we do not give hayley williams enough flowers for being able to give a vocal performance so powerful and emotional that it sounds like shes screaming so hard she might throw up without compromising how pleasant her voice is to listen to.
synopsis ─❥ After arriving to the Choi family castle to assist with wedding preparations, you are assigned to Prince Keeho—a man whose reputation for arrogance and womanizing is overshadowed only by his apparent boredom. Used to being adored, Prince Keeho comes to learn of your indifference towards him, along with your refusal to be charmed and an obsession he can’t explain ignites within him. Slowly the lines between Prince and servant blur as dynamics shift. In a world held together by hierarchy, a forbidden attraction threatens to unravel everything you’ve worked for— and expose a heart the Prince didn't know he had.
✦ — nsfw (mdni), forbidden romance, mutual pining, power imbalance, hurt/comfort, angst, jealousy, sexual tension, smut, loss of virginity, passionate sex, oral (m receiving), slight manhandaling/roughness
♫ Verses - Tamino
✦ — well friends—here we are :} this needs no further introduction atp so sit back, relax, and enjoy (hopefully) Also please leave an interaction whether that's a like, comment, or reblog + any feedback I would really appreciate it :'D Act II coming tomorrow!
SERIES MASTERLIST
⚬───────────────✧───────────────⚬
The first rays of dawn broke through the high windows of Prince Keeho’s bedchamber, painting the grandeur space in a heavenly glow. He stirred at the sudden warmth cast upon his back and jolted fully awake at the sound of the door opening and closing, pulling him from the blurred edges of his dream.
He blinked slowly, vision still clouded by sleep, making the figure moving across his room nothing more than a hazy silhouette framed by the bright window. He lay still as his eyes continued to slowly clear and adjust, taking in the white lace first, then the grey fabric of the dress until finally, he took in the full sight of you, the morning light outlining your body in a soft and almost ethereal glow.
He couldn’t help the lazy smile that grew on his lips. It was you. His newest fixation. His newest maid that he’d claimed for himself just days ago. He propped himself up on one elbow as he watched you flit through the room. You set the tray you were holding down on a table near the entrance with a soft clink. You were focused, brows slightly furrowed and lips pressed tightly together, a look of detached concentration. The dust in the air floated gently around you and he could have sworn that when you moved, your hair followed in slow, agonizing sways. Maybe he really hadn’t woken up at all.
His voice, deep and rough with sleep, broke the quiet peace of the room, “Either I’m still dreaming, or I’ve ascended to the heavens.”
You jumped just slightly at the sudden sound, turning away from the table to face him. Your brows drew even further together in a faint, puzzled frown, and his smile widened ever so slightly at the expression. “Your Highness?” You spoke, voice steady and clear, devoid of the shaking nervousness he was accustomed to from the rest of the castle servants.
Keeho didn’t answer immediately. He slowly pushed himself up, letting the blankets pool around his hips, revealing his bare and lean torso. He rested an arm behind his head, a clear picture of his lazy royalty, and let his gaze travel over your body openly, appreciatively. Finally, he sighed, slow and content. “I see an angel before me.”
Your face, once neutral and void, instantly soured. It was a subtle shift in your expression—the corners of your mouth tightened and your eyes narrowed into slits—but it was there. You didn’t roll your eyes, didn’t scoff. You simply turned your back to him with a surrendering sigh and returned to the task at hand, adjusting the placement of a spoon with more force than necessary.
And so it begins again, you thought. It had been three days—seventy-two hours of being at the beck and call of His Royal Highness, Prince Keeho, arguably the kingdom’s most useless heir—in your opinion anyway. Seventy-two hours didn’t seem that long, but in his presence, each hour stretched into an eternity of enduring his relentless, shameless flirtation. God bless the poor girl that would be forced to marry him.
It was truly frustrating. You had only come to the castle out of sheer necessity after all. The impending royal wedding of the Crown Prince had sent the Choi Kingdom into a frenzy of preparation and the demand for more staff and servants grew exponentially. The wages were good, better than anything you could find in your village or the nearby town.
