Alaric stepped out of the fitting room, his heart still pounding in his chest. The heavy door clicked shut behind him, but he stood still in the hallway for a moment, trying to steady himself. He could still feel the warmth of her presence, the way her eyes had narrowed in irritation and her cheeks flushed with frustration. She was so... different from the other women he’d known. So strong, so vibrant, so... real.

He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to shake off the feeling. What was it about Erika that made his heart race like that? He’d never had such an effect on him before. Sure, he’d teased her—he’d meant to annoy her, maybe even provoke a reaction, but when he’d seen her flush, when he’d caught that hint of vulnerability in her eyes, it was like the air had shifted. It wasn’t just the typical thrill he got from seeing someone squirm. No, this was different.

Damn it, he thought, biting his lip in frustration. "I’ve been with dozens of women, flirted, bantered, and gotten them to laugh or swoon. But this? This is..." He exhaled sharply, rubbing his face.

'Why is it so different with her?'

 He couldn’t stop thinking about her. The way she’d looked at him when he’d walked in—so defiant, so fiery. It was like she was a puzzle he wanted to solve, a challenge that pulled him in, deeper and deeper.

He groaned, muttering under his breath, “You’re overthinking it. It’s just a game, Alaric. A little fun. Nothing more.”

But the words felt hollow even to him.

He had always been able to see through people, to understand them almost immediately. Yet with Erika... he couldn’t. She wasn’t like the others, who wore their motives on their sleeves and were eager to please him. No, Erika made him work for it. She didn’t cower when he teased her, didn’t play along when he tried to charm her. She pushed back. And that... that was what intrigued him. She didn’t make things easy, and for some reason, that made him want her more.

But was that just amusement? Was he merely entertained by her, by her stubbornness, her sharp wit? Or was he feeling something more?

Alaric pushed off the wall and began pacing down the hallway, his hands running through his hair. 'You can’t be falling for her. You’ve never fallen for anyone. You don’t need love. You need... control.'

His thoughts trailed off, but they didn’t make him feel any more confident. He’d always been the one in charge, the one who decided when and how things went. But with Erika? She was the one who made the rules. She made him question his instincts and made him doubt what he knew. And worse, when he looked at her—truly looked at her—he didn’t just see a woman to marry or a pawn to move in the royal game. He saw... her.

'No,' he shook his head, frustration bubbling up. 'I’m not falling in love with her. I’m just... intrigued. It’s curiosity. That’s all it is.'

But deep down, a voice whispered something else. Something he didn’t want to acknowledge.

Alaric stopped, looking out at the royal gardens from a window, his eyes seeing nothing but the quiet swirl of thoughts in his mind. He gripped the window frame tightly, trying to steady his racing heart. 'Maybe it’s both.'

Maybe he was falling for her... and maybe it was a dangerous game he was playing, one that would only end with him getting hurt.

He closed his eyes, trying to clear the storm in his mind. It was supposed to be simple. She would be his fake lover stopping his father and the court's constant pushing. But now? Now, it was anything but simple.

“Stop it,” he whispered to himself, standing tall and straightening his clothes. “Focus. Focus on what matters. You have a kingdom to run. You don’t have time for this.”

But even as he said the words, he knew they weren’t true. He had time. More time than he’d ever wanted. And the more time he spent with Erika, the more uncertain he became about everything he thought he knew. The corridors of the imperial palace stretched long and silent, but Prince Alaric’s thoughts were far from still. His boots echoed faintly against the polished stone floor, a rhythm that matched the quickened beat of his heart. Somewhere down the hall, Erika’s fiery glare still lingered in his mind, branding itself there like an unshakable mark. Her defiance, her sharp tongue, the way she clenched her fists when frustrated—it was unlike anything he had ever encountered. But he also knew there was something more about her that he was willing to unravel.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.  

Alaric paused by a tall window overlooking the gardens, leaning his forehead against the cool glass. He tried to find clarity, to see beyond the storm of emotions swirling in his chest. Instead, all he could see was her.  

She had turned his world upside down, and he hated it. Or maybe he didn’t. That thought unsettled him most of all.  

“Still staring into the abyss, Your Highness?”  

The voice was dry, with a hint of amusement. Alaric didn’t need to turn to recognize Dominic, his ever-present aide. Loyal to a fault but utterly irreverent, Dominic had an uncanny ability to balance professionalism with a near-constant stream of sarcasm.  

“What do you want?” Alaric muttered without looking away from the gardens.  

Dominic strolled up beside him, his hands tucked lazily into the pockets of his coat. His dark hair was slightly tousled, as though he’d been napping rather than performing his duties. “Oh, nothing in particular. I just enjoy watching you flounder. It’s rare to see you so... rattled.”  

Alaric turned to glare at him, his green eyes narrowing. “I’m not rattled.”  

