you made sure to stay close to Caleb, never wanting him to feel alone or out of place. You woke up early every morning, eager to join him for breakfast in the dining room, ensuring that the two of you shared at least some time together before your schedules took over. You’d coax him into trying new dishes, excited to show him that the world outside the orphanage could be full of enjoyable experiences.

Despite your role as princess, you fought to never stray too far from his side. Etiquette lessons, personal tutors, and the ever-present watchful eyes of the palace staff kept you occupied, but you always made time for Caleb. The tutors, noticing the change in your demeanor from local gremlin to actual human being, seemed eager to teach you now. They praised your newfound focus and softer personality, something that felt almost foreign to your former self.

Caleb’s schedule was just as packed with his own lessons—swordsmanship training, etiquette training, and all the things expected of a crown prince. But no matter how busy you were, you always made sure to carve out time to spend with him. You found yourself pulling him away from his studies for random walks through the gardens or inviting him to share meals, often catching him off guard with your insistence, though he never outright refused.

The first few days, hell the first few weeks, Caleb kept his subtle guard up. He would entertain your presence, but spoke with few words and said nothing truly personal about his life.

But that was okay — little by little, you would help him slowly lower his walls, even if only slightly. You noticed now he would smile faintly at your attempts to include him, and you could see the way his posture would relax just a little when he was with you.

It wasn’t much, but it was progress.

At least, on the surface. 

On more than one occasion Caleb had disappeared from the maids, even his personal knights unable to find him on Palace grounds. But you knew, simply because of your knowledge of the Webtoon, where he was probably deliberately hiding off to. 

You remembered how overwhelmed Caleb felt at times — the imposter syndrome that tore at his heart and made him feel unworthy of any love or even his title as Prince. How could anyone, especially at his age, reconcile with begging for food one day and then being pampered as royalty the next?

Walking through the gardens with purpose, you stopped only to listen and hear his small sniffles. 

Lilacs — Caleb’s ever present light motif in the novel. They were his eyes when he was happy, darker shades when he was filled with rage, blossomed bright when he was in love.

You steeled your heart for the right things to say and approached. 

“Caleb… It’s me.” You whispered in a low tone, not to scare him away.

There was a gasp, before a broken voice rang out. “Don’t come close!”

You stayed low to the ground, eyes level with where he was sitting on the grass. He had his knees up to his chest and his eyes were puffed red. 

“Oh sweet, Caleb. I’m so sorry.”

The young prince rubbed at his eyes insistently, attempting to hide his tears. “This… it has nothing to do with you.” 

“You don’t have to tell me anything.” You replied back, meeting angry eyes staring back at you.

“I just… I need to be alone!”

But you only felt your heart crack more, tears streaming down his face as he attempted to stand. You closed the gap quickly and wrapped your arms around his neck. You were both sitting on the ground now, but you pulled him close to you to comfort him.

“I can’t leave you like this Caleb. You’re not alone anymore.” You reassured him. “Don’t tell me anything. Your business is your business.” You whispered against his ear as you hugged him tight. Caleb’s hands hung dead at his sides.

“…”

“I’m here for you, always. Whether you like it or not.” You closed your eyes, voice amused towards the end as you tried your best to convey your support. 

Caleb hadn’t hugged you back. Simply sniffling and attempting to take deep breaths as you cuddled in silence. And you meant every word you said - you were here for him as someone to lean on, especially in the moments that he could no longer take a single second more of being a prince.

“… Thank you.”

You stayed there with Caleb, hugging him until the pose was uncomfortable. You shifted him onto his back, his head resting in your lap as your fingers found their way to his hair, gently massaging his scalp in slow, soothing motions. His breathing had steadied, his features relaxed, and though his eyes remained closed, you stayed right there with him—silent, unwavering, and unwilling to leave him alone.

You must have been there for hours, long enough for a search party of knights to finally track you down. Caleb had drifted into a peaceful sleep, his head still resting in your lap, his breathing deep and steady. As one of the knights took a cautious step forward, you shot him a glare so sharp it made him hesitate mid-stride. The unspoken message was clear—wake him, and you’ll regret it.

“Princess, he might be cold.” He said in a low tone.

You sighed but acquiesced. “Fine, but do not wake him. He’s had a hard day.”

Carefully, you helped guide Caleb back to his chambers, ensuring he was settled beneath the heavy blankets before the knights took their leave. Even after they were gone, you stayed by his side, your fingers gently curled around the young prince’s as he slept. The quiet of the room wrapped around you like a cocoon, time slipping by unnoticed—until the soft creak of the door announced the Queen’s arrival.

“You care a lot about him.” She said without greeting, not a question but an observation.

“He’s gone through so much.” You replied. “I have to be here for him.”

The Queen smiled to herself behind you before speaking. “I think you’re good for each other.”

Even after the Queen departed, you remained by Caleb’s side. He looked so fragile like this, his usual sharp features softened by exhaustion. Nothing like the clever, dependable boy who had always followed you like a shadow. A lump formed in your throat as you watched him. You wanted to cradle him, to shield him from whatever had worn him down so badly. 

This wasn’t the confident, charming crown prince from the Webtoon—the one who dazzled nobles with a sly grin and effortless wit. 

No, this was Caleb at his most vulnerable.

At some point, the maids arrived with dinner, their voices gentle yet insistent as they urged you to eat. But you simply shook your head, unwilling to leave. The food sat untouched on the tray as you stayed there, fingers still loosely entwined with his, watching the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

Caleb eventually stirred, his lashes fluttering open as he blinked against the dim candlelight. Night had long since settled, casting deep shadows across the room. As soon as he showed signs of wakefulness, you quietly called for a maid to fetch his dinner, staying put even as she brought in the tray.

He ate in silence, the only sound in the room the soft clink of utensils against porcelain. You didn’t press him to speak, content to simply be there. But the moment the maid exited, Caleb turned his sharp gaze on you, his expression unimpressed.

“You have to eat too.” He said, voice low but firm.

“I will,” you replied quickly, a little too quickly. “But I wanted to make sure you were okay first.”

Caleb gave you a small smile then—the first real, genuine smile you’d ever seen from him. It was soft, warm, and completely disarming. “Thank you for looking after me.”

A smile worth protecting.

“Of course I will!” You stood in surprise, not even realizing you had done so. It was almost embarrassing how loud you were and sheepishly sat back down. “You’re my older brother, you’re stuck with me forever.”

“I know.” His voice was quiet, but the fondness in it was unmistakable.

Without thinking, you placed your hand over his in a comforting gesture. “I know we’ve only just met, and you’ve probably been through so much… Don’t feel any pressure. Just know that I love you, Caleb.”

The second the words left your mouth, Caleb froze. His lips parted slightly, his expression somewhere between stunned and confused.

“What?”

But you only smiled and started to stand. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Caleb. I’ll be back to check on you in the morning, okay?”

“Wait!”

You stopped in your tracks, glancing back at him. He looked just as surprised by his own outburst as you were.

“…Can you stay with me? Just for a little while?”

Your chest warmed at the hesitance in his voice. “Of course,” you said easily, smiling at him. “Let me call a maid—would it be okay if I eat dinner here with you?”

He nodded, and soon, you were both seated comfortably, sharing a quiet meal. You chatted idly about the upcoming dishes for the week—some pasta you’d never tried before, a few steak dishes that sounded incredible. Caleb didn’t talk much, but he listened, the weight of the day slowly melting from his shoulders.

“But I’m really looking forward to this little strawberry cake thing that they make!”

“You really love food, don’t you?” Caleb asked with a smile.

“Yes! I mean. Food is food — we need it to survive. But if mother only lets me eat three times a day then I better make the most of it!”

“ Only three?” There was a slight teasing to his voice. 

“Okay, sure with some light snacking in between. But I just… I love the flavors and textures.”

In your previous life, indulging in a good meal—let alone an unnecessary dessert—was a rare luxury. Money was tight, and even something as simple as a carton of eggs could cost nearly half an hour’s worth of work.

But you couldn’t say that to Caleb.

Not in this life.

You had noticeably stretched into a long silence. “I can appreciate a good meal.”

“I can cook for you one day.”

“What?” You grinned at him. “You’re the Crown Prince! You don’t need to cook for little old me.”

Caleb leaned in slightly, his fingers twirling a strand of your hair between them with practiced ease. “You’re my Princess,” he said, his voice soft yet unwavering.

You nearly choked on air. For someone so young, he had an absolutely unfair way of saying things with such confidence. It wasn’t fair—how was he this charming already?

“You’re…” You hesitated, your brain scrambling for a proper response.

“Yes?” He tilted his head just slightly, his expression perfectly innocent—except for the telltale glint of mischief in his eyes. 

He was enjoying this.

You shot him a playful glare before shaking your head with a sigh. It was still honesty hour in your heart, so you decided to speak candidly. “You’re the best thing to happen to me.”

For the first time, Caleb actually looked surprised. His fingers stilled in your hair, and his expression flickered between shock and something softer, something warmer.

“…Me too,” he murmured, almost like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

A small silence settled between you, comfortable yet charged, and you had to resist the urge to ruffle his hair just to break the moment. Instead, you smirked. “Well, at least you have good taste.”

That earned you an eye roll and a chuckle, but his fingers never left your hair.

.

.

.

.

.

Five months into your growing bond with Caleb, your parents decided it was time for him to take his first step into high society. 

A garden tea party, hosted by the wife of a high-ranking Duke, was the perfect event to introduce him to the noble class. The party was meant to be a gathering for the younger generation of the aristocracy, and, naturally, you and Caleb were invited.

As the carriage rumbled along the cobblestone streets toward the Duke’s estate, you couldn't help but notice the matching outfits you and Caleb had been dressed in. The intricate white fabric, adorned with gold embellishments, made you both look like little figures out of a royal painting. But beneath that elegant exterior, Caleb’s nerves were palpable. His knee bounced nervously every so often. Sitting across from him, you could feel his unease in the air and you couldn’t stand it anymore.

Without much thought, you moved to sit next to him, your hand gently resting on his knee. "I know it’s a lot.” You murmured softly, offering a reassuring smile. "But I’m here with you."

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a hint of gratitude. The briefest of smiles tugged at the corners of his lips, but it was still hesitant, the anxiety still present right below the surface. 

"Thank you.” He muttered, his voice softer than usual.

When the carriage finally pulled up to the estate, the nervous energy still lingered in Caleb, but he hid it well behind the confident facade he had been trained to wear. 

The tea party itself was a spectacle of fine clothes, flowing dresses, and polished manners and although neither of you were the hosts, Caleb was immediately the center of attention. Several heads turned and many dropped to a whisper as they looked at him, but you stayed at Caleb’s side as you walked through the garden party.

To his credit, the Prince quickly adapted, meeting the curious gazes of the young noblemen and women. The other children were, for the most part, peaceful and reserved, though there were plenty of curious glances directed at Caleb. It was the world’s worst kept secret that he was going to be the crown prince, an adopted one at that.

What started as an anxious young boy quickly transformed as the mask slipped into place. The nervous, fidgeting Caleb you knew from the carriage was replaced by a charming, charismatic young man. A bright smile graced his face as he worked the crowd with ease, offering compliments and engaging in polite conversation with his peers.

For a moment, you watched him with a sense of awe, marveling at how seamlessly he stepped into the role that was being thrust upon him. But you couldn’t help but notice the faint tension still hiding in his posture, just beneath the surface. He had the mask, but you knew him too well over these past few months to miss the subtle signs that he was still adjusting.

You smiled to yourself, glad that, despite everything, Caleb had come so far in such a short amount of time. 

He really was the main character of his own Webtoon.

Many continued to excitedly approach him, offering their own name and family origin. You watched with a quiet smile and traversed to the dessert table. Some of the young girls your age cowered in fear at seeing you; you could only imagine your prior behavior at these gatherings, especially without your parents to curb you.

Some people approached you with quiet greetings, you were this nation’s only princess after all, and you attempted to be as cordial as best you could be.

“Can you believe it?”

“Who does he think he is? Months ago he was street trash and he thinks he’s all that?”

You overheard the whispers, sharp and filled with venom. The words hit you like a slap, and your grip on your teacup tightened. You didn’t look back at first, but your mind raced.

“He will never be my King.”

Without turning, you spoke low, but loud enough for them to hear. 

“Repeat yourself for me.”

The voices behind you faltered. They hadn’t expected to be called out and it was clear from their startled expressions that they’d underestimated you. One of the boys stammered, his face flushing as he tried to salvage his words. Clearly they had seen you just a step away, but respected you so little to think you’d actually say something.

“Princess!” One of them attempted to explain himself, “Surely you understand, since you earned your noble blood.”

“I earned something I was born with?” You asked back with a sarcastic tone before leaning into their space. “He will be your King. The only way that fails to be true is if my patience runs thin at this very moment.”

Your tone, low and threatening, made the boys blanch. They exchanged nervous glances before scrambling to escape, fear overtaking their earlier bravado. You watched them disperse, the weight of your words hanging in the air long after they were gone. 

Thankfully, this body was still that of a villainess! 

Turning to your maid, who had been quietly standing nearby, you spoke with a calmness unexpected of you. “What were their names? Do you know which families they’re from?”

The maid nodded quickly, her voice respectful. “Yes, Princess. I can get a list for you when we return to the Palace.”

You gave a curt nod. “Good. That behavior isn’t normal. It’s taught. And whatever is being said at home, it’s concerning that they feel comfortable enough to say it here.”

Your gaze lingered on the space where the boys had been, already formulating your next steps. No one would dare speak ill of Caleb, especially in front of you, and if anyone had any doubts about him, you'd make sure those were erased. 

As your attention shifted, your eyes locked with Caleb’s across the crowded room. Despite the bustling conversation and laughter around him, his gaze was fixed solely on you. The noise seemed to fade away for a brief moment, as if the whole world had narrowed down to just the two of you. You offered him a small, reassuring nod—just enough to let him know you were fine.

You sighed softly, then took your seat at a table with a group of noble girls around your age. Their chatter was lively, the sound of laughter and gossip filling the air, but one voice cut through it all.

“Can you believe how cute he looks?! Ahhhh!” One girl gushed.

Before you could even react, the table fell into an awkward silence, and all eyes shifted toward you, waiting for your response. You could practically feel the tension building, but you weren’t about to let them get the wrong idea.

“Are you talking about Prince Caleb?” you asked casually, your voice light and teasing. “I can’t believe it either! He’s adorable!”

The girls blinked, processing your words like they hadn’t expected that answer. Then, as if on some unspoken cue, they relaxed, smiles spreading across their faces.

“You… like His Royal Highness?” one of them ventured, her voice dripping with curiosity.

“Of course! He’s kind and so cute! I’m trying my best to support him.” You replied with a playful grin.

There was a pause, the room hanging with unspoken questions. Then, the girl who had started it all spoke again, but this time her tone was a little more cautious.

“That’s very admirable, Princess,” she said, her voice quieter now, as if treading carefully. “But I thought you said last time that only you deserved to be on the throne?”

You could feel the eyes of the table on you, and you took a breath, letting the question settle in your mind. You didn’t shy away from it. The person you once were had made a lot of mistakes—and you weren’t going to hide from them now.

“I know I said that,” you replied, voice steady. “But I was wrong. Prince Caleb is amazing, and honestly, I’m trying to be better.”

The air around you shifted. The girls exchanged looks, and you could hear their murmurs. One of them finally broke the silence.

“Wow, what a change!” she said, eyes wide.

“Why’d you change your mind so soon, Princess?” another asked, her voice full of interest.

You thought for a moment, gathering your words. “I’ve gotten to know Caleb better. He’s wise, knowledgeable, and honestly perfect as a future ruler. He understands the common people, and he’s learning about our world now.”

One girl, clearly impressed, leaned forward. “He… he made you change this much?”

“Maybe you two are really good for each other!” another whispered to her friend.

You smiled, not just at the girls, but because of Caleb. “I hope so.”

Thankfully, the conversation lightened after that. The girls resumed gushing about the handsome Prince, and even started chatting about other eligible noble sons in the room. You found out about a few new faces—some that hadn’t been mentioned much in the Webtoon. It seemed there were plenty of young men your age who might stir up the plot, each one more charming than the last.

Names that were familiar were thrown around - the head mage’s son Xavier, the neighboring Prince of the Southern Isles Rafayel, and one more person. One who was present today at this garden party that you were due to speak to.

You enjoyed socializing with the excitable group, but soon your maid discreetly reminded you of your duty as Princess. With a sigh, you knew it was time to make your rounds and greet the others even though you were not even hosting the tea party today.

Most of the other nobles, even those your age, were a bit dull. They boasted endlessly about their horses, or the various languages they were studying. It was all rather tiresome. But then, you came upon the Duke of the North’s son—Zayne Akso.

He sat alone, quietly enjoying his dessert, his demeanor calm and composed. Unlike the others, he didn’t seem eager to flaunt his accomplishments or strike up unnecessary conversation. He simply acknowledged your presence with a polite nod, not one to waste words unless necessary. 

It was ironic, considering Zayne of all people had the most to boast about. Whispers of his extraordinary intellect and prodigious talent in the medical field followed him like a quiet storm, even though he was Caleb’s contemporary. Most nobles were content to read books and dabble in skills that, ultimately, had no real weight outside of social gatherings. But Zayne, who already had a guaranteed title and future at the next King’s side, was an ambitious hard-worker. 

His talents were not for show—they were for purpose.

You could not help, but ask. “How do you know so much about the medical field?”

His gaze lifted from his dessert, calm yet steady. “Because of my territory’s location, we often defend the kingdom against monster attacks or border skirmishes. I’ve seen many injuries and put myself to use for my people.”

You looked at him in awe -- the boy genius did this while he was the same age as your body!

A sense of admiration blossomed within you as you leaned in slightly, unable to hide your awe. “That’s amazing, Zayne! You really care for your people.”

His expression softened ever so slightly, though he didn’t speak further on the matter. There was something quiet and humble about him—his modesty matched by the gravity of his experiences. It was a contrast you weren’t sure many of the others here could truly appreciate.

Before you could press further, a familiar hand brushed against the small of your back, followed by a voice you knew well. “Sorry, I haven’t had a chance to introduce myself. Prince Caleb, pleasure to meet you.”

Zayne nodded and extended his hand, shaking Caleb’s firmly. “Greetings, Little Sun of the Empire.”

Caleb’s smile was polite but tight, his expression betraying a slight discomfort for some reason. Nevertheless, he exchanged pleasantries, determined not to let it show.

“And what were you two talking about?” Caleb asked, his tone curious, but only you could hear the caution in it. Perhaps you were more attuned to Caleb than you thought.

“Zayne was telling me about his experience back in his territory. Did you know he’s a medical genius even though he’s our age?” You beamed, hoping to elevate Zayne’s accomplishments.

But Caleb had that weird expression on, one that you could not fully describe.

“Please, you do not need to humor me.” Zayne had a hint of a smile on.

“I’m not just humoring you, Zayne. I mean it. I won’t be surprised when we’re older and you’ve got papers published or even become a renowned surgeon!” You said earnestly, hoping to ease the tension.

When you glanced at Caleb, his expression was a bit harder to read—almost challenging of the young man in front of him, like he didn’t quite approve of the direction of the conversation. But you didn’t dwell on it.

