"You should come with me, Your Highness."

Yujin wanted to protest, but the diplomat was already decisively leading him away, leaving the First Prince of Raumliveria behind, who was immediately surrounded by other nobles.

Yujin forced himself to smile at the dignitaries, nodding and answering questions, but his thoughts were far away—where Errol remained. Time dragged on unbearably slowly. Finally, the formalities were observed, and, offering his excuses, he hurried back.

His heart was pounding wildly, as if warning him of something. And for good reason.

Errol was standing by a tall window with a glass of wine, and… he was talking to Philimona. His sister was smiling sweetly, telling him something, and he was nodding with a smile. Something sharp and hot stabbed under Yujin's ribs. He froze, unable to look away. Why did it hurt so much? He turned sharply and left the hall. His footsteps echoed on the marble, his breath coming in gasps. Yes, this pain in his chest was from that potion Aselet had given him to drink earlier—it certainly wasn't jealousy!

He walked along the wide corridor, the thick carpet with gold-embroidered patterns muffling his steps. Yujin purposefully tried to think of anything else, to distract himself. And yet, it was strange that Aselet was here. Was he really here just to give him that drink? But why? As far as Yujin remembered, Raumliveria and the Itlalian Empire were on quite friendly terms…

"Asi..." he murmured thoughtfully.

"Who are you talking about?"

The voice came from right behind him, and Yujin flinched, whirling around. Errol stood three paces away, his brow furrowed, his violet eyes gleaming under the warm, bright corridor lights. 

"You... how are you here?" Yujin was flustered. 

"Finally managed to escape those stuffy moles!" Errol smiled and stepped closer. "So, who were you talking about?"

Yujin suddenly snorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Why? Are you jealous?"

In response, Errol took a sharp step forward, his hand landing on the wall beside Yujin's head, cutting off any retreat. Yujin's back instinctively pressed against the cold marble, but inside, everything was on fire.

"Yes. I'm terribly jealous." Errol's voice was low, intense. "I don't want you thinking about other men. I want you thinking only of me."

His breath scorched Yujin's skin, his lips were so close Yujin could feel their warmth. His heart hammered wildly, blood roared in his ears. He was thrilled, flustered, lost—and he didn't want it to stop. Errol leaned in, their faces almost touching, but Yujin sharply turned his head away, whispering with a tremor in his voice:

"But you yourself were just talking to women... Smiling at them. You forbid me, yet you do it yourself?"

A quiet sigh seared Yujin's ear. 

"No woman... No man... No one compares to you. You are the only one who matters. If you say the word, I will never look at another woman again. I won't even speak to one..."

Their gazes met. Something wild, insatiable, burned in Errol's eyes. He leaned in again, and this time, Yujin didn't resist. Their lips were a centimeter apart, their breaths mingled... 

"Their Highnesses are missing! Where are they?!" a voice called from around the corner.

Yujin gasped, but before he could move, Errol's strong hands yanked him sharply. A door beside them flew open and slammed shut in an instant.

They were in a dark room. Footsteps pounded past the door, the voices of nobles and servants drawing closer, but they weren't found. Silence. Only ragged breathing. Yujin realized he was still pressed against Errol, their bodies merged in the darkness.

“You…” he began, but the words caught in his throat.

He could feel Errol's arousal against his hip — hard, hot, treacherously obvious even through the layers of their clothing.

“May I?” Errol's voice was hoarse, almost pleading.

Yujin trembled. His own body was answering that call, blood pulsing in his temples, yet somewhere deep in his soul, a flicker of fear stirred.

"No," he whispered, his fingers tightening on the fabric of Errol's suit. "We can't."

Errol froze, then let out a heavy sigh and slowly, with visible effort, pulled back. But instead of letting go, his hands slid gently downwards, his palms enveloping Yujin's wrists.

"Alright," he said quietly, and there wasn't a trace of irritation in his voice, only warmth. "Let's just sit."

