I seethed, my little hands balling into fists. This time, I was going to kill him.
I lunged at him, but in my blind rage, I tripped over a loose stone and crashed to the ground—right onto my already injured knee. A sharp, searing pain shot through me, and before I could stop myself, tears welled up in my eyes.
Michael had started laughing, but the moment he saw me clutching my knee, his smile vanished. His face twisted with panic as he rushed to my side.
"Majesty! Are you okay?" He knelt beside me, his hands hovering uncertainly, as if afraid to touch me.
I bit my lip, trying to stop the tears, but the pain was unbearable. "It hurts…" I mumbled, my voice trembling.
"You idiot," Javier said, smacking Michael on the head. "I've told you to stop doing that, but you never listen. Now look what you've done!"
Michael looked genuinely guilty, his usual smugness was nowhere to be found. He glanced at me, then at Javier, then back at me, shifting awkwardly. After I finally stopped crying, Javier sighed and suggested taking me to my parents since I couldn't walk properly.
"Where's your father?" he asked.
"I don't have one," I replied. He looked surprised, but I didn't explain further.
"What about your mother?"
I hesitated. "If my mother finds out I hurt myself, I'll be in trouble," I muttered. "Please, just take me to my room."
"Who's your mother?"
"The queen," I said simply. "Lady Nyxelene."
The moment the words left my mouth, the air shifted. Everyone who had overheard froze, recalling how a man was killed simply for speaking out of turn. Even the wind seemed to hush.
Michael stiffened, his face going pale. He had hurt the princess. Decapitation wouldn't be enough—he'd be lucky if his soul wasn't ripped from his body and thrown into the abyss. The Namesh children were even more terrified since they hurt me first.
"Michael," Javier said, clearing his throat. "You hurt her, so take responsibility and carry her to her room."
"You traitor!" Michael shot back, glaring at him. "You're just scared of the queen, admit it!"
"There is no reason for me to die because of your stupidity," Javier retorted without hesitation.
They started bickering, their voices rising as they tried to shift the blame onto each other.
I couldn't help it—I burst out laughing. The sight of them, two boys terrified out of their minds, was too funny. Especially Michael, who now looked like a man marching toward his execution.
"It's fine," I reassured them between giggles. "My mother is in a meeting with the other kingdom, so if you take me to my room now, she won't even notice."
Michael perked up like a man who had just been pardoned from death row. Relief washed over his face, and before I could change my mind, he knelt down in front of me.
"Get on," he said, his voice unusually gentle.
I smirked. Oh, this is my chance.
I climbed onto his back, but instead of directing him straight to my room, I made him wander the castle, leading him in circles through endless hallways. Every time he thought we were close, I'd tell him he had taken a wrong turn.
Michael was panting by the time we finally reached my door. He dropped to his knees, groaning.
"You're evil," he wheezed, barely catching his breath.
I grinned. "That's what you get for the cockroaches."
After Michael carried me to my room, he did his best to treat my wound. His bandaging skills were questionable, but at least he tried.
"Your room is huge, and your bed—wow! You really are a princess." He grinned as he admired the space. "Hey, can I come play in your room sometimes?"
I hesitated. "My mother doesn't let me go outside, and she doesn't allow anyone in my room except the maids."
Michael frowned. "Why not? I bet if you ask her really nicely, she'll say yes."
Being just a child, I couldn't understand why my mother kept me so sheltered. I lowered my head. "I don't know…"
His face lit up with an idea. "Oh! Maybe I'll ask her myself. My father is really close to the queen—maybe he can help!"
That caught my attention. "Who's your father?" I asked, curious.
"Lord Ramius."
My eyes widened. "Oh! Do you think he can convince my mother to actually let me play with you sometimes?"
Michael smirked. "Of course! I mean, why wouldn't she? I'm amazing."
Later that night, after spending some time playing with me, Michael finally went home. Before leaving, he grinned and said, "I'll be back tomorrow evening, I promise." Then, with a playful wave, he opened the door and left.