Thankfully, the rest of the conversation proceeded with less friction, the three of you exchanging pleasantries about the tea party and your other interactions with the nobles. Zayne remained as quiet and composed as ever, but his respect for Caleb was evident in the subtle way he acknowledged him.

The carriage ride back to the Palace was quieter, the rhythmic clattering of the wheels on the road filling the space. You stared out of the window for a moment, lost in thought, until Caleb broke the silence.

“I saw what you did, back in the garden,” Caleb said, his voice low but clear.

“Huh?” You glanced over at him, confused.

“Those boys. You told them off— for me.”

A smile tugged at your lips as you remembered the confrontation. “Of course I did! They had no right saying that about you. When we get back, I’m going to punish their families.”

Caleb shook his head, his gaze soft but firm. “Thank you for caring about me, but you don’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I do, Caleb! I promised to be here for you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re treated with respect,” you insisted, your voice unwavering.

He paused, looking at you with a mix of gratitude and concern. “We’ll get them when the time is right.”

As if to shift the mood, Caleb reached over and ruffled your hair lightly—a small, affectionate gesture. It was the first time he’d done it, and it left you feeling both comforted and surprised.

The last thing Caleb had expected was a positive relationship with you. He had heard so many different rumors from credible sources, all of them pointing to you as the biggest hurdle to his adoption. He had been told secondhand that you declared him as your ultimate rival; you would stop at nothing to secure your place in the royal family. 

But then Caleb arrived, and to his surprise, all you had ever done was be kind to him.

At first, he was certain it was some sort of ploy. You were smarter than people gave you credit for, after all. There were times when it was hard to believe you were younger than him—sure you would smile and skip around like any young girl your age. But he watched out of the corner of his eye as you would play dumb, but still listen intently to the political discussions at the dinner table. 

Caleb saw it all. 

They way you would wear that serious expression, as if a hundred thoughts were running through your head. It was so easy for others to underestimate you — after all, for years you were apparently a brat who cared little for others' opinions. You would slip on that mask of a clueless child, but Caleb saw the recognition and silent smarts behind those eyes. 

He hadn’t truly believed your change in heart —not until today, when he saw you face the other nobles with nothing but genuine support for him. It would have been the perfect opportunity for you to play your hand, to enforce their doubts and turn them against him before he even had a chance. It would surely secure your position as the favored one. 

But you didn’t. You defended him. You stood by Caleb as prince, even when you thought he wasn’t watching.

And that changed everything.

You had promised to protect him, but really….

He should be the one protecting you.

A few of the other young nobles had approached Caleb, their concern for him obvious as they asked if he was alright or if he was being ‘terrorized’ in his new home. But it was the harsh whispers and the way they spoke about you that really caught his attention. They went on about how you shouldn’t even be a princess, as if it was some sort of scandalous joke.

The words stung him deeply. How could they talk about you like that? To them, you were just a villainess, a troublemaker, someone who didn't deserve the title you held. But Caleb knew better. You had done nothing but show kindness, and they didn’t see that. 

They didn’t understand you the way he did.

Each word seemed to dig into his heart. The injustice of it all—how could they treat you like that? How could they call you such things when you hadn’t done anything to deserve it?

Caleb’s fist clenched at his side. He wanted nothing more than to stand up and shut them all down in an instant, to make them understand the truth about you.

If he had the power, he would silence them all in an instant. 

But he wasn’t in a position to do so yet. 

Not now. 

Not with what little power he had.

But one day, Caleb promised himself, he would be strong enough to protect you from all of it. He would stand by you, shield you from the world that misunderstood you, and make sure no one could ever speak so low of you again.

“It’s not right what they said. If they said it today, then their parents are probably saying it at home. We need to stop them.” You were still talking, your voice full of passion and determination, your words about protecting him echoing in his ears. 

It was fucking adorable.

No, it was more than that. 

It was endearing. 

You were so cute, with your wide eyes and the sincerity in your voice. Caleb couldn’t help but stare, his chest tightening with something he couldn’t quite place. He’d never imagined he’d feel this way about you. It was as if he’d never been seen until now—not truly. The way you looked at him, with admiration and hope, made him feel things he couldn’t control. 

The way you looked at him was the first time anyone had looked at him that way.

It was almost unbelievable how quickly you’d wrapped him around your little finger.

He couldn’t help it. Caleb wanted to hug you, this tiny, fierce little thing, and tuck you safely away in his pocket. He wanted to kiss your forehead, tell you everything would be alright, and protect you from everyone’s judgmental eyes.

“You need to calm down, little one.” His voice was softer than he meant it to be. It felt good to say, though, and it made him think he needed a better nickname for you—something only he could call you, something that would always make you feel safe.

You looked at him in surprise. “Wha—?”

He smirked, the warmth in his gaze almost imperceptible but there, his voice teasing. “It’s okay, pipsqueak. We’ll figure it out together.”

For the first time, Caleb saw the faintest hint of relief flicker in your eyes. You were always so strong, so determined. But in that moment, he could see you didn’t have to carry everything on your shoulders alone.

You had Caleb now, and he was going to make sure you knew it.

.

.

.

.

.

As the years passed, your relationship with Caleb deepened in ways neither of you had expected. 

Sure, you were close, and yeah, you had a good relationship—but it was more than that. There was an ease between you, a rhythm that just worked.

Like when you teased him about his absolutely atrocious sleeping posture, arms and legs sprawled out like a starfish, or how he held his sword too stiffly, like he was trying to impress a portrait painter instead of actually fighting. He’d roll his eyes at you, biting back a grin, always ready with some sarcastic retort.

“Keep talking, pipsqueak.” He’d say, his nickname for you rolling off his tongue easily, giving you a pointed look. “At least I don’t trip over my own feet during training.”

And of course, you’d gasp in mock offense, because excuse you , that was one time.

Or when Caleb caught you struggling to lift a training sword that was just a little too heavy, and instead of helping, the young prince leaned casually against the nearest wall, watching you with a smirk.

“Want me to get you a smaller one?” he teased, tilting his head. “Maybe a wooden stick? Or a butter knife?”

But through it all, there was laughter—a laughter that felt more genuine the more time you spent together.

Sometimes Caleb would invite you to his swordsmanship training, where you would watch him spar with the other knights with ease. Other times the perfect Prince would play hooky, the two of you sneaking around the kitchen as Caleb cooked up some of your favorite dishes. There were nights that the young prince would sneak into your room, a book in hand for you to read together. Or better yet, lazy days where you lounged and spoke about the future.

Your parents had watched your relationship with Caleb grow from a distance, at first skeptical, but soon seeing the positive changes in you they were grateful for the near one-eighty transformation. It was clear that Caleb had brought out a side of you they hadn’t known existed—more open, more considerate. They began to see how much you needed each other, how you made each other better.

Even the King, who had once kept you at arm's length, started to attend more family meals. It was subtle at first—small gestures of acknowledgment, shared conversations during dinner—but over time, those moments grew. The King’s walls came down just a little, and you could feel the shift in the way he saw both you and Caleb.

“Caleb!” You exclaimed as you struggled to keep up, “Slow down!”

But he only smiled as he looked back at you, still urging you to go faster. “Come on, pipsqueak. We have got to see this.”

Caleb all but dragged you through the winding streets, his grip firm yet careful, like he had done this a thousand times before—which, to be fair, he had. This year, just like every year before, the two of you had managed to sneak out of the palace for the annual festival celebrating the latest advancements in technology. 

And, just like every year, Caleb was way too excited about it.

Of course you attended during the day, but simply as Prince and Princess behind a bevy of knights and rules of propriety. You visited the vendors the King listed and were only there to make political moves, rather than actually enjoy the festival. Tonight, you were both adorned in cloaks and doing your best to look casual.

“Come on, pipsqueak, keep up!” he called over his shoulder, his steps light with barely contained energy.

You huffed, jogging slightly to match his pace. “I am keeping up, you long-legged menace! Not all of us can clear half a street in one step.”

He snorted, but didn’t slow down. The streets were alive with glowing lanterns, bustling vendors, and the rhythmic hum of machinery being demonstrated at every corner. Inventors showed off new gadgets, clockwork creations, and even early prototypes of steam-powered contraptions. The air smelled of roasted chestnuts, spiced cider, and the faint metallic tang of burning coal.

“What made you so excited this year?” You asked back.

“I saw something interesting earlier. Father showed me some prototypes they have in the military—but this was for civilians.” Caleb’s explanation was frustratingly vague as he navigated you through the sea of festival-goers, his grip firm on your wrist so you wouldn’t get swallowed up by the crowd.

“Showed you what exactly?” You questioned. 

But Caleb ignored your direct question, instead pulling you forward with long strides. You stumbled slightly, grumbling under your breath, before he abruptly stopped in front of the main stage. Without warning, he maneuvered you in front of him, effectively trapping you against his chest. His arm looped around your middle like a seatbelt, keeping you securely in place.

“Check it out yourself.”

Your teen body was still a bit too short to fully see over the heads of the mob, but thanks to Caleb’s positioning, you had a direct line of sight to the stage. At the center of it all, an overly enthusiastic announcer— a hype man, if you will —was working the crowd like his life depended on it.

“No longer will we be limited to the Earth! No longer will you have to stare longingly at the sky!” The announcer’s voice boomed with theatrical flair, making the audience practically vibrate with anticipation. “ Behold! A machine that can finally level the playing field between man and bird!”

The dramatic arm flourish that followed would’ve put an entire theater troupe to shame. The crowd let out a collective gasp, murmurs of awe and wonder rippling through them as they pointed toward the so-called machine.

At the center of it all: An aircraft.

More like an early prototype, maybe even the first of its kind for civilians in this world—a wooden, rickety contraption that looked one strong gust of wind away from becoming kindling. But still, it was an aircraft nonetheless.

Your mind reeled at the sight. As a transmigrator, this wasn’t some far-off, impossible feat. You knew exactly where this kind of technology was headed. One day, people wouldn’t just be testing these things in controlled environments; they’d be hurling themselves through the sky at 600 miles per hour while complaining about airline food.

You tore your gaze away to look at Caleb, who was already looking at you for your reaction. It seemed whatever he was looking for was not there, but you attempted to look surprised.

Keeping your voice low. “Have you seen something like this actually fly before?”

The Prince leaned forward, his chin rubbing against your shoulder as he got closer to your personal space. “Once. Father showed me a few months back.”

“Did you get to fly it yourself?”

Caleb sighed in reply. “Absolutely not. He didn’t even let me near the seat.”

You raised an eyebrow. “He’s probably just being careful. This technology is so new—”

“Pah, whatever,” Caleb huffed, the sheer offense in his voice almost comical. You could practically feel the shrug in his tone, like he was some grounded bird, bitter about being denied his rightful place in the sky.

“If it’s worth anything, I think you’d make an amazing pilot, Caleb.” You attempted to reassure him.

Caleb looked at you with a strange reaction, a smile that was not quite complete. You wondered briefly if you somehow said the wrong thing, but the announcer pulled you out of your thoughts and back to the showcase. 

The festival buzzed around you, lanterns swaying overhead as laughter and excited chatter filled the air. The scent of candied nuts and roasted meat wafted through the streets, making your stomach growl despite your best efforts to ignore it.

Caleb’s grip around your waist tightened slightly as another surge of people pushed past. You could practically feel the excuse forming in his head—something about keeping you from getting lost in the crowd, when really, you knew he just didn’t want to let go. 

Not that you minded.

After the showcase, the two of you wandered through the festival, checking out the vendors and admiring the odd trinkets on display. Every so often, Caleb’s hand found yours, his fingers curling around yours in a steady hold. Absentmindedly, you squeezed his hand as you weaved through the stalls, your attention caught by every new sight.

“Souvenirs! Get a keepsake from the festival!” A vendor’s voice cut through the noise, and your head snapped in their direction.

Caleb barely had time to react before you were tugging him toward the stall with the enthusiasm of someone about to rob it blind. 

He arched a brow, his stance wary. “Pip.” 

You gave him your best pout and wide-eyes, putting your closed fists below your chin. Of course, Caleb always gave in to you. With one last exhale of exaggerated suffering, he nodded. You beamed, bouncing on your heels before dragging him forward with victorious enthusiasm.

The vendor greeted you both with a warm smile. “Welcome, welcome! Trinkets or jewelry for the happy couple?”

You blinked, cheeks heating. Caleb, ever composed, didn’t even flinch. He simply shrugged. “Just looking around, but thanks.”

You busied yourself scanning the collection of necklaces, rings, and small carved figurines. These were the moments you cherished—simple, quiet moments where it was just you and Caleb, no looming storylines, no dramatic conflicts, no Webtoon fate breathing down your neck.

You knew it wouldn’t last forever. Eventually, the events of the story would begin, and Caleb would be swept up into the plot, into his destined role, into someone else’s arms.

But for now?

You wanted something to remember this moment by.

The display case was packed with all sorts of trinkets—some elegant and shimmering with gold and jewels, others clearly meant to be more fun and lighthearted. There were rings with tiny animal carvings, necklaces shaped like fruit, and even a few that looked like they were made from polished seashells. Your fingers hovered over the glass as you admired the options, your eyes darting between cute and ridiculous.

Caleb wandered back to your side, hands casually tucked into his pockets. “Oh, I might get that one,” he murmured.

Curious, you followed his gaze—only to snort at what you saw. “A strawberry charm? You?”

He rolled his eyes and flicked your forehead lightly. “No, for you , pipsqueak. Aren’t they your favorite?”

You rubbed your forehead with an exaggerated pout. “You do too much for me, Caleb.” You mumbled, feeling a bit guilty. “I wanted to get a charm to remember this moment, you know? Something special.”

“Nothing is too much.” He countered smoothly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Before you could argue, the vendor clapped his hands together, eyes twinkling. “Ah yes, the beautiful couple! I see you’re admiring this lovely strawberry necklace.”

“Yes, it’s really cute,” you admitted, tilting your head at it.

“Perfect for young couples!” the vendor continued enthusiastically. “In fact, this necklace is part of a matching set. Usually, girls get them with their close friends—but please, take a look.”

He reached into the case and pulled out a second necklace, an apple one, from behind the counter, placing it beside the strawberry one. Before you could even process what was happening, the two necklaces snapped together with a soft clink , drawn to each other like they had a mind of their own.

“Whoa.” Your eyes widened.

The vendor grinned. “This is the latest in our collection! We’ve incorporated new technology called magnets! These necklaces are designed to find each other and magnetize, just like two pieces of a puzzle!”

You gasped dramatically. “Ugh, they’re so cute!”

“Let’s get them,” Caleb said, already sounding like he’d made up his mind. “We’ll match.”

You bit your lip, clearly torn. “I want them so bad, but you do realize Mother and Father would never let us wear them, right?”

Caleb shrugged, completely unfazed. “So? Wear it at night. I’ll wear mine too.”

You stared at him, deliberating for a solid five seconds before sighing. You really wanted them. Before you could make up your mind, Caleb had already nodded to the vendor, sliding the payment over and taking the set into his own hands.

“Caleb!” You gasped, scandalized. “That was supposed to be a gift from me to you!”

But he only smiled, utterly pleased with himself, and leaned his head against yours, his voice low and warm. “Get me something else next time.”

You both stepped out of the tent, Caleb still clutching the little baggie with the matching necklaces inside. He put a hand on your shoulder and turned you around with an exaggerated flourish, pushing your hair aside like some cheesy romance scene. The next thing you knew, he was draping the necklace around your neck.

“Beautiful.” The young prince muttered softly and you could practically feel his words brush against your skin.

You looked up at him, feigning innocence. “It is, isn’t it?” You said, referring to the necklace, but it was hard to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at his tone. Caleb just smiled, like he had everything figured out.

“Alright, your turn.” He replied, tilting his head with a playful grin.

You turned him around, his height making it difficult to reach around his neck to fasten the chain. You struggled for a moment, trying to get it just right, your hands accidentally brushing against his collarbone. But after a few fumbling attempts, you finally managed to get it in place, staring at the necklace with a sense of accomplishment.

“Now we’re matching,” Caleb said, his voice surprisingly low as his fingers traced the chain around his neck. He was obviously savoring the moment, and honestly, you were too.

You grinned up at him. “Thank you, Caleb. I love you!”

His smile softened, his eyes crinkling at the edges, and he leaned down, nuzzling his head into yours with a warmth that made your heart flutter. “Love you too, pipsqueak.”

The walk back to the palace was filled with comfortable silence—just the two of you, strolling through the festival grounds like nothing out of the ordinary was going on. When you reached the usual hideout at the gardens, you shed your cloaks and tucked them beneath the gazebo, making sure they were out of sight in the chest.

“By the way…” Caleb suddenly started, breaking the quiet.

“Yeah?” You asked absently, your mind already half on the palace and the safety of your cozy, secretive routine.

“How did you know that the driver of an aircraft is called a ‘pilot’?”

Your brain immediately froze. You didn’t stop walking, but your feet might as well have turned to concrete. There was no panic, just complete and utter blankness. You could feel your heartbeat speed up in your chest, but you did your best to keep it cool. No way would any lie fool Caleb—especially with his full, unwavering attention now on you.

“Lucky guess?” You still attempted nonetheless.

Caleb gave you the most deadpan look imaginable. “Yeah, right.” He shook his head, clearly not buying it. “Really not gonna tell me?”

“Nope.”

“You say a lot of weird things sometimes…” Caleb mused, his face unreadable as other thoughts flew behind those purple eyes. There was no way he knew you were a transmigrator, right? “Still not gonna tell me why?”

You, however, were not about to crack. You pointed dramatically to the sky, trying your best to feign innocence. “Would you look at that—I think it’s going to rain. We should run back and never speak of this again.”

“So it is something… ” His gaze was changing, curious and now suddenly serious. “Something you won’t tell me.”

Your brain was screaming for a way out of this conversation, but instead, you just shrugged and decided to go with your gut.

Fuck it.

And without another word, you booked it —straight towards the palace, sprinting as fast as you could in an all-out panic.

Caleb called your name twice as he laughed, his voice laced with amusement and a hint of something more—he clearly enjoyed having pinpointed something and backing you into a corner you mentally. You could practically hear the wheels turning in his head, like he was about to crack open the truth. But, for the moment, he thankfully didn’t push it any further. Instead, he just shook his head with a knowing grin and let it slide.

The next morning, however, he didn’t mention it again. You figured that was it, that you’d dodged a bullet. But breakfast came with a whole new set of problems. The King, seated at the head of the grand dining table, was less than pleased with your little escapade the night before. He’d caught wind of your nocturnal activities somehow—how, you had no clue, but you both quickly adopted the strategy of looking down at your plates, trying to appear completely innocent.

You and Caleb exchanged a quick glance, both of you silently debating who would be the first to get caught in a lie. In the end, you both did what you were best at— lying through your teeth —promising the King, in unison, that this was the last time you’d sneak out like that.

The King, of course, didn’t believe it for a second. He just gave you both a pointed look, clearly not impressed with your theatrics. But, for that moment, he let it go—whether it was because he was too tired to chase down the matter or because he had bigger things to worry about, you couldn’t say.

And life continued on. Your relationship with Caleb flourished in the usual way—random sleepovers in your room where you stayed up late chatting about everything and nothing, long walks through the palace gardens where you both found a rare kind of peace in the quiet corners of the world, and, of course, sneaking out yet again to explore night markets or stumble into some other harmless mischief.

But all of that was about to change, significantly.