They sank down onto the old couch, upholstered in faded velvet. Errol settled Yujin onto his lap, carefully drew him close to his chest, and Yujin, without resisting, buried his face in the neck, breathing in the sharp scent of skin mixed with expensive cologne.

"How are you?" Errol ran his fingers down his back, barely touching, as if afraid to crush him. "Are you satisfied with the meal now? And these negotiations aren't too tiring?"

Yujin let out a soft laugh, the tension gradually leaving him.

"Everything's fine," he said, feeling genuine gratitude for this care. He didn't want to ruin such an intimate, pleasant moment with his own problems. He squeezed his eyes shut in pleasure as the warm hand began to gently stroke his head.

"So, who is Asi?" Errol suddenly asked, and his fingers paused for a moment, as if in anticipation. Yujin hadn't planned on being evasive. And he told it as it was.

"Just a friend. Our mothers are friends, and we've been friends since childhood... I remembered while I was walking that I haven't written to him in a long time..."

Errol suddenly laughed in relief. Yujin felt his soft lips against the top of his head.

"Just a friend?"

"Absolutely." 

"Good."

Yujin smiled, pressing against his chest and listening to the beat of his heart. Somewhere beyond the door, footsteps could still be heard, but here, in this small room, time seemed to have stopped.

Moonlight barely pierced through the heavy curtains, its silvery glints sliding across Yujin's face.

Errol gazed at his features—relaxed, sincere, without a trace of falsehood. "Just a friend." The words echoed in his head, dissolving the last remnants of tension. His magical forest sprite wasn't lying. And from that, it felt so easy, as if an invisible weight had lifted from his shoulders.

"Tell me about your childhood," Yujin asked, his fingers gently intertwining with Errol's.

The prince smiled, holding Yujin tighter.

"Oh, it was nothing but mischief. Once, Moe and I stole a cake from the head chef right before the royal dinner. The whole hall was waiting for dessert, while we were sitting in the garden, covered in cream from head to toe."

Yujin laughed, his laughter bright and warm, filling the room with something vibrant and luminous.

"I once fell into a fountain trying to save a crow," he confessed, hiding his smile in Errol's shoulder.

"A crow?" Errol was surprised.

"Yes. It kept coming back to my windowsill for a long time after, bringing me worms!"

Errol laughed, his hands slipping beneath Yujin's doublet, feeling the warmth of his skin.

"So you've always been this... charming."

Yujin blushed but didn't pull away. On the contrary, his own fingers reached for Errol's face, tracing his defined cheekbones. Their lips met for the first time that day—tentatively, cautiously, as if afraid to startle the moment. But with each subsequent kiss, the fear evaporated. It grew hot. Their breaths quickened, their hands became less gentle, more demanding.

Errol unfastened Yujin's sash, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric. Yujin shuddered but did not stop him. The clothing shifted, revealing hot skin. A moan escaped Yujin's lips, his fingers digging into Errol's shoulders as the prince's palm stroked his flesh. The first friction made both men hold their breath. Their bodies moved towards each other, hips finding a rhythm of their own.

 The creak of the couch merged with their quickening breaths.

"Do you feel that?" Errol's breathing was ragged, his movements growing sharper, making the couch groan louder. "Do you feel how you're driving me mad?"

"Errol!.."

Yujin writhed in his grasp, each thrust of hips bringing unbearable pleasure. Their kiss dissolved into a chaotic clash of lips, teeth, and tongues.

Errol felt the body before him tense, and in the next moment, a hot wave flooded his fingers. His own climax followed immediately after—with a muffled growl, a final powerful thrust of his hips pressing Yujin against him.

"What is this..." Yujin murmured as if in a daze, sighing languidly, "...you're like some kind of incubus... to do such things..."

Errol laughed, tenderly holding his sweet sprite close to his chest.

"No, my peach, you're the true incubus here."

And he covered Yujin's lips with his own, savoring the kiss.