"Shall we, then?" I murmured, low enough that only Alexander could hear. A subtle reminder that, for better or worse, our lives are now entwined. Alexander didn't answer. He simply walked ahead, the ghost of past choices and unwanted futures following him out the door.

I followed him out and I couldn't ignore the stark difference in height between us-Alexander barely reached my chest, standing at five foot seven against my six foot six stature. Yet, despite the contrast, the smaller man carried himself with the kind of quiet poise that made him seem taller than he was, like royalty that had never needed size to command a room. Through the tailored cut of his suit, lean muscle pressed subtly against fine fabric, not overly built but carved in a way that hinted at strength beneath elegance.

A body not made for brute force, but for precision-each line defined without excess, a balance of grace and restraint. It was the kind of physique that spoke of discipline, not dominance, as if his body had been sculpted to endure rather than overpower. I've met men twice his size who held themselves smaller. But this Little Prince? He stood like he belonged, like he had no intention of yielding-not to me, not to anyone except for his grandfather maybe.

Fascinating.

I have never been fascinated by anyone in a long time-let alone a man. It wasn't attraction, not exactly. It was something quieter, more unsettling. A flicker of curiosity I hadn't felt since God knows when. I have spent his life surrounded by ruthless armed men, warriors, and criminals who wielded strength like a weapon. But Alexander? He was something else entirely. Soft-spoken but unyielding. Too regal for a fight, yet something about him felt...unbreakable. I exhaled slowly, rolling my shoulders as if shaking off the thought. I had never been drawn to anyone before.

Not like this.

As Alexander walked with a grace of a gazelle, he opened a door and stepped aside motioning me to go in first, a refined gentleman at best. Alexander steps inside, after me and shutting the door. I looked around the private study, beautifully designed like the estate, rows of tomes on the shelves, a window overlooking what's behind the estate, though not much is seen as the darkness hid whatever was outside the window.

"That looks painful," Alexander observed, voice steady, carefully impassive. I didn't realize I was lazily rolling my bruised hand on my palm. Amusement peeked my attention even more. I, leaning back against the desk, follows his stare before smirking. What happened next, surprised me. He took a couple of strides towards me, took my bruised hand.

The scent hit me the moment he stepped closer-strawberry and pomegranate. Sweet, but not cloying. A contradiction, just like him. I hadn't expected that. Hadn't expected him to smell like something so soft, so-inviting. Like it belonged to someone warm. Someone gentle. Not the sharp-tongued, prim and proper man standing in front of me, looking at me like I was a nuisance he had to tolerate.

A delicious current of electricity trailed from his touch that ran all over my skin. His hands were soft, gentle, a little cold but felt good against the red bruise of my knuckles. I watched his as he swallowed, knowing that he felt the same thing I did. He started flexing the movements of my finger, checking its movement.

"You should see the other guy." My tone is light, teasing. Alexander exhales, removing his touch from my hand.

"You should wrap that," Alexander said at last, his voice calm, cool. I huffed a quiet laugh, flexing my fingers as if testing the pain.

"Didn't know you were the worrying type, Kensington." Alexander ignored the jab, eyes unmoving.

"You just came from a fight." It wasn't a question.

Perceptive Little Prince. I smirked, turning slightly.

"That obvious?" Alexander's gaze lingered for a moment longer before he moved out of the room, leaving me briefly then came back with a medicine kit. He opened the box of first aid equipment, grabbed a cotton ball, drench it with antiseptic. He took my hand pressed the antiseptic soaked cotton ball to each cuts on my knuckles, in turn the stinging pain every time the antiseptic made contact with my wound, made me hiss a little.

"Sorry," he mumbled. He grabbed a cloth and a gauze and gave it to me. I took it, arching a brow.

"What's this?" he rolled his eyes. "A reminder that never show up to dinner with a bloodied knuckle-it isn't exactly good optics." I chuckled, low and amused, and wrapped my bruised hand.

"You sure it's not just an excuse to hold my hand?" I teased. Alexander shot me a withering look, but I only smirked, pressing the cloth to my knuckles as if to humor him. Silence befalls between us as he closed the medicine kit and we're looking at each other, locked in a brief staring contest. The way he carried himself-back straight, chin lifted, speaking with that practiced politeness-it was almost regal. Too composed for someone forced into this arrangement. Too composed for someone standing in a room alone with a man like me.

"Six months ago, I found you bleeding out in the snow. And now here we are-different place, different circumstances... but you're still hurt." He said with a pointed tone. I didn't know why but I smiled.

"So you do remember," I'm starting to like getting under his skin. "What can I say? Guess I have a habit of showing up in front of you half-dead." He rolled his eyes. A mix of irritation and amusement came to me.

"Try showing up in one piece for once, Mr. King." I exhaled a quiet chuckle, shaking my head.

"You always this proper, or do I just bring it out of you?" Alexander now barely spared me a glance.

"I don't see how that's relevant." That only made me grin wider. I leaned against the desk, tilting my head, studying him. The golden hair, the sharp green eyes that refused to meet his for too long, the way the dim light caught the edges of his cheekbones. Too pretty. Too composed. Too much like a prince out of place in a world like his.

"Little Prince," I murmured, testing the nickname I gave him during dinner. That made Alexander look at me. His fingers twitched under his folded arms, and for a moment-just a moment-I swore I saw something crack in that carefully built composure. It was so brief I could almost imagined it. But then, Alexander exhaled slowly, closing his eyes as if summoning patience.

"Don't call me that."

I grinned. "Not a fan of nicknames?"

"Not from you." That only made me laugh.

"Oh, now you're just making me want to say it more." I heard him sigh which caught my amusement. I chuckled, shifting my weight as I flexed my bruised fingers, wrapped in a cloth.

"You sure you don't like it? Feels fitting. All prim and proper, dressed like you walked out of a royal portrait. Yeah...Little Prince suits you." Alexander shot me a flat look, unimpressed.

"You realize a prince still outranks a commoner, don't you?" Atlas grinned.

"That so?" I pushed off the desk, stepping just close enough to be a little intrusive. "Guess that means I should start calling you Your Highness instead." Alexander didn't move, didn't even blink. A brief flash of pain in his eyes until distaste. Looks like I hit a nerve.

"I'd prefer if you didn't address me at all." I let out a low laugh, clearly amused.

"See, the way you say that? It just makes me want to keep talking." Alexander rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Fantastic." I took another step, stretching his arms behind my head as I smirked.

"You know, Little Prince, for someone who supposedly hates this arrangement, you're handling it awfully well. Almost like you're used to entertaining unwanted company." Alexander leveled with me in a cool stare.

"You're not special, Mr. King." My grin went wider. There's something about the way my name rolled out his tongue and that pretty mouth of his.

"That's where you're wrong." Alexander turned away, clearly done with this conversation, but me? I was still watching him, still amused. Because for all of Alexander's sharp words, his irritation, his carefully built walls-I had seen it. That slight flicker in his eyes when I called him Little Prince. And that?

That was interesting.