The true test of your relationship came on the day of Caleb’s official ceremony—the day he was named Crown Prince. It had been months since that awkward conversation, and during that time, Caleb had become more and more involved in the affairs of the kingdom. But today, everything was about to shift.

It was the grand event of the year. Everyone was gathered in the palace’s largest ballroom, the air heavy with anticipation. Servants moved swiftly, preparing for the arrival of the King, Queen, and the rest of the noble class of the entire country. Caleb stood at the center of the room, a picture of calm, though you could feel the weight of the moment settling on his shoulders. 

This was it—the day he would be officially recognized as the Crown Prince, the heir to the throne, the one who would eventually carry the kingdom forward.

It was a significant milestone in the Webtoon—one that would solidify his position as the future King. As expected, there were the old nobles, those who were reluctant to accept an adopted child’s rise to power. Some had always viewed him as an outsider and questioned his claim to the throne, but you would not allow that to happen.

You stood by Caleb’s side, cheering him on as the ceremony progressed. In the original story, the Villainess hatched a plot to steal the crown, but was foiled when she accidentally injured herself. 

Instead, you spent the day cornering the influential Loyalist nobles, applying gentle but firm pressure to get their support for Caleb. It wasn’t just about being a supportive sister—it was about making sure that Caleb had the backing he deserved, ensuring that he wouldn’t be undermined by petty politics.

As Caleb stepped up to claim his title, your gaze never wavered from him. You knew what it meant for him—what it meant for both of you. And no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would always be there, standing by his side, ready to fight for him and his future.

The crown gleamed brilliantly atop his head as Caleb danced the night away, the golden light of the chandeliers catching on its edges. Many noble daughters had eagerly lined up, vying for his attention and near begging him for a dance. Yet, when he turned to you and extended his hand for the first dance of the night, you felt a warmth rise to your cheeks.

At first glance, the moment felt out of place. In the original novel, this dance had been reserved for a Loyalist Duke’s daughter—a calculated move to win her father’s favor and secure a valuable political alliance. She had been utterly enamored with him and the dance had been an opportunity to sway them to his side. 

But now, with you working on his side, even working behind the scenes to pull more nobles into Caleb’s fold, perhaps this was an even stronger message—a show of unwavering trust between you and the soon-to-be ruler, a signal to the nation’s most powerful players.

The night passed in a blur of music and laughter, the kind that made everything feel light, as if the weight of the world could be suspended in the air for just a little while. You danced with abandon, letting the rhythm of the music take over, drank freely, and indulged in the lavish feast spread out before you. For once, there were no worries, no expectations—just the thrill of a well-earned celebration. Tonight, it wasn’t about your role or the work you put in the past few years; it was about pure, simple enjoyment. And you allowed yourself to be wrapped in that feeling, even if just for a few hours.

“May I have this dance?” The voice cut through the haze of your thoughts, smooth and familiar.

You looked up to find Zayne standing before you, his handsome face framed by the glow of the chandeliers, the same calm and collected expression he always wore.

You couldn’t help but smile back, the tension in your chest momentarily easing. “Of course.”

His hand extended toward you, his fingers lightly brushing against yours, as if to ask permission before taking the next step. You placed your hand in his, and he guided you gracefully toward the dancefloor.

Zayne’s touch was gentle, refined even, as he held you at just the right distance. It was the kind of dance where no one needed to rush; the kind where you could simply follow the flow of everyone else. His hands remained respectfully placed, his fingers never straying from their assigned position, and it should have been perfect. 

And yet—something felt off.

It wasn’t Zayne, the problem wasn’t him at all. He was a gentleman, a prince in every sense, smooth and controlled. But you couldn’t help but compare the way he moved with the way Caleb would.

Caleb.

When Caleb held you during dances, there was always this… weight to it. A closeness that was more than just the formalities of a waltz. Caleb was the type to laugh as he pulled you close, his arm easily draping around your waist. His hand would sometimes linger on the small of your back, pulling you just a little bit closer, as if to claim you without saying it out loud. And when it was just the two of you practicing in the empty halls, Caleb would lean his chin onto your shoulder or press his forehead against yours, all without a second thought, as if there was no space between the two of you.

What the hell was wrong with you?

Why were you wasting this moment, this perfect opportunity to enjoy the night, by thinking about Caleb of all people? You needed to stop doing this. Caleb was never meant to be yours. He was the Crown Prince. Your connection to him was nothing more than a fleeting brush with fate that you had changed with the skin of your teeth.

You were a background character in a sea of many—someone who wasn’t supposed to stay in his life. And yet, here you were, comparing every touch, every movement, to Caleb’s way of holding you. It was foolish.

You forced a smile, focusing back on Zayne, trying to drown out the voice in your head. It didn’t work. The feeling of Caleb’s touch lingered in your mind like a stubborn echo, refusing to let you focus on anything else.

“When you’re thinking hard, there’s a small little scrunch in the corner of your nose.” Zayne interrupted your thoughts.

You blinked at him, caught off guard, then let a playful smile tug at your lips. “What?”

“Just an observation.” He smirked slightly, his eyes bright with silent amusement. Zayne was always the type to speak in puzzles. “Isn’t it odd that Caleb was able to become Crown Prince without a marriage arrangement?”

In the original timeline, Caleb didn’t have an official marriage arrangement either—but that was because of the villainess. No Loyalist would ever dare offer up their daughter to someone with so much political risk, especially not when the villainess' wrath was such a powerful force in the background. But with the villainess gone it didn’t make sense that Caleb hadn’t been paired with a partner to strengthen his claim, secure alliances, or at least get the political show rolling.

You stared at Zayne for a moment, feeling like you were being handed just a singular puzzle piece to a much larger, far more complicated picture. “That is odd,” you agreed, your voice neutral, trying not to show the small crack of concern creeping into your chest. 

You hadn’t really thought about it before, at least not seriously. But now that Zayne had brought it up, it was impossible to ignore the gap in Caleb’s royal trajectory. Why hadn't he been matched? The King surely knew better. And how had Caleb convinced the King to crown him without such a crucial piece of the puzzle?

Zayne tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing just enough to let you know he wasn’t done with this line of questioning. “Any theories?”

You hesitated, your gaze drifting to the floor as you fought back a wave of suspicion. There was something about Zayne’s casual curiosity that felt calculated, like he was baiting you to answer in a way that would reveal something you weren’t meant to know. But your mind wasn’t exactly working at full capacity, and you had a feeling he knew that.

For a brief moment, you wondered if Caleb had simply convinced the King with charm and perseverance, but then… no. There had to be more at play. And the more you thought about it, the more it felt personal. Like Zayne was asking you not just about Caleb’s strategy but about something that involved you , somehow.

You shrugged and continued to follow Zayne’s lead, spinning here and there with a grace fine tuned over the years. “Politics goes over my head, I’m afraid.” You diverted with a light chuckle, trying to sidestep the lingering feeling in the air.

Zayne’s eyes glinted with mischief as he smirked at you. “Do not take me for a fool.” His voice was teasing, but there was a sharpness to his gaze. “Just watching you think is enough.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little, shaking your head. His words made it sound like he was studying you, cataloging every little expression. You chose to steer the conversation elsewhere before you could think too much about that. “And how did you get named a successor without an engagement?” You questioned back, raising an eyebrow in playful curiosity.

Zayne’s smile faltered slightly, and a flicker of confusion passed over his face. "Not without trying,” he said, his voice holding a hint of something you couldn’t quite place. His gaze didn’t waver, though, and it made you pause for a second, wondering what he was really trying to say with that.

“And who’s the lucky lady?” You pushed, leaning in just a bit, your curiosity piqued.

Zayne stopped dancing for a beat, and when you looked at him, both of you stood there, staring at each other. His eyes held a serious intensity that was hard to ignore, and suddenly, you felt a little small. Was there something about this whole engagement thing you should have known? You racked your brain, trying to dig through the plot of the original novel to recall any mention of a potential match for him. But no matter how hard you thought, you came up blank.

Before you could ask any more questions, a voice cut through the silence. “Sorry, it’s about time I cut in.”

You turned to your side, startled by Caleb’s sudden interruption. His palm was raised toward you, and there was something unreadable in his expression.

Zayne didn’t seem bothered by it at all. He simply blinked, the same smirk still playing on his lips. “The song hasn’t even ended yet.”

But Caleb didn’t respond. He just stared at Zayne, and for the briefest of moments, the tension in the air felt almost tangible—like the room was holding its breath. It was a quiet standoff, with neither man backing down.

Since when did this happen?

You blinked, confusion swirling in your mind as you glanced back and forth between the two of them. The last time you checked, Zayne and Caleb were practically allies, working side by side. Zayne had even been one of Caleb’s most trusted advisors after he was named successor to the Duke. He was strong, intelligent, and fiercely protective of his territory—but Caleb had also given him the space to pursue his passion for medicine. You'd never sensed any rivalry between them before.

But now, it was like they were sizing each other up. Caleb’s chin tilted slightly upward, his posture straightening as if he were asserting dominance without even saying a word. 

“And here’s the reason.” Zayne said simply, his voice cutting through your confusion. You blinked at him, momentarily forgetting what you’d been talking about before Caleb made his dramatic entrance.

Before you could gather your thoughts, Caleb took you into his arms with practiced ease, his body warm and familiar against yours. He didn’t say anything, just letting the silence settle between the two of you as the next song began. And then another one followed, the music swirling around you both.

If you were anyone else, you’d think Caleb’s silence and the way he kept you close was the result of a jealous boyfriend. 

But you knew Caleb. He wasn’t the type to get territorial over something like a dance. No, this was different. The way he held you—like he was shielding you from something, or perhaps someone—had an edge to it that made your stomach twist uncomfortably. You danced with Caleb, moving through

You were not blind nor were you stupid. This was weird behavior from the Crown Prince, almost possessive in the way he showcased you around the ballroom for all other young men your age to see. Sure, he was preening like a young peacock, but you expected that from someone who was just named as the Future King.

Whatever, it would do you no good to look into it. Nope. Do not overthink this.

Do not get your hopes up.

Once the dance was over, you put on your very best face despite the let down in mood. You reminded yourself again and again, but your heart wasn’t so easily convinced. After all, this was Caleb. 

Your Caleb.

But also not your Caleb.

The main character of a story you had no place in. His future was already laid out for him, like some plotline you didn’t get to edit. Even after everything, after all the late-night talks, the laughter, the shared glances—nothing had changed. You were still a side character in his world, and he would never be your Caleb.

The night dragged on as you went through the motions, exchanging pleasantries with nobles, faking smiles as you continued to put on your best face. You’d stay just long enough to support Caleb, but as the evening wore down and the guests started leaving, your energy left with them. You made your escape to your room, eager for a moment of peace — to be off your feet with a good, smutty book.

Once you closed the door behind you, it felt like a weight lifted from your shoulders. You were free to just be. You quickly shed the layers of formality—the corset that had been digging into your ribs all evening, the dress that felt too stiff and too tight for comfort. In its place, you slipped into smooth, silky loungewear that made you feel like yourself again, no longer the polished princess, but just you.

You sighed as your maid carefully removed the last of your expensive jewels, and your fingers subconsciously toyed with the strawberry charm Caleb had bought for you. You hadn’t even realized it, but somehow, the necklace had become your little comfort, a reminder of a moment when he’d given you something without any strings attached. A rare, sweet gesture.

Your maid worked silently behind you, carefully undoing the intricate twists of your hairstyle, the pins one by one laying on the vanity you were sat in front of. You were half-zoning out, lost in the feel of the soft necklace against your skin, when a knock at the door broke the silence.

“Come in,” you said, not even looking up, thinking it was probably a guard or a servant. But when the door opened and you heard a familiar voice, your heart skipped a beat.

"It’s me, pip."

You didn’t even need to look to know who it was. Caleb. Of course, it would be him. Who else would crash your solitude so casually?

Caleb strolled in, grinning, looking every bit the carefree prince he was. Without a second thought, he collapsed face-first onto your bed, spreading his arms wide, completely unbothered by his appearance as he squished his face into the blankets. It was a moment of pure, unapologetic Caleb. 

Your maid, who had been hoping for a little more time to wash your hair tonight, sighed deeply but didn’t complain. She quietly bowed, understanding that her royal duties weren’t going to be finished tonight. With a resigned look, she excused herself, giving you one last look before slipping out of the room.

Caleb rolled over onto his back, his eyes still locked on the ceiling, hands resting behind his head. “You looked beautiful tonight.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to pretend that his compliment didn’t make your heart do a little flip. You stood up to face him fully. “Thanks, but don’t think I’m letting you off the hook that easily for earlier.”

He sighed, pretending to be caught. “Oh, come on, I was just trying to help. You were lost in thought. Was I really that bad?”

"Don't act all innocent. I saw that look between you and Zayne. What's going on with you two?"

Caleb’s playful grin faltered for just a second. You watched him, knowing he wasn’t going to tell you everything, but there was something there. Something you had to get to the bottom of. But right now, you didn’t feel like pushing him. Tonight, at least, you could let the festivities keep the lighthearted mood.

He chuckled and looked over at you, eyes twinkling with mischief. "You're too nosy, you know that?"

"Maybe, but you never tell me anything real." You shot back.

“I tell you everything.” He countered, eyes closed as he spread out. “Tonight was exhausting.”

He looked every bit the part—his hair mussed from hours of dancing and the weight of his military-esque uniform hanging loosely on his body. It was a little unbuttoned, the fabric shifting awkwardly like it had given up on trying to stay neat. You could tell he’d indulged more than usual, especially after all the nobles and even your father, the straight-faced King, insisted that Caleb let loose and enjoy himself.

“You did not just get your outside clothes on my bed.” You grumbled, nudging him lightly with your foot before going back to your vanity. You were trying to be annoyed, but honestly, it was hard when he was laying there looking so relaxed and carefree. “And you love it.”

“I don’t love the attention,” he muttered, sighing dramatically.

“Oh, please.” You teased as you continued your maid’s earlier work undoing your hair, one pin at a time. “You looooove being in charge.”

He cracked a playful eye to look at you. “Yeah, I do.”

As you continued to take out the pins from your hair, you noticed him sprawled out comfortably, his head resting on your pillows like it was the most natural thing in the world. You glanced at him over your shoulder. “Is there a particular reason you’ve commandeered my bed?”

Caleb rolled his eyes, and you could almost hear the exhaustion in his voice. “I slept here yesterday, pip. If you want, we can go to my room instead.”

“That’s different!” You raised an eyebrow, pointing at him as you returned to your task of pulling out the last few pins from your hair. “You don’t look tired at all. You’ve still got that cocky little smile on your face.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, stretching his arms above his head. “No, I’m not tired.” His face betrayed him, though, looking a little too content to be anything but pleased with himself.

“Well then,” you shot back with a playful grin, “go back down to the party! It’s for you after all.”

The party was winding down, the loud chatter and music slowly giving way to softer conversations and the occasional drunken laugh. Even if most of the guests had started to leave, you knew there were still plenty of nobles lingering, enjoying the free drinks and the few songs left to be played.

Caleb’s smile stretched even wider, that dopey, proud grin taking over his face. And who could blame him? Today had been his day. He’d officially been named Crown Prince, the King giving a long, glowing speech about Caleb’s accomplishments over the years before proudly naming him as his successor. It was no surprise, really—Caleb had always been groomed for this moment.

But tonight? Tonight, he was the most eligible bachelor in the entire nation. Everyone knew it, and he certainly wasn’t shy about letting that fact sink in.

You caught yourself smiling softly at him, even as you tried to busy yourself with your reflection. It was a strange feeling, watching Caleb bask in his success. It was a far cry from the boy who would hide away in the gardens and cry himself until no more tears would fall. You had always known this day would come, but now that it was here, it felt... surreal. 

You were proud of him, of course. But still, there was a lingering part of you that wanted to forget that this future he was stepping into wasn’t one that included you in the way you might have hoped.

“Everything I need is right here,” Caleb said, his voice shifting as he stood up from the bed, sensing the sudden change in your mood. His usual confident demeanor softened, but only slightly. He stripped off his jacket, tossing it carelessly over the nearby table, before walking toward you.

Before you could even register what was happening, his fingers were threading gently through your hair, working out the pins you’d missed. His touch was steady, familiar, and the simple gesture made your chest tighten in a way you didn’t expect. You caught his eyes in the mirror a couple of times, and something in you couldn’t stop yourself from speaking.

“I love you, Caleb,” you whispered, a quiet confession that you hadn’t meant to say out loud. It just slipped out, the weight of everything in the air between you.

Caleb’s response was almost automatic, his voice light with affection. “Love you too, pipsqueak.”

You blinked back at him in the mirror, feeling the tension building in your chest. For a moment, you weren’t sure if he really got it. But before you could think too much about it, your hands finished undoing the braid in your hair, the last few strands coming loose as Caleb, still standing behind you, unbuttoned his shirt further.

“What the hell are you doing?” You asked, slightly confused as you watched him.

“It’s ridiculously hot in here, pip.” His voice was casual.

You rolled your eyes, but there was no hiding the way your heart rate picked up. “That’s why I always tell you to change into your pajamas before you come over here.”

“Too far. Too comfortable,” Caleb grinned, unphased as he fell back onto your bed. In a single motion he ripped his shirt off completely, throwing it aside on the ground without a care in the world.

You could barely stop yourself from staring.

His chest, bare and muscular, was right there in front of you. His abs were sculpted, his skin warm with the afterglow of the celebration, and for a moment, you didn’t even care about the fact that you should not be looking at him this way. You were supposed to be adopted siblings bound by fate, not whatever the hell this was. But then, he was Caleb. 

And the last time you checked, brothers and sisters didn’t act like this.

Sometimes, in the summer, when he’d be training, he’d shed his top, and you would casually catch glances of him from your balcony. It was not on purpose (at least not at first), but you would be reading at certain points of the day and Caleb knew you would be watching. But here, in your room, with him sprawled out on your bed— it felt like some twisted test from the universe.

You couldn’t help yourself. Your gaze roamed over his chiseled abs, the defined lines that traced down to his waist with veins that protruded just enough to catch your gaze. Your eyes followed the path lower, and you noticed the faint glint of metal around his neck. Your breath hitched when you realized what it was.

The matching Apple necklace. 

The one you’d given him.

Shit.

Fuck, were you ovulating or something? Just the thought that Caleb had worn your gift on the most important day of his life had gone straight downward. Oh shit. You were staring for too long.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by a quiet, almost amused cough from Caleb. His mischievous gaze caught yours, and you realized that he'd seen you ogling him— caught you red-handed.

“Don’t.” You started, but your voice was more flustered than you’d meant it to be.

Caleb simply shook his head, that cocky grin of his spreading wider. “No, no. Today’s my day. You said it yourself. Don’t pretend that didn’t happen.”

Your stomach twisted, the room suddenly feeling a thousand degrees hotter. His words, that smile, the way he was looking at you now—it was all too much. The line between the two of you was starting to blur, and you couldn’t decide if that was the best or worst thing to happen.

You tried to steer the conversation away from the obvious weight in the air. “You wore the Apple necklace on a day like this?”

“Of course I did. Needed all the support I could get today. And that definitely included your token of love for me.”

He was practically lounging like some regal cat, his arms behind his head, his chest stretched out, and his abs doing their best to make you reconsider every decision you’d ever made. The sight of his slutty Dorito waist was enough to make you question your self-control. What the hell was that even? Was it illegal for someone to look that good?