Dominic raised a brow. “Right. And I’m the Emperor of the neighboring kingdom.”  

Alaric rolled his eyes and straightened his posture, trying to project the confidence that always came so easily to him. “If you must know, I’m simply thinking.”  

“Thinking,” Dominic echoed, his tone heavy with mock disbelief. “Now that is troubling. What could occupy your mind so thoroughly? Surely not the girl you dragged halfway across the empire and declared your ‘one true love.’”  

Alaric’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing.  

Dominic tilted his head, studying him. “Ah, so it is about her.” He smirked. “I thought so. Let me guess—you’re starting to feel something inconvenient. Guilt, perhaps? Or, dare I say it, affection?”  

“Enough,” Alaric snapped, pushing off the wall and pacing down the corridor. “I don’t need a lecture from you, Dominic.”  

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of lecturing you,” Dominic said, falling into step beside him. “You wouldn’t listen anyway. I’m just here to offer my moral support—or lack thereof.”  

Alaric shot him a withering look but kept walking. His thoughts were already pulling him back, back to the moment this whole mess began.  

It was months ago, in the far eastern provinces. The imperial market was alive with color and sound, a bustling labyrinth of traders shouting their wares, the clinking of coins, and the scent of exotic spices wafting through the air. Alaric had been traveling incognito, dressed in plain clothes with a hood drawn low over his golden hair.  

Dominic had accompanied him, though his disheveled appearance and nonchalant demeanor hardly made him inconspicuous. “Remind me again why we’re here,” Dominic had said, examining a piece of jewelry at a nearby stall.  

“To escape my father’s incessant lectures about duty and marriage,” Alaric replied, his voice low.  

“Ah, yes. The dreaded Lady Caroline,” Dominic said with a smirk. “A perfectly suitable match, I hear. Intelligent, poised, comes with an impressive dowry. Truly a nightmare.”  

Alaric ignored him, scanning the crowd. “She’s not the problem. The problem is my father thinking he can dictate my entire life.”  

“And here I thought the Emperor was merely doing his job,” Dominic said dryly.  

But Alaric wasn’t listening. His gaze had landed on a young woman arguing with a merchant over the price of a scarf. Her voice was firm but measured, her words laced with an undeniable edge of determination. Her brown eyes burned with intensity, and her presence commanded attention despite her plain dress.  

He felt an inexplicable pull toward her.  

“There,” he said, nodding toward her.  

Dominic followed his gaze and frowned. “The girl? What about her?”  

“She’s the answer to my problem.”  

Dominic blinked, his expression flat. “Your problem being the arranged marriage your father is pushing on you?”  

“Yes,” Alaric said, a slow grin spreading across his face. “If I present someone who doesn’t fit his expectations, he’ll have to abandon the idea altogether.”  

Dominic stared at him for a long moment, then sighed. “You know, I really should start charging you for these harebrained schemes. Fine, go ahead. Drag some poor, unsuspecting girl into your royal drama. What could go wrong?”  

Back in the present, Alaric ran a hand through his hair, his green eyes clouded with uncertainty. He hadn’t expected the plan to spiral into something so complicated. He certainly hadn’t expected her to affect him the way she did.  

“She’s not like anyone I’ve ever met,” he muttered under his breath.  

“Who? Erika? Of course, she's different, she's a foreigner.” Dominic said, breaking into his thoughts.  

Alaric glared at him again. “Do you ever stop eavesdropping?”  

“I wouldn’t have to if you spoke to yourself less,” Dominic replied with a shrug. “So, what’s the verdict? Is she still just part of your grand plan, or have you started to realize she’s more than that?”  

Alaric didn’t answer. Instead, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small leather-bound journal. He flipped through the pages until he found the entry he had written after seeing Erika in the market:  

No man in his right mind would tolerate or want a woman like her. She is fire and steel, utterly unfit for the role of a docile, obedient wife. But perhaps that is what makes her perfect for me.

He stared at the words, feeling their weight more deeply now than when he had written them. Back then, they had been a justification, an excuse to convince himself that he was in control. But now? Now they felt like a prophecy.  

“She’s the best decision I’ve ever made,” he said quietly, closing the journal.  

Dominic arched a brow. “Bold statement. Let’s hope she doesn’t end up being the worst mistake you’ve ever made, too.”  

Alaric smirked, but there was no humor in it. “She won’t. Even if she drives me mad, even if she makes me question everything I thought I knew—she’s worth it.”  

Dominic watched him for a moment, his usual smirk replaced by a rare flicker of genuine curiosity. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”  

“Yes,” Alaric said simply.  

For once, Dominic didn’t have a sarcastic comeback. Alaric slipped the journal back into his pocket and straightened his coat. Whatever chaos lay ahead, he would face it head-on. Erika might not know it yet, but she had already changed him—and there was no turning back.