“Spare me the formality. I want your truth. You’re a historian; you should understand the value of stories and what makes them compelling.” The prince's voice was soft, almost coaxing, yet there was a sharp edge to it—a dangerous undercurrent that made Tuk’s skin prickle with unease.
Tuk drew in a deep breath, forcing herself to meet his piercing gaze. “There’s someone I care about, yes. But love is more than just feelings; it’s about shared experiences, trust, and support. It’s not something you wield like a weapon.”
“Fascinating,” he said, leaning in slightly, his interest unmistakable. He’s toying with me. “So, tell me about this person. What makes them so special?”
The air in the room felt heavier, and Tuk’s mind raced as she considered her options. Should I reveal more? Or keep my guard up? It's about my sister anyway.
“I suppose... they’ve always supported me. They understand my passions, encourage me to pursue them,” she began cautiously. “But love isn’t just admiration. It’s accepting someone’s flaws, standing together through challenges.”
The prince’s expression shifted, his amusement giving way to genuine curiosity. “And do you believe you could trust them completely?”
“Yes.” The answer escaped before she could stop herself, the honesty slipping through her defenses. “But trust takes time to build.”
He chuckled softly, leaning closer, his voice a mix of amusement and menace. “Time. The one thing I don’t have much of. Very well, historian. Let’s see how quickly you can help me build trust in my court. I expect results sooner rather than later.”
Tuk felt a mix of relief and dread. This is only the beginning, she thought. But I can’t let him use me as a pawn.
“Of course, Your Highness. I’ll do my best,” she replied, determination solidifying inside her.
“Good. Now, let’s get to work. Tell me what I need to do.” His eyes gleamed, sharp and calculating—like a predator cornering its prey.
Tuk steadied herself, heart pounding. He isn’t playing games. She could feel it now—each moment they spent together, he was tightening his grip on her, and she was running out of room to maneuver.
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet his gaze. If she wasn’t careful, this man would unearth every secret she was desperately trying to keep buried.
"If I may, Your Highness... isn’t what we’re doing illegal? I've heard that studying love is banned throughout the empire." Tuk met his gaze, her pulse racing.
Michaelli’s eyes flickered with amusement. "Ah, yes—the law established by my predecessor, banning the study and expression of love. It’s true that in the past, such knowledge was deemed dangerous, disruptive to the empire’s order. But let me make one thing clear, advisor: the laws of this empire bend to my will, not the other way around.
If I, the ruler of Marceau, have chosen to study love for my own purposes, then it is no longer illegal. My word is law. And while the previous king may have feared the chaos that love could bring, I see its potential as a tool—one that, under my control, can be mastered and wielded for the empire’s benefit."
His voice dropped, cold and deliberate. "So, advisor, rest assured: what we are doing is not only permitted but necessary. If anyone questions it, they will find themselves on the wrong side of my authority. I trust that you understand the gravity of what we are undertaking, but also the protection that comes with my favor.
Now, shall we continue? Or are there more concerns weighing on your mind?"
I couldn’t argue with that. Tuk’s thoughts spun.
This is the ruler Marco warned me about. I need to rethink my approach and understand his motivations. If this were a project of mine, the prince would be my client, and his persona doesn’t match the data I’ve gathered from the warriors. He’s not just brute force. This is the prince that Marco mentioned—a true ruler. I have to adjust my strategy and build a better connection. First, I need to assess what he knows and what he doesn’t. Only then can I pinpoint the disconnect and find a solution to my own predicament.
"You seem far more knowledgeable about love than I expected, Your Highness." Tuk’s voice remained calm, but inside, her pulse quickened. She could feel the danger closing in like a noose tightening around her neck. One wrong word, one slip, and he would see through her act. She forced a small smile, hiding the growing unease gnawing at her stomach. "I apologize for the rude comment I made during our meeting back in Homonhon."
Michaelli's gaze lingered on her a moment longer, his expression unreadable. He tilted his head slightly, the faintest smirk playing at the corners of his mouth—a predator watching his prey falter. Tuk felt the chill of his attention, every nerve in her body on high alert. She had to be careful now. If he realized what she was hiding, there would be no escape. The room suddenly felt smaller, the air thicker, as if the walls themselves were closing in.
"Ah, so you've finally realized." Prince Michaelli leans back slightly, a faint smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. His golden eyes fixed on Tuk, sharp and calculating, weighing her every word. "Apologies are easy to offer, but understanding takes more time. You thought me ignorant, didn't you?"
He rises slowly, each movement deliberate, and steps closer. His gaze never wavers as he tilts his head, examining her like a puzzle he's almost finished solving.
"Love is no different from war, Tuk. Strategy, deception, vulnerability—all tools at my disposal. It's amusing that you assumed I'd be blind to its uses just because it was forbidden." His smirk widens as he stops just in front of her, his voice softening but losing none of its edge. "So tell me, what else did you miscalculate?"
She flinched inwardly. Stay calm. He’s just testing you. Don’t make the same mistake again.
"To be honest, Your Highness, when you asked, 'What is love?' and I saw how the other historians reacted when I mentioned it back in Homonhon, I thought that the people of the Marceau Empire didn’t know about love—since it was banned so long ago. If I may ask without being rude, did Your Highness begin studying it after learning about the heart from the Prince of Homonhon?"
Prince Michaelli's eyes narrow slightly, his smirk fading into something more contemplative. He doesn't answer immediately, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make me feel its weight.
"You’re not entirely wrong," he says, his voice smooth but carrying an edge of amusement. "The people of Marceau were deprived of love for generations. It was purged from our language, our history, our very way of life. But," he steps closer to Tuk his gaze grows sharper, "you underestimate me if you think I would rely solely on the ramblings of a foreign prince to grasp its meaning."
His fingers lightly tap his chin as he continues, "What the Prince of Homonhon said about the heart… it sparked my curiosity. But curiosity alone doesn’t lead to understanding. I’ve studied it—more than anyone here would dare to admit. And I’ve seen how love can be manipulated, how it can be used as a weapon or a shield." His eyes flicker with intensity, as if seeing far beyond the present.
"Tell me, Tuk—did you think you could teach me something I haven’t already considered?" His voice lowers, a challenge in his tone. "Did you hope to control me with a concept I’ve come to understand better than those who claim to cherish it?"
Tuk stood frozen, her pulse echoing in her ears. Only one word came to mind: Shit.
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