What the fuck. 

Flashes of the original 18+ Webtoon came to mind. The Caleb in the novel had an insatiable libido fostered by a complete lack of any romance or affection for almost his entire life. Once he and the female love interest had confessed their love, it was almost embarrassing to think about how much he craved her. He would take her gently in his bed, against the hallway wall with his hand on her mouth to silence her, in the gardens where every passing knight could hear them.

Fuck.

No.

This was your Caleb.

You shook your head vigorously, trying to dislodge any impure thoughts. Nope. Not happening. You were not going to go down that road. Not with Caleb. Not tonight. Not ever. 

“Caleb, why are you here?” You asked, trying to sound casual, but your voice came out a little too breathy for comfort.

“I wanna sleep here. C’mon.” He motioned for you to join him on your bed.

It wasn’t rare for you two to cuddle and fall asleep together, but not like this! He hadn’t even bothered to get his pajamas and instead opted to just strip down.

“No way.” You crossed your arms, glancing pointedly at the bed.

What?” Caleb pouted, batting those damn eyelashes of his. “Come on, pip. At least grant me this today!” He raised his eyebrows, his playful smile still very much intact, but there was something else in his eyes—something that made you feel like you were both teetering on the edge of something you couldn’t quite name.

“Do ya have to be naked?” You finally asked, unable to hide the hint of frustration in your voice. You didn’t want to admit it, but the sight of him sprawled out like that was really testing your limits.

“It’s hot.” He explained nonchalantly, as if that was a perfectly reasonable excuse. “And I’m not naked. I’ve got two layers of undergarments on, okay?”

You snorted, trying not to imagine what he was hiding underneath those undershorts. God, when he first undressed in the novel, it was almost insane how many thirsty comments jokingly sent thoughts and prayers to the female love interest. You knew what was being held back, a sword of unparalleled length that you wanted to cast out of your mind.

But Caleb was relentless, his pout deepening as if he were a puppy that hadn’t been fed in days. The sheer audacity of the man.

Fuck it.

“Ugh, fine.” You finally groaned, caving in to his charm and whatever strange hold he had over you. “Turn around, and let me change into my pajamas.”

You had only just changed new indoor lounge clothes — something comfy yet vaguely stylish. You hadn’t planned on going to sleep anytime soon, not with the rollercoaster of emotions you’d been through today. You wanted nothing more than to relax on your balcony, book in hand, a glass of wine swirling in your fingers as the sounds of music from downstairs carried up to you. Just a quiet night, in your own little bubble.

“Those aren’t your pajamas?” Caleb asked, his voice laced with amusement as he eyed your outfit.

“No, I wanted to relax a bit first. But I’ll change now.” You reached for your pajamas, but Caleb wasn’t having it.

“No, no. We don’t have to sleep if you’re not tired.” He shifted to a more comfortable position, clearly settling in for a little more than just casual chatting. “What was it you wanted to do?”

There was a snowball’s chance in hell you were going to tell him what you really wanted to do. 

You didn’t have the guts. It was not rare for Caleb to find you with a book in hand, after all your habits as an avid reader from your previous life had carried over. The knights and maids could expect to find you lakeside, in the garden’s, or even on Caleb’s balcony reading up on some new romantic comedy.

No, today was different.

You had a smutty book. 

You had been discreet about it—waiting until Caleb was away on one of his royal duties in a faraway district  to sneak out and buy it. It was a small victory to get away from your ever-watchful knight, and the moment you stepped into town and found that little shop tucked away in an alley, you felt like you were getting away with something truly naughty.

Some of the other noble daughters your age raved about this particular series featuring a smoldering young man who was somehow both sweet and stoic. Apparently the smutty scenes were addictive and, having gone years without reading a Webtoon, you were eager to get your hands on this literary work.

Your knight had obviously ratted you out when Caleb came back, and you’d spent an hour being chastised for it. But that was nothing compared to the book’s contents. The very specific, very detailed contents.

You reserved it for tonight in particular since you figured it would be the one night that everyone would be busy. Caleb should have been downstairs still enjoying his crowning night and everyone else should have been down there joining him.

So what do you say to Caleb now?

“I just wanted to relax… Sip some wine on my own,” you managed to say, forcing a calm expression as you took a deep breath.

Caleb narrowed his eyes, suspicion creeping in. “Just sitting out there, nothing else?” 

You tried to keep your gaze neutral, but your eyes betrayed you, glancing briefly toward your wardrobe. Caleb, ever the observant one, followed your line of sight. Without missing a beat, he was up and off the bed, moving toward the wardrobe like a predator zeroing in on its prey.

“No, no!” You rushed forward to stop him, but he was quicker. In an instant, he hoisted you onto his shoulders with a cocky grin. You yelped in surprise, pounding your fists against his back.

“Geez, what has you so worked up?” Caleb asked with that same mischievous glint in his eyes. “You know this only makes me more curious.”

“A book? That’s it?” He paused mid-dig, eyes glinting with new, devious amusement.

“Yes, that’s it!” You insisted, squirming in his grasp, trying in vain to snatch the book back from his outstretched hand.

Caleb kept the book just out of reach, his smirk widening with every failed attempt you made to grab it. He tilted his head, studying you, his eyes practically glowing with amusement. “Why are you…” His voice trailed off as he pieced it together. “My, my. Did you get a naughty book, pip?”

Your cheeks burned, and you tried to act unbothered, crossing your arms as he finally set you down on the bed. “And? You’re gonna make fun of me?”

“Not at all,” he drawled, his voice far too smug for your liking. He leaned back onto your pillow, sprawling comfortably like he was in charge of everything in the world—your heart included, apparently. “Come on. Sit next to me. I wanna know what’s so special about it.”

Reluctantly, you climbed in next to him, your body now fully aware of how close he was, how warm he was. You could practically feel the tension crackling between the two of you as you settled into the bed. Caleb’s eyes never left you, and it was hard not to notice how his body was just a little bit too close for comfort. It was as if he was daring you to make a move, to acknowledge that there was more going on here than just a casual read.

You grabbed the book, holding it like a dirty secret. “How far into the book are you?” he asked, leaning into your space with a grin that made you feel seen in ways you weren’t ready for.

“Not much. I just got it a few days ago.” You admitted, glancing at the book with a small sigh. It was stupid, but you couldn’t resist reading the first chapter. You weren’t a saint after all.

The moment you said that, Caleb’s eyes lit up like a switch had been flipped, mind connecting the dots to your actions last week. “So that’s why you ran away? To get a sexy book?”

You felt your insides tighten at the way he said that, his voice dripping with something undeniably provocative. He was leaning way too close now, his gaze hot and unyielding.

“You—!” you stammered, but he was already pushing further, his body practically in yours. His face was so close now that all you could focus on was the feel of him near you, and how every single touch, every glance, felt charged.

He pressed in even more, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Tell me I’m wrong.”

You couldn’t. Because, truthfully, he wasn’t wrong.

A heavy sigh escaped you, your chest heaving just slightly as you looked down at the book, trying to ignore the way your body was reacting to him. “You’re not wrong.”

Without another word, Caleb leaned back again, pulling you close to his side, like it was the most natural thing in the world. The bed creaked under his weight, and you could feel his body so clearly against yours. It was too much, and yet somehow it wasn’t enough.

“Go ahead,” he said, his voice low and teasing as he settled in comfortably. “Start reading it out loud. I wanna know what’s so special about this book.”

And just like that, with the heat between you two so thick you could practically taste it, you began to read—slowly, deliberately, and with a voice that was anything but innocent.

The next passage started with the ball already rolling. The female love interest was still dealing with the prince’s cold exterior, having only agreed to a physical relationship without the feelings just yet.

“She sat on the hay, each small pinprick amplified as she stared up at the Prince’s golden stare. They were quiet, breathing loud even though rain tumbled off the metal roof with each passing second. Her hands came up to his belt with a new meekness, a quiet shyness that even she was not sure about. The prince carded his hand through her hand and pulled her forward, her breath getting faster as she was face to face with his throbbing cock.”

You paused there, voice getting smaller as the scene became more and more sultry. It was still surreal that you were reading this aloud to Caleb of all people.

Caleb let out a low, rumbling chuckle, his eyes never leaving yours. "Sounds like my little princess is feeling a bit nervous, isn't she? I wonder why..." He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "Could it be because of this?" A hand went around your waist, his fingers brushing against the cotton of your nightdress.

You swallowed, trying your best to ignore him. "Her cheeks flushed a pretty pink as she took in the sight of his manhood, thick and hard, jutting out before her. She licked her lips unconsciously, a sudden wave of hunger gripping her. It was electrifying to remember the Prince unraveling from her tongue and she wanted to revel in that feeling again. Two hands squeezed at the base as she stuffed his hard cock down her  throat." 

You paused, feeling your body heat up more than it should with Caleb so close. Your back was pressed against his front, every inch of his chest and waist practically holding you in place. The warmth of him seeped through the thin fabric of your clothes and you couldn’t help but feel the steady rhythm of his breath against your skin. Surely, he could hear how fast your heart was beating. You were way too aware of the fact that you were both in the same bed, wrapped up in the same blanket.

“I’m getting tired.” You feigned, desperately trying to find an excuse to back out of this tension.

“Me too. Look away, pip.”

Before you could even protest, he threw the blanket over himself, the rustle of fabric suddenly louder in the silence. You froze as you felt the subtle shift in the air, and then there was the unmistakable sound of a zipper. A second later, his pants were on the floor, and you swore your entire body heated up in response.

Good god, if anyone walked in they would assume the worst — clothes strewn about as you both laid under your blanket. And while sleepovers in each other’s room was the norm, this felt somehow different.

Caleb settled behind you, his chest pressing against your back in a way that left little to the imagination. He circled his arm around your waist, the movement so natural, so Caleb. His body was like a furnace against yours, and you could feel the heat radiating from him even through the layers of the blanket. There was only a single layer between you both, his fucking underwear of all things.

“You looked so beautiful today.” He murmured again, his voice low and thick with that earlier exhaustion, but still impossibly intimate. His breath tickled your neck, and you shivered, half from the warmth and half from something else.

“Thank you.” You managed, your words barely more than a whisper.

“Did you pick out that dress? Felt like it was matching mine.” He added, his tone had lost that earlier playfulness. You could feel the muscles of his chest expanding with every breath he took and it was like your body was picking up on the subtle rhythm of his.

“Mother and I worked on it together.” You replied, your voice betraying the little bit of tension you were desperately trying to keep under control.

“Ah, you both always have good taste.” He said, his words now drifting, barely audible as exhaustion started pulling him under. But that didn’t make him any less aware of the way his body was pressed to yours, of the way your breathing was a little too shallow and rapid.

His eyes fluttered shut, and for a moment, it felt like everything in the room slowed down. You gently placed your hand on top of his, feeling the solid warmth of his fingers against yours. You didn’t want to disturb him, but at the same time, a part of you was somehow disappointed that the heat of the moment was winding down.

“Congratulations today, my future King.” You whispered, not wanting to wake him, but somehow needing him to hear you.

Caleb curled you closer to him, “Your King. Your Caleb.”

And just like that, everything seemed to settle, the heat between you two turning into a quiet kind of peace, even if there was still something hanging in the air. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, and soon enough, the steady rhythm of his breathing calmed you too.

You slept peacefully, but you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if this moment lasted just a little longer.

The next morning Caleb was still there cuddling you. At some point in the night, you must’ve turned to face each other, and now, with the morning light streaming through the curtains, you were painfully aware of how close you two were. 

You tried not to make a sound, but you couldn’t help it: your eyes immediately shot down to where Caleb’s arm was draped around you. He was only wearing that thin layer, and you were all too aware of how his body was pressed against yours. And then— oh god —you felt it: the unmistakable hardness pressed against your waist.

Your face immediately flushed a deep shade of red, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you found yourself brushing your lips against his nose in a soft, almost too tender kiss. You lingered for a moment, allowing the warmth of the moment to sink in, but then, you knew you had to get up. 

It was a small miracle, really. Caleb, the ever-alert, always-on-his-toes Prince, was still deep in slumber, his chest rising and falling with steady breaths. He was completely out of it, his arm tightening slightly around your waist as if he didn’t want you to leave. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, even as you quietly slipped out from beneath the covers, careful not to wake him.

You were halfway through pulling on your day skirts when your maid entered without so much as a knock. You froze for a moment, but to your surprise, she didn’t even seem fazed by the chaos in the room. Caleb's clothes were still strewn around, his jacket hanging off the back of a chair, his shirt abandoned on the floor with his pants just a few paces away. The bed was a tangled mess of sheets, the reason for the disarray layering there seemingly naked.

You could practically hear your own pulse racing as you fumbled with your blouse.

But your maid? She didn’t blink an eye. Not a single raised eyebrow. No comment about the clearly mismatched situation going on in your room. She just gave a polite nod as she walked in, rolling in a cart with a tea kettle and two matching cups. It was almost like she’d anticipated the whole situation and came prepared with tea of all things.

Her smile was warm, almost too knowing as she greeted you for the morning. “Good morning, Princess. I figured it would be best to procure this special tea for you considering last night.”

“Sure, what for?” You asked, blinking in genuine confusion.

She gave a tiny shake of her head, mirroring your expression. Her eyes darted briefly around the room—looking for something you couldn’t quite place. Whatever it was, she didn’t find it, and her expression softened into a polite, so much so, demeanor.

“Or maybe as a precautionary measure. It’ll still be worthwhile to drink, Princess.”

You were still too confused to question it further, but there was a sinking feeling in your gut that something was off.  Still, you gave your longtime maid the benefit of the doubt. You took the cup she offered, smiling despite the nagging feeling that this was all somehow way beyond you.

“Thank you, I suppose.” You murmured, raising the delicate porcelain cup to your lips. It smelled warm, herbal, and faintly sweet, a comforting scent.

Everyone was smiling at you too much today. And it was starting to feel like you’d walked into the middle of a conspiracy that you’d somehow missed.

You descended from your room to the dining hall, trying your best to act like you weren’t a little confused by the way every single person you passed seemed to shine with a little extra enthusiasm. Knights tipped their hats to you with exaggerated politeness, and even some maids blushed at you as you passed. You caught one of them whispering to another, and then they both giggled like they were in on some hilarious inside joke that you were apparently not invited to.

You feigned not reacting to their expressions, keeping your face neutral—though the curious looks from them, followed by the soft giggles, had you feeling like you were in an episode of a very awkward, very confusing soap opera. 

Yes Caleb had one of the best nights of his life yesterday, but had something else happened? Maybe a noble who had just a little too much to drink? Or a member of the staff who got caught doing the nasty again?

When you entered the dining room for breakfast, you only saw your mother, the Queen, sitting at the far end of the table. She was already picking at some kind of omelet with way too much finesse, her eyes flicking up as soon as you walked in. The moment her gaze locked on you, her face broke into a knowing smirk, one that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. 

“Had a good evening?”

“Exhausting. I’m glad the ceremony is over.” You replied, trying your best to keep your tone neutral while you scooped a bit of your own breakfast onto your plate.

She glanced down at her food, the corner of her mouth curving up into that same smirk—the one that nearly everyone had been throwing in your direction today. “I’m sure Caleb is as antsy as you are.”

You blinked at her, raising an eyebrow. “Really? I thought it’s always been understood that he was meant to be the next King.”

“That’s not what I…” Her eyes flicked back up to you, and for a moment, the smirk faded just a bit, like she was trying to measure how much to say next. With her next words, her voice dropped to a tone that was both sweet and dangerous. “Sweetheart, did you and Caleb spend the night together?”

“Yes, another sleepover as usual. But he was equally as exhausted. I helped him fall asleep to some light reading.”

“His coronation night and you… read to him?” She smiled to herself. 

“Something wrong?” You asked back.

She shook her head, though it was more like she was suppressing a laugh. The smirk on her face slipped into a small, knowing chuckle as she took another bite of her omelet. You just stared at her, utterly confused and still trying to process what was happening. Her amusement only seemed to grow, and you had no idea what the punchline was, but you could practically feel her guilt-free enjoyment at your expense.

What the fuck was it that everyone knew but you?

You sat there, staring down at your breakfast, suddenly too aware of the smiling faces around you, as if they were all in on some secret you hadn’t even realized you were keeping. Had the Queen found you out?

Oh no.

Did she somehow figure out that you… loved Caleb more than you should?

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, trying to make sense of the thousand thoughts racing through your head. The realization hit like a punch in the gut: What if she had figured it out? What if your mother, the Queen , had somehow seen through the mask of denial you’d carefully put up? That you— you —loved Caleb more than you should?

That was the thing about Caleb. He wasn’t just some prince anymore, some fantasy you’d imagined while lying in bed on those sleepless nights, swiping through fan art and funny edit compilations.

No. Caleb was real.

And he was more than you ever could’ve dreamed.

He was thoughtful, attentive, and incredibly intuitive, always knowing your favorite dishes and sensing what you needed even when you didn’t say a word. It felt like a connection that went beyond simple understanding—like he could almost read your mind. You two had a way of communicating that was deeper than anything you had ever experienced in your old life, more meaningful than any relationship you’d known.

You were in love with him.

But he was never meant for you. You had done everything you could to rewrite history, ensuring that Caleb would have a supportive sister by his side, someone who would be there for him as he ascended the throne. You had played your part in guiding him to that future, to his destiny. 

But his love story—it was always meant to be with someone else.

The best you could do was let it happen, so you swallowed your heart and smiled as you enjoyed the days by his side.

So why was your mother being so strange? 

In fact, it felt like almost everyone around you knew something about you and Caleb that you were not aware of. First Zayne back at the party, who spoke in puzzles more often than not, and now the Queen. Was something else expected of you last night?

But the days went by without clarification. If anything, whenever the King had time to join the family for a meal, you could almost feel the weight of his stare as it moved between you and Caleb. Not that Caleb was officially next-in-line, did they think you were going to exact some type of revenge?

What the fuck was going on…

And so more and more days went by without you the wiser. There was no use in asking anyone, since everyone decided that this particular topic was one to be annoyingly vague about.

And so you acted like nothing was out of the ordinary. As if the night after the coronation hadn’t happened. As if the memory didn’t exist -- Caleb’s warm breath against your neck and the skin of his carved abs against your back, rubbing his waist against yours as you read some smutty book aloud.

When Caleb finally woke up the next morning, he was just Caleb. No awkward glances, no sudden change in his demeanor. He still laughed at your bad jokes, still teased you about the tiny mistakes you made in your etiquette lesson, still spent hours with you doing everything and nothing at all. He was the same as always, completely unaffected.

So you did the same even as months flew by.

(That memory was for you only. Especially on the nights you could not take it anymore, letting a hand slip down your skirts as you thought of Caleb’s sweaty chest in your very bed.)

Today, Caleb had skipped out on his morning history lesson. Even with a mountain of new responsibilities, he was with you—lounging in the very same garden where you’d gotten lost together on his first day at the palace. The place was peaceful, tucked away from the hustle and bustle, and there was a kind of quiet beauty to it that made it feel like a secret spot just for you two.

You suggested lying on the grass, but Caleb quickly removed his outer jacket and spread it out neatly for you to sit on. With a grateful smile, you settled on top of it, feeling the warmth of the summer sun wash over you. Caleb stretched out beside you, his arm brushing against yours as he settled into the moment.