Your family—a mother whose hands were worn from years of basket weaving and sewing, a father with a persistent cough from decades of mine work, and two younger sisters—needed the money desperately. You’d kissed your mother’s cheek with a promise to send coin as soon as you were paid and travelled the far way to the castle gates with a knot of anxiety and determination in your stomach.
The work was hard, but you’d managed just fine thus far. There was a lot of scrubbing, hauling, and polishing but you simply kept your head down and executed your tasks. You were hoping not to draw any unnecessary attention to yourself but that had only lasted for a week because on your eighth day, you were reassigned.
You had been standing outside in a neat line of nervous young women, two dozen or so, postures ranging from pin straight to slightly slumped under the weight of the Head Housekeeper’s fierce scowl. She’d droned on and on about the next phase of training while the girls dressed in ill-fitting uniforms listened on, their faces a mix of eager hope and scared apprehension.
Keeho, having successfully evaded another tiresome and boring council meeting about… God knows what, had stumbled upon the gathering. He paused under a shaded column that bordered the courtyard, leaning casually against a stone pillar as his eyes passed over the girls with disinterest. There was a pretty blond with wide, frightened eyes. A tall redhead who looked a second away from passing out. A tiny girl who would not stop fidgeting with the ties on her apron.
Then, his eye caught.
It was almost like a driving force within him, a magnetic pull that stole every morsel of free will from his body, surrendering himself to the fate of you.
You were stood directly in the middle of the line, shoulders straight and pushed back, the elegant slope of your neck holding your head up high. Your hair had been tied loosely with a simple piece of twine, a few rebellious strands escaping to frame your face. His eyes moved from the curve of your jaw to your lips, up the length of your nose, and finally to your squinted eyes desperately trying to block out the piercing sun.
Keeho felt the air leave his lungs in an involuntary exhale and a jolt, sharp and hot, moved through his body. It wasn’t a feeling he could pinpoint. Desire? No, though there was an immediate low thrum in his blood. It felt like something akin to fascination. It was a sudden, overwhelming need to know more. He needed to know what your voice, your laugh sounded like. He needed to know your name, to test it on his tongue. He needed to know who you were and how you came to be here, in his presence.
The Head Housekeeper finished her speech with a final clap of her hands. The line of maids quickly dispersed, some chattering nervously, some heading into the castle with a naive determination. You turned then, giving him a full view of your beauty and it was more than he was prepared for. You continued forward, gaze sweeping across the entrance. For a fleeting, heart-stopping second, they passed over where he stood. He held his breath, willing your eyes to meet his, for you to feel that pull as he did, but they didn’t. They moved on, already focused on the next task at hand.
You followed the others back into the castle and Keeho felt an absurd hollowness settle in his chest, as if something vital had been taken from him. He needed to see you again, needed to be the focus of your intense concentration. He needed to understand why he felt so drawn to you. The connotation of it was exhilarating.
“Head Housekeeper!” He called out, cutting through the air with the casual authority of a prince.
The older woman spun around to face him, her face paling slightly at the sight of a member of the crown. “Your Highness! I… I did not see you there.”
“No matter,” Keeho dismissed, his eyes still fixed on the now-empty doorway. “See to it that the maid that was standing directly in the center is appointed to me.” There was no room left for argument in his tone. He was a Prince and princes got what they wanted.
Without waiting for a response, Keeho had turned and continued on his walk, the image of you seared into his head.
And now there you were, serving his breakfast while he lounged half-naked and spouted ridiculous lines.
Maybe I should just let my family starve.
Behind you, you heard the rustle of sheets and the soft thud of his bare feet hitting the thick persian rug at the foot of his bed. You could sense his approach, the scent of him growing stronger the closer he got. He surely was invading your space, his presence a solid wall of heat radiating on your back. You paused, hand stilling on the edge of the tray, as you took a slow, controlled breath and turned around.
He was right there, mere inches of space separating you. You kept your eyes fixed firmly on his face, on his dark amused eyes. It took every ounce of discipline you had, fighting against the temptation to not let your gaze drop to the lines of his collarbones, down the smooth skin of his chest and stomach. Perhaps even lower to explore what was still hidden beneath the low-slung linen of his sleep pants that left little to the imagination. It was a palpable itch.