"What's this? You want to play with the Princess? And in her room?"
Michael said to his father as soon as he went home. He also told him how he met the princess
"Yes!" Michael answered, puffing out his chest. "She's my friend."
Ramius arched a brow. "Oh? You mean the same friend you terrified with a cockroach?"
Michael immediately looked away, feigning innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about."
His father sighed. "Really? Because just the other day, a furious mother stormed into our mansion, claiming some troublemaker put cockroaches in her son's collar. You should really stop giving people cockroaches before asking them to be your friend, that's no way for a son of mine to behave."
"It wasn't me though." Michael said, looking away.
Ramius smirked. "Then you won't mind me mentioning it to your mother."
Michael's bravado crumbled in an instant. "No! Anything but that!" He dropped to his knees, clutching his hands together in a desperate plea.
Ramius chuckled. "Relax, I won't tell. You know I'm on your side." He extended a hand to help his son up.
Michael, relieved, took it—only for his father to place something in his palm. A heartbeat later, Michael's face twisted in horror.
"A SPIDER?!"
He screamed, throwing the eight-legged creature across the room and stumbling backward.
Ramius, meanwhile, was on the floor, laughing so hard he could barely breathe.
It seemed Michael wasn't scared of cockroaches, but spiders? That was a different story.
After laughing for a while, Ramius's expression shifted, the amusement fading from his face. His moonlit ash eyes settled on Michael with a rare seriousness.
"The queen does not allow anyone to have contact with the princess," he said, his voice firm. "Going into her room is the same as going against the queen."
Michael swallowed hard. The way he said it sent a chill down his spine.
But then, just as quickly, his somber tone lifted, replaced with something more nostalgic. He leaned back slightly, a smirk playing on his lips.
"That reminds me of your mother," he mused. "She loved me, but because of her background, it was... complicated. I had to sneak around just to see her, climbing through her window in the dead of night." He sighed dramatically. "I was always careful. Never got caught."
Michael perked up. "Really? Not even once?"
"Not once," Ramius confirmed, looking pleased with himself. "I was like a shadow. A very handsome, very skilled shadow."
Michael scoffed. "Sure you were."
Ramius ignored him, his smirk widening. "Listen, my son. Don't let anything stand between you and the woman you love—not distance, not circumstance, not even the heavens." He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a great secret. "But if you get caught by the queen..." He clapped Michael's shoulder and whispered dramatically, "Remember—I don't know you."
And with that, he walked away, whistling to himself as if he hadn't just encouraged his son to commit treason.
Later that night I was curled up in bed, half-asleep, when I heard a noise—soft tapping against my window. My brows furrowed. Had I imagined it?
Then it came again.
Sitting up, I turned toward the window, and my heart nearly stopped.
Michael's face was pressed against the glass, his brown hair wild from the wind, his grin wide with mischief.
"What—" I started, but he frantically waved his hands.
"Shh! If we stay quiet, no one will notice!"
We? We?!
Before I could stop him, he climbed through the window, landing with an ungraceful thud on my floor.
I gawked at him. "Are you insane?"
"Probably," he said, brushing himself off. "But my dad did say sneaking into a girl's room was romantic, so here I am."
I buried my face in my hands. "Your father is a terrible influence."
"Agreed." Michael plopped down onto the rug, grinning. "But he's not wrong."
I sighed, shaking my head. "You do realize if my mother finds out, you won't just die—you'll disappear. No one will ever find your body."
Michael only shrugged. "Then we just won't get caught."
I glared at him. "You're reckless."
"And you need more fun in your life."
I crossed my arms. "And you need common sense."
"Probably," he said again, completely unbothered.
I wanted to stay mad, I really did. But when I looked at him, sitting there like he hadn't just risked his life to keep a silly promise, I couldn't help but feel... warm.
I sighed, defeated. "Fine. Since you're already here, you might as well stay for a bit."
Michael grinned. "Told you I'd come back."