And of course, you were treated well to some of Caleb’s home cooked treats.

“I can hear you thinking,” he muttered, squinting up at the sky.

You cracked an eye open. “I’m not thinking. I’m meditating.”

He snorted. “You’re plotting.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

You rolled onto your side to face him, propping your head up with your hand. “Fine. Maybe I was considering how to fake my own death to get out of tomorrow’s tea party.”

Caleb turned his head, grinning. “That’s dark, even for you pip.”

“It’s self-preservation.” You said, sighing. “Lady Maribelle talks like she’s narrating a tragic play, and the last time she cornered me, she listed all twenty-seven names of her cats.”

He laughed, the sound low and easy. “Maybe she’s trying to set you up with one of them.”

“Honestly? Better than half the suitors I’ve met.”

Caleb’s smile faltered, just for a second, before he masked it with an exaggerated shudder. “If you marry a cat, I’m abdicating. I refuse to explain to the council why my sister’s consort is a tabby named Lord Whiskers.”

You bit into another macaroon, tangy but not a flavor you could identify. “Lord Whiskers does have a certain charm.”

“Pipsqueak, I swear.”

You laughed, flopping onto your back. “What about you? Any noble families trying to marry off their daughters to the crown prince lately?”

Caleb’s gaze shifted to the sky, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “Not even one bit.”

You turned your head toward him. “Really? Why?”

He tilted his head, eyes meeting yours, something unreadable flickering beneath the usual mischief. “Maybe they know I’m holding out for someone specific.”

Your heart skipped, but you quickly masked it with a joke. “If you say Lady Maribelle, I’m leaving.”

He burst out laughing, shaking his head. “You caught me. It’s her. The cats were the selling point.”

You chuckled, closing your eyes again. The warmth of the sun, the gentle rustle of leaves, and Caleb’s presence beside you made the world feel quieter, lighter.

“We’re both going to get scolded for skipping our duties.” You mumbled. “Of course, you more than me, since I’m the baby.”

“The baby, huh?” Caleb shifted closer, so your shoulders brushed. “And let them scold. I’m not trading this for a day of meetings.”

You nodded along as you took another macaroon, the pile dwindled to less than a handful.

“How are you such a good cook?” You exclaimed dramatically, taking a bite of a strawberry macaroon — your favorite — this time. “Seriously, where do you find the time?”

Caleb smirked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “What, afraid you’ll lose your personal chef one day, pipsqueak?” 

He popped a lemon one into his mouth, reaching for another, the napkin between you holding less than a handful of treats more. How long have you guys been out here, relaxing the day away?

“You need to show me how to make these!” You said, taking another bite, your voice light with excitement. It had been months since you’d jokingly asked for a lesson, but Caleb still hadn’t given you the tutorial he promised.

“What, you want a private lesson?” He grinned, his voice teasing, and you rolled your eyes at his playful tone.

“Ugh, your future wife is so lucky.” You joked, but the words hung in the air, and Caleb went strangely silent.

You blinked, wondering if you had said something wrong. Caleb was young, and there were plenty of young women who made their interest in him known. It was honestly still a surprise that, as a Prince, Caleb didn’t already have an arranged marriage lined up. You’d heard the rumors—other nobles pushing for a marriage and your father’s concerns about the political implications—but Caleb had argued against it all, no matter the pressure. 

It was a large point of contention on all sides prior to his official ceremony, but apparently Caleb had fought against it tooth-and-nail and whatever he said at the time placated them.

“So much talk about my future wife. Thinking about my wedding already?” Caleb’s voice broke the silence, his attempt to sound lighthearted faltering slightly. The strange edge in his tone didn’t escape you.

“Of course. You’re the most eligible bachelor in the entire country, who wouldn’t want to be with you?”

“...Who indeed?” Caleb replied softly, the words lingering between you.

You spotted the last macaroon and grinned, immediately reaching for it. “Oop, last one! Dibs!”

In a flash, Caleb swiped it out of your reach, holding it just above your head. You sighed dramatically, your hand still reaching for the sweet treat. Your attempts to stretch further were futile, your body awkwardly shifting as you leaned over him, knees on either side of his waist as you strained for the macaroon.

Just as you were almost there, Caleb leaned forward, his face dangerously close to yours as he guided the macaroon toward your lips. “Say ‘thank you for cooking, Caleb,’” he teased with a mischievous glint in his eye.

With a smile, you obliged, your lips brushing his fingers as you took a bite. “Thank you for cooking for me, my Prince.”

Caleb’s breath hitched as you smiled up at him, but it was the soft, almost desperate way his forehead rested against your shoulder that made you pause. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you into an embrace, his grip tightening just a little too firmly. “God, you’re going to kill me.” 

“Caleb, it’s just one macaroon!” You chuckled, still oblivious to the shift in his demeanor, the playful nature of the moment making it easy to overlook the emotions behind his actions.

Caleb held you there, his arms wrapped securely around your waist, the warmth of his body pressing against yours. You felt strangely at ease, straddling his waist as you nibbled on your macaron. The soft crunch of the pastry was comforting, but it was the gentle pull of his embrace that made you linger there. 

The feel of his body against yours, the steady pressure of his chest rising and falling with each breath, made everything else feel distant. You were perched on his lap, casually nibbling on your macaron, but the closeness, the way his hands lightly rested on you, was anything but casual.

You felt him stiffen, as if only realizing now your close proximity. You deliberately leaned against his touch and you noticed him pull you just a little bit closer, as if drawn by an invisible thread. You unintentionally rolled your hips against his waist, savoring the small moan that escaped his lips. It was the smallest of shifts, a gentle tightening of his grip, but it sent a pulse of awareness through you both. You swallowed, trying to steady your breathing as you stared into his eyes, searching for answers to a question neither of you were quite ready to ask.

Every small moment of affection felt like a spark to an already smoldering fire. Every smile, every light touch, every innocent glance between you two was a constant reminder of that night with the smutty book. 

You couldn’t forget how you had wanted Caleb to push just a little further, to finally bridge the gap between you. You had been so primed, hell even laying in the same bed together, that it felt like you were on the verge of something big, something you were almost sure would finally happen.

You'd imagined it a thousand times: Caleb, just like in your fantasies, slipping a hand under your skirts, his fingers brushing against the warmth of your skin, crossing that invisible line you’d been too scared to cross. Every time, you could almost feel the heat of his touch, the way he would finally shatter the tension that had been building between you for months, maybe even longer.

But every time, he stopped. Just when you thought it was finally going to happen, there was always something—something that ended the moment.

Speaking of, you turned your head slightly, spotting one of the knights approaching in the distance. His eyes flickered between you and Caleb’s close proximity, a subtle shift in his expression, but he said nothing, clearly well-trained to keep his thoughts to himself.

“Prince Caleb, your father has been looking for you.” The knight’s voice was calm, but it carried the weight of a message that couldn’t be ignored.

He sighed, dropping his head against your shoulder. “Of course he is.”

Without a word, Caleb slowly released you from his embrace, though his hand lingered for a moment at the small of your back, his touch a silent reminder of his warmth. As you both stood, the knight gave a respectful nod and departed, leaving the two of you in a quiet moment of your own. 

The feeling of Caleb’s touch lingered, like a faint echo against your skin, and neither of you mentioned it. It was almost as if acknowledging it would make it real in a way that neither of you were ready for. The weight of his presence, the way his hand had held you just a little too long, hung in the air between you both, but it was never spoken of.

You walked side by side, the soft crunch of gravel beneath your feet the only sound accompanying you. The silence was comfortable, yet charged, as though the world had momentarily paused around the two of you. It wasn’t awkward, just… different. A familiar cloak that wrapped around you both, keeping everything in its place without giving way to the questions that loomed just beneath the surface.

The rest of the day passed without incident, the usual routine of royal life settling back in despite the mischievous Crown Prince. It wasn’t until the next morning, as you entered the dining room for breakfast, that things felt a little off. Caleb and your mother were already sitting at the table, sipping their tea, the quiet of the room disrupted only by the sound of their soft conversation.

“Did I miss the memo or are you two just early for breakfast?” You asked, arching a brow as you noticed the unusually early gathering.

“Your brother and I simply had something to talk about.” Your mother replied, her tone calm but carrying a hint of something unspoken.

“Alright…” You trailed off, waiting for more details, but both of them remained silent about their prior conversation, as if it were nothing of importance. 

You couldn’t help but feel a little curious, but you chose not to press. You started your breakfast, trying to focus on the meal in front of you, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that your mother was watching you more closely than usual. If anything, it was fairly obvious she was shooting looks between you and Caleb, as if she was only just coming to terms with something. 

After a few moments, she set her tea down and turned her gaze toward you with a thoughtful expression. 

“Sweetheart, do you love Caleb?”

The question took you by surprise, but you didn’t hesitate. “Of course I do! I’d do anything for my Caleb.” You smiled brightly, hoping your reassurance would settle whatever unease your mother was feeling.

To your surprise, she sighed, looking at you with a mixture of concern and something else you couldn’t quite place. Caleb, meanwhile, smiled to himself before quickly looking away, his expression turning more pensive.

“Is something wrong?” You asked.

“Not at all.” Your mother replied, though her tone seemed heavier than usual. “If anything, your Caleb here has some work to do.”

She stood up from the table, excusing herself as she did, but you noticed she hadn’t eaten much of her breakfast. The weight of her departure lingered in the air, leaving you with an unsettled feeling. You turned to Caleb with a questioning glance, but he moved to sit beside you.

Caleb reached over and placed a reassuring hand over yours, giving it a soft rub before pulling away. His actions were calm, but his gaze was distant, as though his mind was elsewhere. “I had the cooks promise to make you strawberry crepes this morning,” he said with a wink, trying to lighten the mood.

“You’re the best.” You replied with a smile, your heart warmed by the gesture, though the tension from your mother’s words lingered in the back of your mind.

What the fuck was that about?

So many years had passed since you were that spoiled brat who once screamed when anyone else got the spotlight. Over time, you had worked hard to prove your loyalty to Caleb, showing through your actions that you supported his claim to the throne. You thought by now your parents were reassured, that they saw you as someone who would never jeopardize Caleb’s future. 

Maybe your recent behavior made them question that?

Lately, Caleb had been sneaking away from his lessons more often, running off to play hooky with you instead. You both found solace in those moments, laughing together and sharing little secrets away from the watchful eyes of the palace. But now, you began to wonder if your parents saw these moments as a form of sabotage. They might have taken his absences as a sign that you were encouraging him to avoid his responsibilities. 

You knew how much his training meant to his future, so if that was what they thought, you couldn’t let it continue.

Maybe you needed to put your foot down. Maybe you needed to deny his requests for once and insist that he focus on his lessons. You couldn’t afford to have him fall behind, not when his future as the crown prince was on the line. You cared too much for him to let that happen.

For the foreseeable future, maybe it was better to avoid Caleb or deny his requests to go out?

It would hurt, after all you had really grown to love and care about him, but he had bigger things on the horizon than he knew about.

In fact, it was soon to be his eighteenth birthday. All your hard work was finally coming to a head - the official start to the Webtoon was prime to start right before your eyes.

It was the turning point in Caleb’s life and soon, Tara, the main love interest of the story, would make her appearance. The quiet, humble noble from the far countryside would come into his life and change everything.

In the novel, Tara’s entrance marked the official start of the novel. She would be a figure of grace and modesty and it was inevitable that Caleb would be drawn to her. The description of their first encounter played out in your mind: a chance meeting in the middle of the dance floor at his birthday ball. Caleb, with all the charm and kindness he was known for, would offer her a dance. And in that moment, as they moved together for all the nobles to see, a connection would spark between them, one that would lead to a whirlwind romance.

They would dance and fall in love at first sight. Afterward, Caleb would lead Tara to his secret, hidden space in the garden where they would talk into the night, their hearts laid bare. It would be the beginning of their love story, a romance that would soon outshine the friendship you had with him.

You knew it was coming. 

You had always known it. 

So why did the thought sting?

This was Caleb. 

Your Caleb. 

The mischievous Prince who would rather leap out of a window than endure another hour of a noble droning on about something he had mastered years ago. The one who knew how to make people laugh with his wit but also had a way of making you feel seen in a room full of people, his attention entirely on you.

He wasn’t just the regal, distant prince you had read about in books or heard about from the nobles. He was a person with layers, a person who had moments of vulnerability and flaws you had learned to appreciate. You had seen him wrestle with his own duties, frustrations he never let show on the surface, and his kindness to those he cared for—especially you.

But he was Caleb, the crown prince with a future laid out before him, and that future, unfortunately, didn’t involve you the way your heart longed for. And that reality felt like a quiet, aching truth that you would have to accept.

You had been carefully avoiding him for the weeks leading up to his birthday, keeping busy with your own duties. You had to keep telling yourself that this was for the best—that you couldn’t be the one to hold him back from his fate. But then he appeared, radiant in his attire, like a bright star at the center of a night sky, and all of your resolve had faltered. 

The gown your mother arranged for you to wear was the exact color of his eyes—deep lilac, shimmering gold threads woven through it. It was a gown meant to honor him, but the irony didn’t escape you. You were wearing the colors of someone you loved more than you should, but who could never love you the same way.

The moment Caleb entered the ballroom, the room seemed to hush, his presence commanding attention. He moved down the stairs, like a king already in all but title. Your father flounced with pride, having trained the young man from a ragged orphan to a man who could command armies. The nobles flocked to Caleb, eager to congratulate him on another year closer to his rule. Caleb, always the gracious prince, nodded, smiled, and exchanged pleasantries with each one. But despite his composed exterior, you could see it in his eyes—he was searching. 

Looking for someone.

Your heart beat faster and you instinctively attempted to make yourself scarce, an alarm going off in your mind telling you to blend into the crowd. You couldn’t let him get too close. This was the moment you had been avoiding, the one where you would watch him become the male love interest he was meant to be. Tara would soon appear and you would have to step aside. It was the right thing to do.

But Caleb wasn’t letting you slip away so easily.

As the minutes passed, his gaze continued to flicker toward you, seemingly unable to settle on anyone else. His attention would return to you every few minutes, his eyes searching the crowd as you made your way about the room. And despite your best efforts to shrink into the background, to remain unseen, you felt the pull of his gaze like a magnet.

Finally, the moment came when you couldn’t pretend anymore. Caleb was only a few paces away and there was no mistaking the question in his gaze. He knew, without a doubt, that you had been trying to keep your distance these past few weeks. 

Every time Caleb asked you a question over breakfast, you simply nodded and shifted the topic, burying yourself in your food or pretending to be lost in your thoughts. When he’d invite you out—suggesting a trip to your favorite shop or offering to cook one of your favorite meals—you would smile, a pathetic, almost apologetic expression, and decline. 

His heart hurt with each passing day, though he never voiced it. How could you go from lounging on his balcony reading stories together to not even being able to make eye-contact with him? There was too much going on for him to corner you, too many expectations and responsibilities piling on top of him in the lead-up to his birthday.

But tonight was different. 

It was his nineteenth birthday and the moment he had been waiting for all night had finally arrived—he wasn’t going to let you slip through his fingers again. The music swirled around you both, the guests chatting and laughing, but Caleb’s attention was locked on you. He could feel the distance between you both, thick as a wall, but tonight, he had no intention of letting it stand.

The wall you’d put up was crumbling, piece by piece, under the weight of his concern.

You stood perfectly still, heart racing as Caleb began making his way through the crowd. People, recognizing the intent in his stride, cleared a path for him. He moved with purpose, determined, and you couldn’t escape the inevitable.

Of course, in that exact moment, Caleb collided with someone, their shoulders bumping in an awkward, world-stopping way that seemed to make everything else fade into the background. You felt your stomach twist as the woman — Tara herself — stood there, wide-eyed, her cheeks quickly flushing a deep red as her gaze locked with Caleb’s.

For what felt like an eternity, time seemed to stretch, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang deep in your chest. You quickly turned your gaze away, desperate to shake off the uncomfortable sensation, but this was a moment fate had dictated long ago. Tara’s blush deepened as she stared up at Caleb, and for a split second, you saw him hesitate, as though unsure of how to respond. 

You couldn’t handle this.

Your eyes searched the crowd for someone to distract yourself with, but everyone was almost excitedly looking at the Prince and his new acquaintance. Apologizing as you went, you navigated through the throng of people and only stopped at the hand on your arm.

“Stop overthinking.”

You stared back at Zayne, who held you just enough to stop you but not too much pressure. You tilted your head in question as he pointed with his chin back in the direction that you were trying to escape from.

Caleb. 

Caleb was walking straight toward you, smiling at nobles but very clearly going toward you. His eyes, usually so open and warm, were now tinged with something darker—frustration, maybe. His expression softened, but it was clear he wasn’t happy with you.

“Thank you, Zayne.” Caleb said, eyes never leaving yours.

The young Duke advised. “Perhaps you should take this somewhere more private.”

Caleb nodded in agreement, taking your hand this time and leading you to an empty balcony. Zayne closed the doors behind you both and you saw him stand there, almost standing guard. Caleb guided you by the chin to look at him. 

His voice was low, sharp, like a snake coiling before striking. “Why have you been avoiding me?” 

You swallowed hard, your heartbeat pounding in your ears, and feigned innocence. “What do you mean, dear brother?” You replied with as much sweetness and guileless charm as you could muster.

But you were a terrible liar.

Caleb’s gaze narrowed, a flicker of something—something you had seen frequently these past few months but could never really place—flashing in his eyes. It was a look you had seen on him recently but could never quite pinpoint. Before you could analyze it, he quickly masked it, hiding it behind a more familiar, teasing smirk.

“Think I don’t know when you’re hiding, pipsqueak?” he shot back, his voice tinged with weariness. “Come on, are you really going to ignore me on my birthday?” His words were gentle but cutting.

“Your Highness, don’t you have plenty of noble ladies who would like to share a moment with you tonight?” You couldn't resist, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Caleb’s eyes narrowed instantly at your use of his title. That only ever came out when you were angry at him. He hated the distance it created between you two—he was Caleb to you, not some nameless title.

“This is a personal request of mine.” He said firmly.

You shifted uncomfortably, trying another angle. “You know I can’t dance.”

He swatted away your excuse with ease. “Then you have me to guide you.”

You couldn’t help the small teasing smile that tugged at your lips. “Wow. How humble of you.”

“Come on already, pip.” Caleb’s voice was all the regal propriety of a Crown Prince, but you knew if it were just the two of you, he’d probably be rolling his eyes at how guarded he had to be. His fingers rested against your wrist as he gently held it.

“Caleb…” You said his name with a softer tone, hoping he might take you more seriously now. You motioned with your head toward the ballroom. “Don’t you want to dance with that really pretty noble you met earlier?”

“No.” Caleb’s response was immediate and decisive, leaving little room for doubt. “And you’re not terrible at dancing.”

“I’m terrible at everything, Caleb. Everyone knows that by now.” You joked.

But his expression instantly darkened. “Who told you that? Who’s saying those things about you?”

“No one, Caleb. I just know it.” You murmured, feeling a sudden weight of you as you spoke. “The only thing I’m good at is supporting you.”

Caleb’s frown deepened, but he quickly schooled his expression. The moment was fleeting, and he seemed to push aside whatever frustration had flickered in his eyes.

“And I appreciate all you do for me...” He said it softly, almost as though he was reassuring himself. “So support me the way I want you to. Don’t ignore me. And don’t listen to anyone else talk badly about you. You’re my pipsqueak.”

His words hung in the air between you and you felt the weight of them settle deep in your chest. The tension, the unspoken emotions, everything seemed to converge in that moment as you stood. You could only muster up one quick nod, before Caleb held your hand in his to guide you into a dance.

“Your first dance of the night out here?”

“I have everything I need right here.”

You swayed together, your hand in his, knowing that the distance you’d been trying to maintain was quickly becoming impossible to hold.

.

.

.

.

.

.

“Mother, did you know that Caleb met a beautiful noble girl from the countryside on his birthday?” You started after there was a lull at the dinner table.

It was just to test the waters. After all, you were trying to gauge just how far off-track this world was from the Webtoon’s original storyline. Sure, Caleb hadn’t danced with a beautiful stranger and fallen in love at the ball on his birthday, but the little details still mattered. And despite what your mind tried to tell you, the question lingered in your heart.

You knew it sounded a little ridiculous, a little cliché—the whole “keep the Webtoon on track” thing. How many times had you seen the pattern repeat itself in isekai stories? The Isekai’ed female lead desperately trying to prevent fate from playing out the way it was supposed to, only for it to do so anyway? Yet, here you were, watching history unfold with an eerie sense of déjà vu. It was like you were trapped in a loop of fate, and no matter how much you tried to change things, the world seemed determined to steer you back to the same ending.

The mine you’d bought and implemented safety regulations for? It still collapsed. The family you’d saved from a disastrous investment? They still went bankrupt a few years later. And even with all your careful maneuvering, your support for Caleb’s ascension to the throne had only made the Loyalist Nobles more determined to back your claim. The pieces of the puzzle were shifting, but the picture still seemed the same.

There was no guarantee that, even though things were different at the present, that it would not ultimately end up with the same destination. So, as ridiculous as it sounded at the moment, you couldn’t help but ask, it could change even in the near future. 

It would be undeniably cruel to get your hopes up now, only for Caleb’s heart to drift by the pull of the universe toward Tara. The last thing you wanted was to get your hopes up only to have the universe work its mysterious magic and pull Caleb’s heart toward someone else. You had to keep the original on your radar, that way you would be prepared for the end.

“Oh, which noble family is she from?” The Queen asked back, humoring you with a look of guarded suspicion.

The King had an equally unsure eyebrow raised. His attention, however, didn’t stray from the day’s reports, though the slight shift in his posture suggested he was listening. Caleb, on the other hand, was another story. The moment you spoke, his expression darkened—storm clouds gathering behind his eyes. A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth, and it felt like the temperature in the room dropped a few degrees.

“I didn’t get a chance to ask.” Caleb muttered, his voice tight, almost defensive.

You, however, weren’t going to let the conversation slide so easily. “Her name is Tara.” You interjected, “And her family estate is in the far countryside.”

The Queen had a brow raised. “And why the interest?”

“She’s beautiful, and from what I’ve gathered, she’s very kind. I think it would be fortuitous if she and Caleb got to know each other better.” Your eyes locked with Caleb’s across the table, your tone casual, as if you were simply discussing a potential match for a dance. “Perhaps you’d give her a chance?”

The look Caleb gave you could’ve cut through stone. His eyes were icy, his jaw set, and for a moment, you almost felt bad for pushing him. Almost. Was this what it had been like in the original story? Endless family dinners where he and the Villainess would engage in silent, simmering warfare—only now, it was you and Caleb locked in the middle of it? The tension in the air was thick, almost tangible, and you couldn’t help but wonder if anyone else at the table could feel it too.

“Even if I said no, I doubt you’d heed my words.” Caleb replied, arms crossed in obvious disappointment.

You quipped back. “Perfect, so we’re in agreement.”

“No, we’re not.” He spat out, annoyed.

“That’s too bad.” You shrugged without acknowledging his warning look.

Besides, no matter how much Caleb refused, you were already well on your way to making sure he and Tara spent time together. Arranging a classic, romantic meet-cute was out of the question; Caleb had immediately picked up on what you were trying to do. Ever since, he’d made sure to avoid Tara like she was the plague—always one step ahead, making sure he steered clear of her when he knew her presence was around.

But you were crafty in other ways.

Your secret weapon? A tea party. A series of tea parties, actually. There was no way he could escape them. No matter how many times he pretended not to notice, you knew he couldn’t avoid every single gathering of eligible young ladies from the nobility. You'd planned them almost back-to-back. And the best part? The Queen might have been suspicious, but she hadn’t outright stopped you. If anything, she seemed somewhat amused by your persistence. Every time you pitched the idea, she frowned disapprovingly, but she always helped you organize the next one. It was like playing a game, and she was a very willing accomplice, albeit with a knowing smile.

Caleb was none the wiser to your plan. He had no idea when Tara would appear at the next tea party, not when you were so clever with the timing. And with each passing gathering, he thought it would be another meaningless event—until you had the perfect moment to strike. Party after party, he had no idea you invited Tara alone hours before the major party. 

You knew Caleb’s routine like the back of your hand. He wasn’t just your brother—he was also a creature of habit. You knew exactly where he would be today, cutting through a particular garden path after his swordsmanship practice, heading back inside the Palace to change. It was the perfect opportunity to set the stage.

So, there you were, sitting with Tara by the fountain, listening to her chatter about her life in the countryside. She was sweet, her voice light and melodic, but you couldn’t help but be distracted by the bigger picture. Every now and then, your eyes flicked over her shoulder, toward the carefully planned blind spot you’d set up just beyond the hedges. You waited, your pulse quickening in anticipation.

And then, right on cue.

You stood the moment you saw him, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Oh Tara, have you met my brother before?”

Tara’s eyes widened slightly, her face blooming into a bashful flush. She quickly straightened and curtseyed with a nervous smile. “Your Highness. I made the unfortunate first impression of bumping into your Highness at his birthday…”

Caleb's lips twitched into the faintest smile, his usual mask of the courteous Crown Prince firmly in place, though you caught the briefest flicker of annoyance at the corners of his eyes. “It was an honest mistake.”

You seized the moment to steer the conversation exactly where you wanted it to go. “Aw, that’s too bad you didn’t get a chance to dance together.”

“What?” Caleb's response was almost too genuine, taken completely aback by the sudden shift in subject. His brows furrowed in confusion, clearly unprepared for whatever you had in mind.

“Caleb was able to dance with sooooo many noble daughters that night, but it’s a shame you two never really got a chance to acquaint yourselves.” You said, smiling wide, though the exaggerated cheeriness.

Tara, ever the polite and modest lady, offered a simple response. “I’m sure there will be plenty of other chances.”

“Oh, I know!” You said with an exaggerated flourish. “I just so happened to have all these teas and cakes with me for the tea party later today, but some of them were going to be thrown out for some minor imperfections. Why don’t the three of us go over to the gardens and eat them together?”

You watched Caleb’s expression carefully. There it was—a narrowing of his eyes, a slight suspicion flashing through them, but nothing more than that. He must have realized what you were up to, but as always, he held his tongue. He nodded curtly, clearly resigned to the inevitable.

With a smile as bright as ever, you looped your arm with Tara’s before she could say anything else. She seemed pleasantly surprised by your eagerness, though a little uncertain. You ushered them both toward the white gazebo you frequented in the gardens, the one you’d specifically chosen for this little set-up.

The walk was filled with polite, surface-level chatter, though you could feel the tension in the air thickening. But at least, for now, Caleb wasn’t pulling away. He might not have realized it yet, but he was already walking right into your plan.

To keep the conversation flowing, you pushed on. “Tara, why don’t you tell Caleb about that charity you run for the orphanage in your territory?”

She blushed as Caleb turned to her, “Of course, Princess.” 

You shot a glance at Caleb, catching the glint of curiosity in his eyes now as Tara began explaining her work. At least for now, he was listening. That’s all you needed—for him to start caring, to start seeing her beyond the surface. You just had to make sure the seeds were planted, and that was exactly what you were doing.

You sat there, trying to focus on Tara as she spoke about her charity, but your mind kept wandering. Your heart clenched uncomfortably as you imagined the reality of what you were orchestrating. This might actually work. It was ridiculous to feel this way after all the effort you'd put in the past few days, but it still stung to think about. Caleb—your Caleb—would eventually sit in this very gazebo, with Tara beside him, and there wouldn’t be a single thought of you in his mind.

The thought was a bitter pill to swallow, but you pushed it down. After all, this was what you had been working towards, wasn’t it? His happiness. Even if it wasn’t with you.

Then, just as the weight of the moment began to settle on your chest, you saw your maid waving at you from a distance. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

“Oh no! Looks like I forgot I made some arrangements at this exact time. Please excuse me, after all I’m hosting in a few hours!” You said, rising from your seat with as much grace as you could muster.

“I should take my leave as well.” Caleb said, his voice calm but his expression colder than usual.

You smiled sweetly, fighting to hide the glint of mischief in your eyes. “No, stay on my behalf. Of course, the Crown Prince would not leave behind a loyal supporter of the crown simply because of my mistake?” You couldn’t resist. The words were sharp, but playful, and you could practically feel the weight of Caleb’s silent reproach before it even hit.

The air between you two shifted—if it was possible to have a storm cloud hover over Caleb, you were sure it would strike you with a direct lightning bolt.

With that, you made your move. You turned on your heel and ran, as fast and as far as your legs would take you, feeling an odd sense of freedom in the rush. Sure, Caleb was likely furious with you now for pulling this stunt, but it didn’t matter. This was all for his happiness in the long run. This was what he deserved—a love that wasn’t wrapped up in tension, in family dynamics, in the weight of destiny. 

He deserved someone who could be everything you weren’t: a perfect match for him.

And as for you? Well, it had been years since you first transmigrated into this world, and while you’d never forget how genuinely in love Caleb had been with the female love interest in the original timeline, it was clear that your role was one of sacrifice.

Time to make yourself scarce.

It was the only way for Caleb to have the life he was meant to, and it was the only way for you to finally let go.

There were truly only two options at this point: the overused trope of running away from the Palace or finding someone else to marry.

The first option was tempting in its simplicity. You could just disappear, disappear into the night with nothing more than a suitcase of clothes and some of your rare jewels. But even as the thought crossed your mind, you quickly dismissed it. Running away meant leaving everything behind, and the truth was, you weren’t quite ready for that kind of freedom. 

Not until you ruled out the other possibility.

The second option? It was practical, if not a little cynical. Find someone else. Marry for duty, for peace, for whatever the heck it was people got married for in this world. Maybe that would be the best way to extricate yourself from the mess with Caleb. 

You knew Caleb was fully pissed at you since he hadn’t shown up to dinner that night. No note from his guard nor warning of where he was, silence as he completely avoided you for the first time in years. 

Your mind wandered back to all the times you'd danced with him in the empty ballroom, your bodies moving together with ease. The lazy days spent sprawled out in the gardens, the laughter that came so easily when it was just the two of you. You never thought that those moments would end. And yet, here you were, trying to come to terms with the reality that they might never happen again.

Perhaps your relationship was always meant to be like the original novel, filled with animosity no matter how hard you tried.

“Something wrong, sweetheart?” The Queen asked you directly, having seen the pining look in your eye as you stared at the seat across from you.

There was no way you could bring up any of this to your mother.

You re-directed the conversation to one of your earlier thoughts. “Why do I not yet have an engagement?”

She blinked twice before asking back, “What do you mean?”

“Almost all the other young nobles my age have a fiance.” You reasoned. “You would think that I, as a steward of the royal family, would also have a formal engagement for the good of our future alliances.”

The Queen’s expression shifted, her posture slumped just slightly and her eyes betrayed a tiredness you hadn’t seen in a while. The kind that came not from age but from the weight of a secret.

“What?”

“Do you really not know?” Your mother asked.

“Why does it feel like everyone is privy to something but me?”

She sighed deeply. “Have you considered that that’s the exact situation?”

“What? Does the King already have an unofficial engagement in mind for me?”

She kept staring at you as if you were truly stupid. “Who do you think it could be?”

You paused for a moment, chewing on the question, trying to make sense of her cryptic words. “Well, there’s been peace in the court for the first time in centuries, right? Most families have already made unofficial concessions to support Prince Caleb. So, I would think Father would allow me to marry someone closer to my age since a purely political marriage isn’t necessary anymore.”

“And that would be?”

You hesitated, trying to piece it together. “There’s a few options, but... if Father allowed me to choose, I think I’d pick Zayne, Duke Akso’s son. He’s smart, kind, and we’ve grown up together. Our personalities get along, and I think, if I had to marry him, I could grow to love him eventually.”

The corners of her lips twitched downward before she asked. “If given a choice you would pick Zayne?”

“He isn’t just smart or has a good title. Zayne is kind to me. I’ve known him for years. He would treat me kindly.” You explained, as if to convince yourself. “Not to mention he’s easy on the eyes. Especially when compared to the fifty-year old Marquis or the Count’s ten-year old son.”

“There’s no one else that comes to mind?”

You paused, hand on your chin, deep in thought. Something in her expression made you feel like there was something she wasn’t saying. Something she wanted to see if you’d say first. “Is there someone I should be considering?” you asked, trying to catch her unspoken hint.

And then, without warning, she laughed.

Laughed.

Not a soft chuckle, but a full-on laugh, one that surprised you so much it made you stiffen. The sound was oddly freeing in its sincerity, yet there was a sharpness to it that made your heart race. “What?” You blinked, unsure whether you were supposed to be offended or confused.

“Why don’t you discuss this with Caleb first before you make any rash decisions?”

Her words hung in the air like a bombshell you weren’t prepared for. Caleb? You were supposed to talk to Caleb about this? Of all people? You felt a knot form in your stomach, but you kept your expression neutral. There was no way she meant what she was implying, right?

But before you could ask her to clarify, the moment slipped away.

Caleb began to avoid you more than ever. He wasn’t just busy with his daily responsibilities—training, etiquette lessons, meetings, whatever—it felt almost like he was making a conscious effort to steer clear. You could almost feel him weaving through the palace corridors, turning corners just before you could catch sight of him. If you went to his usual places, he had already left. If you tried to corner him at meals or gatherings, he’d slip out early. 

It was becoming painfully obvious he was doing it on purpose.

Was it Tara? Had their meeting gone so well that he didn’t feel the need to entertain his childhood companion anymore? You weren’t sure, but the thought stung deeper than you wanted to admit. You had hoped that your antics—however well-meaning—would bring them closer, but you had never imagined it would be so immediate, so final.

The palace suddenly felt too big, too empty. You walked the halls with a strange ache in your chest, knowing full well he was avoiding you on purpose.

But what could you do? You had your own plans. You didn’t need Caleb to make your future happen. You could create your own path, even if it meant doing it without him. You could make your own arrangements, find your own happiness, away from the empty promises of someone who clearly no longer cared.

It was only a few days later that you made arrangements to meet with Duke Akso’s son. If your father wanted you to marry sometime down the line, you wanted to be relatively prepared. You waited in the gardens, a small tea party laid out for the two of you, complete with an absurdly delicate porcelain tea set.

“Zayne, thank you for agreeing to meet with me at the Palace.”

He inclined himself slightly before giving you a cordial smile. “Greetings, Princess. I would never turn down an opportunity to be in your company.”

“We both know that is a lie.” You joked. “I would never unnecessarily take you away from your people.”

“Nor would I expect you to.”

You couldn’t help but grin. Zayne’s words were always few, but they were sharp. Not a word wasted, yet it always felt like you were getting more than he meant to give.

“I read about the recent border skirmishes you and your father quelled. It's almost impressive—your diplomatic capabilities, especially with people we've been at war with for decades.”

He seemed unfazed, but the smallest flicker of pride crossed his features. “War and fighting is unnecessary. And once we agreed upon that, it was easy to negotiate.”

“And I’m sure having world-class healthcare is a hell of a bargaining chip as well.”

Zayne smiled at your uncouth language. “Yes, of course.”

“God, you’re impossible.” You grinned, taking a sip of your tea. “That’s amazing, really. But I’m sure you're wondering why I asked you here, not to just drone on about your unending accomplishments.”

Zayne regarded you evenly. “I’m sure you have your reasons, princess.”

“I have wondered for months why I do not have a formal engagement and then I realized: neither do you. I would not be surprised if our fathers have arranged some sort of backwater deal for our engagement.”

“You believe… We are to be married one day?”

You laughed lightly, almost nervously. “Well, considering we’re both high-ranking nobles and neither of us has anyone else lined up—uh, yeah. I’d be shocked if that’s not part of the plan. Everyone clams up and speaks in riddles when I ask and I think I’ve finally solved it.

Zayne tilted his head, a playful smirk on his face. “And you believe we should get married?”

You waved a hand, trying to sound more casual than you felt. “Honestly? I don’t know. But I figured I should at least entertain the possibility before the whole thing gets handed to me wrapped in a bow. Besides, I’m not about to marry some stranger who I can’t have a conversation with.”

Zayne didn’t respond right away, just sipping his tea as if it held the answers to all the world’s problems. After a long moment, he set his cup down, looking at you with a small, almost unreadable smile.

“You’d pick me, then?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Well, yeah. You’re easy to talk to. And unlike some other people, you don’t try to pretend like we’re all made of perfect little pieces that fit together.” You waved your hand in the air as if it explained everything. “And I’d rather marry someone who can stand being in the same room as me.”

Zayne shook his head in disbelief. “You are… something special.”

“Okay Zayne, spit it out. Every time I bring up the subject everyone gets all vague and annoying. What is it that I don’t know?”

“I truly thought this misunderstanding was cleared up at Prince Caleb’s birthday party?”

You leaned forward in your seat before asking. “What?”

Zayne stared at you for a few seconds. If he was anyone else you figured this would be a more impatient one, but it was clear he was trying to figure out whether you were being serious or just playing dumb for fun. “Princess, why would you think yourself tied to me? Let me in on your thought process.”

“Well, we’re around the same age. Of the remaining eligible bachelors of our country you have one of the highest standings to marry into the royal family. You have tons of accomplishments and we’ve been more than civil since we were kids. You’re probably one of the few real friends that I have.” You continued to list off reasons.

“Is that all it takes to marry someone?”

“Well no! I mean we’re not in love, but do many nobles get to afford that type of luxury?” You asked back in disbelief, surprised you were even having this conversation. “And you’re… easy on the eyes. Despite your candor I think we could get along.”

Zayne smirked, a mischievous glint lighting up his usually guarded eyes. If you didn’t know him better, you’d probably have melted right there at how sexy he looked. It was rare to see him let down his walls like this, and it only made him more frustrating to deal with. 

“Easy on the eyes?” he repeated, the words dripping with teasing sarcasm.

“What? Do you need me to spell it out?” You rolled your eyes, half annoyed, half entertained. “Cause I’m sure you taking off all five layers of your outfit at the last regatta gala was totally necessary and not at all self-serving.” You paused for dramatic effect. “You’re hot, Zayne.”

He grinned to himself, looking almost pleased with the compliment, but he didn’t show it too much. His usual cold demeanor remained intact, only warm at the edges. “Am I to think that the Princess admires me for my body?”

“Ugh! You are so frustrating sometimes.”

“Princess, I value my life. So no, I would not marry you even for all the nation’s jewels.”

You paused, fully taking in his words. “What?”

But Zayne, being elusive as ever, just throwing you a knowing smile. “Let’s enjoy our tea time together for now. I’m sure after this I will not be welcome here for a long, long time.”

“What do you mean?”

Zayne didn’t answer right away. Instead, he simply took another sip of his tea, his eyes betraying a hint of amusement. You shook your head, clearly not getting the response you expected. It wasn’t the first time Zayne had made a comment that left you puzzled, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. But in that moment, the thought of dealing with him and his cryptic ways was the last thing on your mind.

Your best chance at getting out of the palace didn’t want to marry you.

And that left you with only one real option: running away.

The thought of it felt almost absurd at first, but the more you let it settle in, the more it made sense. After tea with Zayne, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being stuck in a cage. The walls of the palace felt like fate closing in. Caleb? Caleb had fallen right back into the same pattern from the original novel, barely able to look at you without flinching with unrestrained anger. The space between you and him stretched further with each passing day, like an invisible chasm you couldn’t cross.

It was almost funny how much hope you’d held on to, the stupid little wish that maybe—just maybe—this time would be different. Maybe you wouldn’t be the villainess, the one destined to fail, forever stuck in the same predictable story-line. You’d spent so many years trying to repair things with Caleb, trying to rewrite the narrative, to break free of the role fate had thrust upon you. You could’ve sworn, after everything, that there was a chance for something else. But now? Now it was clear as day—Caleb hated you. He wanted nothing to do with you.

You hadn’t seen Caleb in weeks. You’d heard the whispers from the maids, the little tidbits of gossip that filtered through the halls like a quiet river of rumors. They said he was focused, serious, more committed than ever to his duties. They whispered about him being on the cusp of finally stepping into his role as King, the inevitable march of time pushing him toward that moment. And in the grand picture of things, they mentioned that a beautiful wife would eventually stand by his side.

A beautiful wife. 

Not you.

It was frustrating, maddening even, because if there was one thing you’d always despised in other isekai novels, it was when the villainess kept clinging to the original novel when it was obvious that the male love interest was enamored by them. You hated how so many of them allowed themselves to be swallowed up by the original plot, causing pointless misunderstandings and only delaying their happy ending. 

And yet, here you were, clinging to the same hope you hated. The same stupid belief that you could somehow change things.

You were suffocating in a life that wasn’t your own, and the only way out was to disappear. Running away wasn’t just an option anymore—it was the only option left.

And there was no way you were going to wait until Caleb snapped completely back to the original novel, slaying you with the same sword you had practiced with just months ago. You began your preparations, slowly, almost methodically, gathering everything you thought you might need. Nothing too flashy, nothing too obvious.

You started with gold pieces—just enough to keep you going for a while. It wasn’t much, but it would do. Then you packed durable clothing, the kind that would withstand the rough roads you’d have to travel. You didn’t bother with dresses, no—this time, you needed practicality. A heavy-duty cloth backpack became your new best friend, and you stuffed it with essentials: gardening seeds, a small knife, some rope, blankets, and a few more survival basics. It wasn’t glamorous, but it would keep you alive.

You kept everything hidden deep in the back of your closet, buried under a chest filled with childhood keepsakes—just in case someone decided to take a peek. You couldn’t risk being caught.

For the next few days, you laid low. Your schedule was practically empty. Lessons were still on the books, of course, but the usual round of banquets and teas? They didn’t ask for your presence. No one did. No one but the palace staff and the royal family even noticed your absence. You became almost invisible, slipping through the cracks in the routine of royal life like a ghost.

It was the perfect time to escape.

And that’s exactly what you planned to do.

The night was thick with silence, an oppressive quiet that seemed to swallow everything around you. The only sounds were the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze and the faint hum of activity throughout the Palace. You peered over the edge of your balcony, your heart thundering in your chest. The moon hung low in the sky, casting soft shadows over the palace grounds, and the guards—thankfully—had just turned the corner, giving you the small window of time you desperately needed.

This was it. The moment you’d been waiting for, preparing for, and the only chance you had for the next hour before the guards made their rounds again.

You took a deep breath, mentally bracing yourself as you tugged on the rope you’d securely fastened to the balcony. The knot held strong, no sign of loosening. You glanced down, seeing the long drop to the ground below, your stomach twisting. You had been through the motions of planning this escape in your head a hundred times, but now that it was actually happening, the reality hit harder than you expected.

With one final tug, you hoisted yourself over the edge, the cold stone of the palace walls rough under your palms. The air felt cooler as you let your legs dangle for a moment, gathering your balance. There was no graceful way to do this. You'd never scaled a wall in your life, and the movies always made it seem so effortless, like a smooth descent with barely a hint of struggle. 

You began your slow descent, gripping the rope tightly, focusing all your attention on not slipping. Your legs were trembling, a mixture of fear and exertion, and your arms burned with the effort. The walls were slick in some spots, the rope digging into your palms with every shift of weight. The higher floors felt like an eternity to climb down, and every creak of the rope made your heart skip a beat. You bit back curses, every muscle in your body tensing as you fought to keep your movements steady and controlled.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of careful maneuvering, your feet hit the solid ground below. The rough stone of the garden pathway greeted your feet with a satisfying thud. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, your chest tight with relief. Your legs felt like jelly, but you didn’t dare linger too long. The last thing you needed now was to get caught at the final step.

With trembling hands, you untied the makeshift harness around your waist. It had served its purpose—getting you down without ending up a tangled mess—but now it was time to move on. You quickly shoved it into your bag, the fabric feeling heavier now, full of your few meager supplies. 

You barely had time to process what was happening before you were jerked backward, stumbling on your feet as you heard a familiar voice say your name.

"Ca-Caleb!!"

His presence was overwhelming even as he loomed in the shadows. You could barely see him in the darkness, a mere silhouette against the dim light of the gardens. His voice came out in a low, almost dangerous growl. "Going somewhere, pipsqueak?"

There was no mistaking the intensity in his tone. He wasn’t just the Crown Prince in this moment—he was a force of nature, his posture rigid, every inch of him radiating fury. Caleb was still in his daily uniform, the dark black fabric contrasting sharply with the gold and red embroidery that marked his royal status. It was different from his usual attire. His strong arms were folded across his chest, a look of quiet menace on his face and it was clear he wasn’t going to let you get away with this.

You managed a nervous smile, hoping to defuse the situation with your usual charm, though your voice wavered slightly. "It’s a beautiful night for a stroll, isn’t it?"

Caleb’s eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a disdainful sneer. "Think I don’t know you by now?" he scoffed, his voice tinged with a mix of frustration and something darker. Before you could even react, he grabbed your wrist with surprising force, grabbing the heavy backpack in one hand easily before dragging you further into the gardens.

"You're not going anywhere without me," he added, his tone brokering no argument.

You stumbled as he yanked you along through the garden, the cool night air brushing past you as you tried to steady yourself. His grip was unyielding and you didn’t dare pull away. His movements were fast, purposeful, and every now and then, you could feel the raw tension rolling off him in waves. You had no idea what he was thinking, but you had several red flags going off in your mind screaming at you to run away.

You could only hope that he would spare your life.

Caleb finally came to a stop, dragging you a few hundred feet away from where he confronted you. The soft rustling of lilacs filled the air around you as the night’s cool breeze swirled between the flowers, but all of that faded into the background. You were far too aware of Caleb standing in front of you, his tall figure blocking out the peaceful garden scenery.

One by one, he emptied the contents of your backpack onto the grass. Each item tumbled out, falling into a disorganized heap at his feet. A bottle for water, a hastily folded blanket, some odd gardening seed packets you’d grabbed, and an endless pile of jewels you had planned to pawn off when you finally made your escape. 

And he was only at the top of the mountain of contents.

“I’m so sorry, Caleb.” You blurted out, your voice thin and shaky as you tried to apologize for everything.

He dropped the pack and raised a hand sharply, silencing you instantly. His gaze was hard, unyielding. You clamped your mouth shut, but that didn’t stop the anxiety from swirling in your stomach.

“You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for.” Caleb spit out at you. “Imagine how I felt when you continued to avoid me for weeks. Then you push some random noble girl onto me. And then I have to hear secondhand that you’d rather marry Zayne of all people?

“Caleb—!”

Without warning, Caleb leaned forward, closing the space between you. You instinctively leaned back, heart racing as you felt the heat of his proximity. His arm shot out and snaked around your waist, pulling you so close to him that your breath hitched. His chest was solid against yours, his presence all-consuming.

“I’d rather kill him than let you marry him.” Caleb growled, each syllable dripping with a dark possessiveness. The words were so raw and intense, they cut straight through you, leaving you frozen in place. A strange chill of fear crawled up your spine, not because of what he said, but because of how deeply he meant it. The weight of those words sank into your chest like a stone, twisting something deep inside you.

Caleb must have noticed the flicker of fear in your eyes, because his tone shifted ever so slightly. He gently guided your face back toward his with a hand on your chin, his grip soft but firm. His eyes were no longer filled with rage, but something far more complicated, something dangerous.

“You’re mine and only mine.” He whispered against your lips.

Any protest you had was swallowed up the moment Caleb’s lips crashed against yours, an unexpected storm that left you breathless. It wasn’t sweet—there was no tenderness to it—but it was powerful, consuming. His lips were a little dry, the pressure rough as he pressed into you, but it didn’t matter. The shock of it made you moan before you even realized it. That noise seemed to provoke him further.

His tongue swiped across your bottom lip, urging you open without hesitation. The moment your mouth parted, he took it as an invitation, plunging into the kiss with wild abandon. There was no gentleness, no hesitation—just raw, unrestrained urgency as he explored every corner of your mouth like it was the last thing he'd ever do.

When you finally broke the kiss to gasp for air, it only gave him more room to assault your neck. His lips moved down to your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he sucked deep hickeys into your neck, each one marking you with the same possessiveness that burned in his eyes. The bite of it sent a shiver through you, your pulse racing as heat pooled low in your stomach.

"Mine." Caleb muttered, voice low in a way that made your head spin.

“You…” You could barely keep up, your mind hazy as want and surprise crept up. “You want me?”

He pulled back slightly, his lips still brushing against your skin as he spoke, like every word was a declaration. 

"Want you?" He repeated back. "You’ve had me wrapped around your finger for years." 

“Since when?” Your words coming out almost breathless.

His his fingers dug into your skin possessively. "You want to know why I don’t have a formal engagement? Because I promised the King I would marry you."

You were stunned silent — never would you have made the assumption that Caleb would silently pledge his life to yours. 

He studied your wide-eyed expression for a moment before his lips curled into a dark, teasing smile. "Does that scare you?"

You shook your head, trying to snap yourself out of the daze he had put you in, but his body pressed so close to yours, his warmth seeping into every inch of your skin, making it hard to think straight. “Caleb, you deserve so much better than me.”

"Who’s saying you're not enough?" Caleb’s voice was soft, but there was an undeniable edge to it. He trailed his lips from your ear down to your jawline, his breath sending a wave of tingling sensation through down your back.

It was your turn to gently guide him, moving his chin to full face you. “No one, Caleb. I know I’m not good enough for you.”

“That’s not true at all.” Caleb countered. “Not even you could decide that for me.”

“But I can, Caleb!" You pulled back slightly, frustration creeping into your tone. "You need a kind, smart woman who can support you as King! Not some impatient, uncouth—"

Before you could finish, Caleb closed the distance between you again, his lips smothering yours with a force that stole the breath right out of you. You wanted to argue, to make him understand, but all that came out was a soft moan as he consumed you, his mouth taking away every word you tried to say.

When he finally pulled away, you were breathless, your mind reeling. Caleb looked down at you with a knowing expression, the slightest hint of frustration in his eyes. "You refuse to listen to what I need. So I won't listen to your excuses either."

“What?” You said back dumbly. 

"I need you in my life." He said, his voice calm but unwavering. He rested his forehead against your shoulder for a moment, his eyes closing as if he was grounding himself. Then, he pulled back just enough to look you in the eye, his breath mingling with yours, your hearts were beating in time. "I love when the maids have to wake you up seven times because you’re such a heavy sleeper. I love when you try to cook for me, even though it’s always a disaster. I love when you sit in my office just to keep me company while I work."

“Caleb…”

"Everything that makes you— you— I love." He nuzzled his nose gently against yours, a quiet smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “And I’ve been in love with you for years.”

To think that you spent all this time on edge, hoping against hope the one day that he might see you as more than just another character in this world. In your previous life, you had read and re-read over and over all the declarations of love he had for Tara, had burned them in your mind even as the real Caleb was before you.

"Caleb, I love you too." The words slipped out so easily and you felt a weight lift from your chest as they finally left your lips.

He smiled softly, the expression almost tender. "I know."

"You're such a jerk!" You couldn’t help but laugh, your frustration finally bubbling up in the form of playful teasing.

"I know you better than anyone. The way you look for me when you do something new. The way you smile only for me when we’re together." He chuckled, but his expression dropped to one more serious. "So why did you try to run away?"

You fell silent, not knowing what to say. The words you had once planned to leave with seemed so irrelevant now, swallowed by the intensity of the moment.

"Does it disgust you?" Caleb asked quietly, his gaze searching yours. "That I’m your older brother and I harbor these feelings for you?"

"No! No." You shook your head vehemently, your heart pounding in your chest. "You’re… you’re my brother in name only. We’re not blood related, that has never bothered me." You paused, the truth of your feelings sinking in deeper. "You’re more than a brother to me, Caleb. You always have been."

And truthfully, you hadn’t seen Caleb as a member of your family in a long time. The years had blurred that line until it no longer held meaning. But the same could be said about the King and Queen - they were not your parents either. They had never been, not in any real, deep-rooted way. You had grown to love them all, yes. But they were not your blood family. This was not your home.

This wasn’t your world.

But this was your Caleb.

“I’m afraid I’ll never be good enough for you, Caleb.” You confessed, the words catching in your throat like thorns. “I’m not a brilliant strategist or some breathtaking beauty, or… or anything extraordinary. I’m just me. And someday, you’ll realize that and meet someone who is all those things—someone who deserves you.”

For a moment, Caleb was quiet. Then his hands gently cradled your face, his thumbs brushing the corners of your eyes with aching care. His gaze searched yours, not with doubt, but with certainty like he was anchoring himself in you.

“No.” His voice was resolute, voice rich with his heart laid bare. “No, I won’t. Because I already found the person I want—and it’s you. You don’t have to be a genius or some perfect vision. You don’t have to be anything but yourself. That’s who I fell for. That’s who I need.”

He leaned in closer, forehead resting against yours, his breath warm and steady. “You are the one who makes me feel like home. The one who sees me; not the title, not the crown. Just me. And I see you too. All of you. Every little thing you think is ordinary… is everything to me.”

The walls you’d built around your heart began to tremble, then finally collapse as tears welled in your eyes. The way he said it — so effortlessly, so certain — made it feel like the most natural truth in the world.

As natural as roses blooming red.

As simple as the sky being blue.

As undeniable as Caleb loving you.

Your voice cracked, a soft tremor escaping you.
“I love you so much, Caleb.”

And in his eyes, you saw it — the kind of love that doesn’t just burn. It stays.

He leaned forward, and in an instant, you both were desperately reaching for each other, the space between you narrowing as your lips met in a fiery kiss. It wasn’t a crash of lips like earlier, but an urgent, synchronized pull—both of you hungry for the connection, the tension built over years finally exploding at this very moment.

Your hands tangled in his dark brown hair, pulling him ever impossibly closer, while his hands found their way to your waist, gripping you tightly as if he was afraid you might slip away. You could feel the heat of his body pressing against yours even through the numerous layers. It was just you and him, desperately trying to be closer, to make up for lost time, to finally feel the longing you both had buried so deep for so long.

The kiss only deepened and before either of you knew it, you were tumbling to the grass. The soft earth beneath you offered little resistance as you landed, his body coming down with you. You ended up straddling his waist, but neither of you paused. Caleb’s hands moved urgently, exploring the curve of your back, tugging you down to him, his lips never leaving yours.

You hadn’t even noticed when one of Caleb’s hands slipped away from your body, his touch now focused on the pile of your belongings he’d scattered across the grass. His fingers searched for something through the mess of limbs, finally finding the blanket you’d packed earlier. He tugged it free, his movements seamless, not once breaking himself from you as he pulled you into another passionate kiss.

Without a word, Caleb lifted you effortlessly, his strong arms lifting you just enough to lift you around his waist. He paused to pull back, spreading the blanket out beneath you both, the soft fabric covering the rough grass beneath before he gently pushed you on your back. You smiled up at him as he put a hand behind your neck, making sure you landed softly. 

Looming above you, the young Prince leaned down, his chiseled jawline and swollen lips from earlier mere inches from your face. The heat of his breath brushed against your skin, sending a pang of anticipation down your spine. His gaze, intense and filled with a primal hunger, was a darkness you had never seen before.

Caleb whispered against your skin. “Show me how much you love me.”

Oh god. 

His voice was so dark and low it almost made you moan all by itself, the words laced with a hunger that sent a thrill straight through you.

As the kiss deepened, Caleb’s hands were no longer just holding you; they were claiming you. His fingertips traced the swell of your breasts through the fabric of your cloak, the layers of clothing doing little to shield you from the intensity of his touch. Every inch of your body seemed to react to his proximity, his hunger, as if it knew exactly what was coming, what had been building between the two of you for so long.

You were still fully dressed, hidden under layers of fabric that had once been intended for your escape, but in that moment, it hardly mattered. Each brush of his fingers, every shift of his body over yours, set your skin on fire. The way he devoured your expression told you everything. He wanted you. He wanted you with a desperation that left you breathless. And in that moment, you realized just how much you wanted him, too.

He tugged at the laces of your cloak, loosening the garment until it fell away. He did the same with the layers underneath until your last corset fell to the ground, exposing your bare top to the cool night air and his heated gaze. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

His mouth trailed down the column of your throat, his lips and teeth leaving a moist path of skin beneath him.

“And all mine.” He continued as you moaned unintelligible words, eyes connecting and setting your skin ablaze. 

His teeth grazed your sensitive skin as he made his way to the swell of your breasts. The young prince paused for a moment, his breath hot against your nipple, before taking it into his mouth. His tongue swirled around the hardened peak, teasing and tormenting you with the promise of pleasure. Your back instinctively arched against him.

As he lavished attention on your breasts, Caleb's hands slid down your sides, his fingers splaying across your hips. He gripped your thighs, his touch searing your skin even through the fabric of your skirts. Slowly, teasingly, he pushed your layers up, exposing more and more of your legs to his hungry gaze.

Caleb settled himself between your thighs, his face now level with your most intimate area. He looked up at you, his purple eyes seemingly blown wide with desire and a wicked grin playing at the corners of his mouth. Without a word, he leaned in, his breath ghosting over your clothed sex. Your heart raced in anticipation, your body trembling with the need for his touch.

“Do you need me as much as I need you, baby?” He murmured against your skin.

Of course, this asshole would be just as teasing as he usually was.

“Fuck me already, Caleb.” You spat back impatiently.

You could almost feel the smirk on his face as he licked your panties. “I’ve waited years for you to see me, pip. Surely you can wait now.”

With a single, teasing motion, Caleb pushed your undergarments aside, fully exposing you to his view. He took a moment to admire the sight, your dripping wet pussy gushing just for him. He paused for a moment, savoring the intoxicating scent of your arousal, before placing a single, teasing kiss upon your sensitive folds. A surprised soft moan escaped your lips at the contact, your back arching off the blanket again as jolts of electricity coursed through your veins.

Emboldened by your reaction, Caleb delved in further, his tongue parting your slick folds and delving deep into your core.

“Don’t hold back, baby.” You felt the vibrations of the prince’s words. “I need to hear you.”

“Caleb…!”

He explored you with a fervor that left you breathless, his tongue swirling and stroking your most sensitive spots with unerring precision. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close as he feasted upon you.

Caleb moved a hand to your clit while the other sat firmly on your stomach. You felt him push down your tummy as one long finger squelched inside you. He devoured you like a man starved, his finger and tongue working in tandem to bring you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. Obscene slurping noises filled the air as he drank your juices, your arousal dripping down his chin as you fought against his hold to lift your waist to his face.

The sensation was so overwhelming you could barely come to terms with your senses. It was like hearing someone else’s voice, but it was only your unintelligible words as Caleb fingered you rougher and faster. Your toes curled as he shoved another finger to the knuckles.

Caleb's eyes, wild and fevered with lust, flicked up to meet yours. The purple irises had nearly disappeared, consumed by the black pupils that swirled with unbridled desire. His fingers, slick with your juices, pumped roughly into your clenching heat, his palm grinding against your clit with each forceful thrust. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the garden as Caleb feasted upon you like a man possessed.

"Please, Caleb!" You cried out, your voice breaking out a desperate moan. Your body writhed beneath him, your hips bucking wildly to meet his relentless onslaught. You could feel the coil of tension in your core pulling tighter and tighter, your release just out of reach.

Your inner walls clamped down around his fingers like a vice, rippling and squeezing him as your climax crashed over you. Wave after wave of pure, unadulterated bliss radiated out from your core, consuming your entire being. You thrashed and writhed beneath Caleb, but even then he seemed entranced with watching you lose control.

"Yes, fuck, yes!" You screamed, lost to the all-consuming pleasure that had shattered your world. “I need you, all of you.”

There was an uncomfortable tinge in your lower stomach as Caleb refused to letup, his fingers inside you even after you came. He ripped your skirts off with ease, throwing the fabrics over his shoulder and letting his eyes rake over every inch of your body.

"I need to see you, please Caleb."

He smiled to himself as you begged, sitting on his knees as he took off each layer. Your hands moved with an urgency, helping him with each agonizing layer - the gold medal he earned for the Eastern border skirmish, his pins signifying his status as royal family member - you threw it all to the ground without a second thought. Once he lay bare before you, you could hardly contain yourself from surging upward and kissing his collarbone.

"Like my body this much, Princess?"

But you could not even dignify him with a response, lowering yourself with each butterfly kiss down his body. His breath hitched as your lips ghosted over the skin of his abs. You wanted to show him how much you needed him, but Caleb sighed lowly before pushing you back to a sitting position.

His voice was breathless, want matching your own. "Next time, my love. I need more of you..."

You looked down and watched as he pumped his hard cock with one hand. You felt yourself drool for a second, his girth more than you think you could handle. 

“I'm afraid..." He started, cheeks flushed with the same lovestruck look on his face. "You won't want everything I want to do to you.”

“Yes, I do."

Caleb murmured. “The things I’ve imagined over the years…”

You put a hand over his, squeezing the hold on his cock. “You won’t scare me away. I love you, all of you.”

“All of me?”

You smiled at him then, truly. “Yes, I want to know every desire in your heart. I want you to let go. Do it to me.” You whispered against his ear, before adding. “I want you to ruin me, my King.”

Your words seemed to unleash something primal within him. With a feral growl, Caleb surged up your body, his hand wrapping around your throat. His fingers tightened, not enough to cut off your air, but enough to make your pulse pound wildly against his palm. He captured your mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue invading your mouth, claiming you, consuming you.

"You want to know my desires?" Caleb snarled against your lips, his voice a dark, dangerous rumble. "I must have imagined you a million times. Under my desk, on my balcony, hell right in the middle of the ballroom for everyone to watch.”

You melted into his kiss, a soft moan escaping before you could stop it. “You wanted to claim me?”

Caleb's responding moan only heightened your arousal. He had no reservations about how loud he was and you loved it. You wanted to hear him, to come undone purely because of you.

“So much more, baby. I wanted to tie you up and stuff my cock down your throat. I almost did, that night of the coronation. You, in your sheer nightgown, getting into bed with me almost naked. I thought you were teasing me.”

“What did you want to do to me then?”

“I wanted to rip it off you. I wanted to stuff it in your mouth and lay you on your back. Watch you struggle and cry to take my dick. I wanted to cum on every inch of you.” He had an almost manic look on his face — you loved it.

“Not inside me?”

He laughed then, “Everywhere, pip. Inside, on these gorgeous tits, on the swell of your amazing ass.”

“What’s stopping you now?”

“Fuck….” He whispered before lifting your leg to sit on his shoulder. “Fuck.”

He rubbed his throbbing cock against your clit and felt your pulse beat wildly in your throat under his hold.

“Please… inside, Caleb. Please please.”

“Keep begging me, pip.”

You weren’t below getting on your knees and licking his abs in reverence. “My King… please. I need your cock. I need you to cum inside me now.”

Caleb moaned in response, one hand holding your leg in place while the other grabbed your head to mold your lips to his. He sheathed himself in slowly, tears at the corners of your eyes as you felt his massive girth inside you. Your thighs trembled and you willed yourself to ignore that massive pressure.  

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He whispered against your skin. You could feel it, the veins of his enormous cock rubbing agonizingly slow against your walls.

He stopped moving for a moment and you gasped out a reply. “Please please please. Tell me you’ve bottomed out.”

Caleb leaned down to your earlobe, your leg stretching with the movement and making you gasp more.

“Pip, I’m not even halfway.”

You cried as he slowly continued to push in, his length impossibly longer and almost bordering painful. He had a self satisfied look on his face and if you were in your right mind you would have playfully slapped at his chest. Now, you could hardly bare a single thought.

“Ahhhhh…!”

“I’m sorry my love, just a little bit more.” He kissed your unsaid tears. “I love you so much, please relax for a little bit more.”

Caleb gripped your waist now, trying to steady you as he plugged himself deeper. When his hips finally met yours, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. He stayed there for a minute, letting you get used to the fucking emergency-room-worthy cock that was inside you.

“Let me know when I can move, my love.”

“I can’t take it.” You cried.

“Yes you can, baby. You’re so good for me.” He whispered, voice sweet as he peppered your hair with kisses. “I love you.”

You couldn’t help but be so acutely aware of his cock inside you. You couldn’t help but squeeze around him in just silent awareness, hearing his replying groan a second later.

“Fuck, don’t tease me.”

“Can’t handle it, my King?”

His eyes narrowed for a second, your teasing words enough to push him over that teetering edge, before he shoved back then forward, making you scream as the full length of his cock pistoned inside you. 

Caleb's massive cock stretched your delicate insides to their limits, the sheer girth making your mind go blissfully blank. Drool escaped the corner of your mouth as he pounded into you, his thick veiny shaft hitting depths you swore were in your stomach. Each brutal thrust drove the air from your lungs, leaving you panting and helpless, a puppet addicted to his rigid rod.

The obscene sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the air as he gained speed, punctuated by your muffled moans and Caleb's grunts of exertion. His muscular form loomed above you, a vision of raw power and primal lust. You wanted to grab his abs, to feel the sexy lines of his waist against yours. But you couldn’t move, hardly able to even lift your head.

As he watched you lose yourself to the overwhelming sensation of being fucked by his enormous cock, that possessive glint from earlier came back in full force. "Look at you, so stupid with need." He purred.

Caleb's grip tightened on your hips as he picked up the pace, his balls slapping against your ass with each savage thrust. The intense pressure built inside you, coiling tighter and tighter like a spring ready to snap. Your mind fogged further, thoughts fragmenting into nothingness as your entire being focused on the relentless pounding of his cock.

"Look at how well you take my cock." Caleb taunted, his breath hot against your ear. "You were made for this, weren't you? To be used and claimed by me."

His words only fueled your desperation, your body surrendering completely to the dominant force driving into you. You couldn't even form coherent pleas, just incoherent whimpers and cries as he ruthlessly plundered your depths.

“I should’ve fucked you that night. Should’ve made you act out that book and choke on my cock.” Caleb rambled on.

Caleb's hand shot out to grasp your clit, pinching and rolling the sensitive nub in time with his relentless thrusts. The added stimulation sent shockwaves of pleasure through your over-sensitized body, drawing another high-pitched wail from your lips. Not content to leave any part of you untouched, he leaned down to capture a pert nipple between his teeth, biting down just hard enough to make you arch off the blanket. His tongue swirled around the abused bud, soothing the sting even as he continued to tease and torment it with his teeth.

The dual assault on your most sensitive places pushed you as the coil in your tummy got tighter and tighter.

With one particularly brutal shove, Caleb buried himself to the hilt, grinding his rough pubes against your clit as your orgasm crashed over you. Your inner walls spasmed wildly around his throbbing cock, milking him for all he was worth. Pleasure overwhelmed your senses, reducing you to a quivering, senseless mess.

But Caleb wasn't finished with you yet. If anything, his speed increased, pistoning into your still-clenching cunt with renewed vigor. He reveled in the sight of you losing your mind on his dick, your once elegant features contorted in ecstasy.

"That's right, cum all over my cock," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "Use me, my desperate little Princess.”

Despite the intensity of your release, Caleb continued to fuck you with ruthless abandon, your pussy clenching in near pain from the unrelenting stimulation. He wanted you to feel this, to feel so overwhelmed from just him that you could barely move a muscle.

“Don’t avoid me or try to run away again. Don’t even look at Zayne. You're mine." Caleb punctuated his thrusts with commands. “If I have to lock you in this palace forever to make you see that, I will.”

“Yes yes yes…!”

Fuck, you couldn’t help it. 

You loved seeing this possessive side of him, see him lose control because of how much he wanted you alone. Your pussy clenched around him as he continued his possessive rant. 

“Is this what I have to do to keep you locked here with me?” Caleb was barely recognizable, face dark and taken over by lust. “Fuck a baby into you?”

Your heart raced at Caleb's dark declaration, a thrill of fear mingling with the illicit excitement coursing through your veins. The idea of being impregnated, of carrying his child. You locked your legs around his waist, locking him to you. Even if he wanted to pull out he wouldn’t be able to — you were just as twisted as he was.

Caleb's composure shattered, his usually controlled demeanor giving way to a primal, animalistic hunger. Gripping your waist with bruising force, he slammed into you with reckless abandon, the force of his thrusts nearly lifting you off the blanket.

Each plunge of his cock seemed to bury him deeper, as if he sought to claim every inch of your being. His hips hammered against yours, the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing through the quiet gardens. Sweat dripped down his face, mixing with the beads that dropped down his back and chest.

With a final, brutal shove, Caleb buried himself to the hilt, his thick shaft pressing against the entrance to your womb. A guttural roar tore from his throat as he came, his hot seed erupting deep inside you in powerful spurts. You felt him in every part of your womb, spilling out even onto the blanket below you. 

Exhausted but sated, you lay limp against the blanket, your chest heaving with labored breaths. Caleb's warm lips brushed against your neck, murmuring endearments and loving words that sent pleasant tingles through your spent body. 

Just as you started to get comfortable, Caleb's movements shifted, his weight settling atop you. A momentary flash of concern crossed your mind when he positioned you on your stomach, but it was quickly replaced by a jolt of surprise as you realized his cock remained stubbornly hard inside you.

Before you could process this development, Caleb pulled back and delivered a deep, punishing thrust, his thick cock spearing into your already-stuffed heat. A loud, wanton moan spilled from your lips as he bottomed out, your stretched walls struggling to accommodate his girth. Caleb lifted you at the waist, guiding you in a position that was head down ass up.

“I’m sorry, Princess. You’re so fucking gorgeous. I can’t...” Caleb murmured against the skin of your back, almost entranced and moving without realizing it.

“Okay. Okay…!” Your voice tilted off to a scream at the end, Caleb taking your assent instantly. He reared back and shoved himself, tip to hilt in one fluid movement.

Caleb grasped your wrists, pulling them behind your back as he positioned you on all fours. The new angle allowed him to penetrate you even deeper, his cockhead kissing your cervix with each powerful thrust. He was manhandling you like is life depended on it and it was so fucking hot. He needed you to the point that he could barely think, just an animal with one thought in mind: breed.

"Look at this perfect ass bouncing on my cock.” He growled, lifting one hand for a second to slap the mound. You moaned at the action, but it was nothing as the force of his strokes made your breasts sway beneath you.

Your cries of pleasure filled the air, punctuated by the lewd sounds of skin meeting skin. Caleb's balls slapped against your clit with every retreat, adding an extra layer of sensation to the intense fucking. You felt like a ragdoll in his hands, completely at his mercy as he used your body for his pleasure.

Caleb's pace turned brutal, his hips snapping forward with reckless abandon. Each thrust drove him impossibly deeper, made worse as he moved one hand to your tummy and felt his cock spearing inside you. The pressure built, threatening to push you over the edge into another mind-shattering orgasm.

"You're mine forever.” He snarled, his fingers digging into your skin as he held you in place. "My perfect princess, built for my cock."

His words, laced with dominance and possession, only served to heighten your arousal. You felt owned, claimed, and it sent a dark thrill through your core. Caleb's cock pulsed inside you, signaling his impending release, but he showed no signs of slowing down, determined to prolong both your pleasure and his own.

Caleb's relentless pounding sent shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body, each thrust pushing you closer to the brink of oblivion. The slick sounds of your combined fluids filled the air, a symphony of debauchery that only fueled his desire.

Suddenly, he reached around to pinch and twist your nipples, the sharp pain sending a jolt straight to your core. Your back arched, pressing your ass further into his groin as he fucked into you with renewed ferocity.

"Cum for me, pip.” Caleb commanded, his voice low and husky with need. "I want to feel you squeeze my cock again.”

But he might as well have said nothing, since you could hardly even hear him over the roar in your ears. You doubted you could even recall your name at the moment. 

With a keening cry, you surrendered to the overwhelming sensations, your orgasm crashing over you in waves of pure bliss. 

“Fuck, I’ll never get over this feeling. I need to feel you around me forever, pip.” He said as his eyes rolled back, not letting up his thrust for a second. “I love you with all my heart."

“I love you, Caleb!”

"So good...you feel incredible," he panted, his eyes locked on yours, adoration peeking through all the lust.

With a final, guttural moan, Caleb surged upward, his cock twitching inside you as he spilled his seed deep within your welcoming heat. You felt each pulse, each hot spurt claiming you as his once more. You could only imagine how lewd your pussy looked - your shared essence spilling around his cock and dripping onto the blanket beneath.

As the last tremors faded, Caleb gently eased you down, flipping your positions to lay you onto his chest, cradling you close as you both collapsed onto the blanket. Caleb's strong arms wrapped around you, holding you securely against his warmth. He peppered your face with soft, loving kisses, each one a tender promise of his genuine, unbridled love.

"My beautiful Princess.” He whispered, his voice husky with emotion. "You've stolen my heart, body and soul. I never want to let you go."

His lips found yours in a sweet, lingering kiss, conveying all the love and devotion he felt for you. As you melted into the embrace, you knew in that moment that nothing could ever come between you two. You were forever bond, two souls intertwined.

“No more misunderstandings.” He whispered against your ear as he trailed a hand over your bare arm. “You’re my future. My dream. My everything.”

“I never thought you’d ever want me.”

He kissed the side of your face. “I need you. That’ll never change.”

“I love you so much. I want this future with you.”

“My sweet Princess.” Caleb nuzzled your nose with his own. “I love you with my entire heart. I’ll never let you go.”

.

.

.

.

.

.

Bonus:

You stood before the King with Caleb at your side, the throne room empty as you two held hands. It was late, having closed to the general public just a few minutes prior. This was an unscheduled audience to the King, born from a sudden urgency.

The both of you inclined into a slight bow before Caleb started, in his formal Crown Prince voice, addressing the King. 

“Your Majesty, we confessed our love to one another last night. Please bless our marriage as we would like to join together as soon as respectfully possible.”

The King lifted a brow, eyes going from one to the other. 

Of course, he heard about your… spirited activities long before you entered the throne room. 

The staff of the Palace knew everything about your relationship — perhaps before even either of you realized your feelings for one another. When you were young and Caleb had his rough nights, screaming for his faceless parents, you would climb into his bed and rock him to sleep. And likewise, when you would get in your head with unsaid worries, Caleb would wrap his arms around you and read you to sleep.

It was never the King’s goal to have you two fall in love. 

Truly, he adopted Caleb as an impulsive decision. His only blood was someone he never wanted to pass the crown to and it was not like he could commandeer another noble’s child. Caleb was a genius from a young age, having met the King by chance. 

Caleb was the Crown Prince simply because he was at the right place at the right time.

To think that Caleb would fall in love with that same child the King held in contempt. And not only that, but improved his only blood from an absolute menace into a real human being. He watched over the years as Caleb’s eyes never strayed from his daughter - laughing, smiling, and falling in love with the one person who could validate his claim to the throne through marriage. A blood member of the royal family, it could not get any better.

It was all very convenient.

Except for one thing, apparently.

“Your… marriage. Rather than an engagement?” The King asked back, looking suddenly tired.

Caleb smiled to himself. “I’m sorry, your Highness. But I cannot wait any longer.”

You elbowed the Prince lightly in the stomach and the King stared at you both deadpanned.

Again, he had heard about your activities from multiple different knights the night prior. Apparently you had attempted to run away, your maid instantly warning Prince Caleb about this sudden development. Originally, the King thought you would tearfully and angrily reconcile before beginning your courtship. 

It was to his surprise when the same knights returned with a rosy blush, reporting on your enthusiastic joining in the gardens. It was almost impressive how long you two had gone at it — the sunrise of the next day apparently had not stopped you, nor the cold outside air.

A number of unfortunate maids had stumbled through the gardens, only to be met with you underneath Caleb moaning in all sorts of positions. 

Gossip ran like wildfire. The King refused to hear the details, but almost every maid had spoken about the salacious tales of you and Caleb moaning against one another. There were all sorts of positions they had seen: leg held up on Caleb’s shoulder as he shoved you against the gazebo pillars, in the hallway as you struggled to quell your lust just to head back to your rooms, or even the two of you on your balcony — you on your knees as Caleb slapped his cock against your face. 

The list was unending in just a single night.

Disgusting. 

The King really really didn’t need to know. 

Everything was dramatic with you two.

The King only had one question. “My child, are you pregnant?”

A blush grew in your face and Caleb sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. Good god, you hadn’t even drank the contraceptive tea, after the King had taken the initiative to stock up after that first night at Caleb’s coronation.

You expected the worst from your father. A lecture about propriety, especially as two of the highest ranking nobles setting an example for others your age. Or worse, his disapproval due to your odd relationship as adopted brother and sister.

“We’ll plan the wedding for the upcoming fall.” He said without hesitation. “Tell your mother she owes me 100 gold pieces.”

“What?!” You shrieked, disbelieving this was your cold and detached father. 

“You bet on us?” Caleb asked also.

“Multiple bets. I lost some good money over the years.”

You near screamed. “You knew?!”

“When did you… what?!” Caleb was just as confused.

The King leveled a look at you. “The guards know everything.”

Too much of everything, actually.