You ignored it, expression a careful mask of disinterest.
He smiled down at you, a cocky smile that was undoubtedly devastating—all white teeth with full plump lips, eyes narrowed into intimidating slits. It was no doubt the kind of smile that had melted the resolve of countless court ladies and servants alike. But you felt nothing short of simmering impatience.
“Is there anything else I can do for you, Your Highness?”
His smile didn’t falter at your blatant disregard for him. Instead he leaned in, voice dropping to an alluring murmur. “Have breakfast with me?”
You only executed a small, perfect curtsy, eyes lowering to the rug before meeting his again. “If there is nothing else, then, Your Highness.”
It was a clear dismissal of his insinuations. Without waiting for a reply, you stepped neatly around him, your skirt brushing against his leg, and walked steadily to the door.
Keeho didn’t move to stop you. He simply watched you go, head tilted and eyes hypnotized by the sight of your retreating figure. The door closed behind you and the charming smile faded from his lips. He brought his bottom one in between his teeth, biting softly as he replayed the memory of your skirt brushing him over and over and over again. He wandered back to the bed and sank onto the edge, glancing at the perfectly arranged breakfast he now had no appetite for, wondering what it would take to make you fold.
──────✦
The castle kitchens were incredibly overstimulating due to the mix of suffocating heat and a multitude of scents that wafted in the air. But to you, it felt like a sanctuary. A reprieve from the suffocating, oak-scented air of Prince Keeho’s chambers. You would take the uncomfortable pool of sweat dripping down your back over his sharp gaze any day.
You slumped onto a rough wooden stool in the corner, watching your childhood friend knead a massive mound of dough with surprisingly violent punches far too strong for her stature. Her presence was calming after the morning you had, a familiar face you had grown up with in the village who managed to secure a spot in the kitchens just as you were hired for housekeeping.
“An angel,” you scoffed, picking at a loose thread on your apron. You gestured vaguely at your tired expression and chuckled manically. “The audacity he has…. Tell me, would an angel have to pathetically slave after arrogant lords and ladies and princes and princesses and— URGH!”
She didn’t look up from her dough as she listened to your crashout—your eyes following her frantic movements as she rushed to complete her kneading. When you finished she smirked at the obviousness of the situation.
“Well, we clearly know what he wants. You’ve heard the rumors, haven’t you?”
“Against my will!” You were exasperated. The castle gossip traveled faster than the plague. “I would do anything to not hear about his whorish behaviour. I don’t care to know that he sleeps with half the castle without a care for their station or their ruined reputations.”
“And the half he isn’t fucking, he’s flirting with,” the baker girl added, finally looking up and wiping her forehead with the back of her wrist. She leaned against the worktable, eyeing you critically. “I can’t blame him, though.”
You blinked up at her, confused. “Excuse me?”
“Look at you,” she said, gesturing with a flour covered hand as it sprinkled down on you. “You’re gorgeous. If you weren’t dressed in that hideous garb anyone would think you were noble-born. Plus you have that…. don’t-touch-me icy look that drives men mad. Remember Illia from the town?”
You huffed out a sigh, rolling your eyes towards the ceiling. “I told you never to bring him up again. And it’s not a look! It’s exhaustion.”
“Well,” She shrugged, her tone turning deceptive. “Why not?”
“Why not what?”
“Why not sleep with him?”
You choked on your own spit, a cough ripping violently through you as you felt a rush of heat travelling up your neck. “Why—” you wheezed, pounding your chest, “—why would I ever do such a thing?”
“Come on,” she laughed, clearly amused by your scandalized reaction. “He’s royalty. He’s handsome—don’t try to deny it—and rich. When will you ever get an opportunity like that again? You never know, it could be fun.”
You shook your head vehemently, the blush now lingering on your cheeks. “He is vile,” you snapped, your voice dropping to a low hiss to make sure no one else overheard your treason. “He is lazy and arrogant and shameless. God I just hate how these people think that just because they are royalty they have a claim to whatever and whoever they want. I mean, they were born into it, they just got lucky.”
The baker’s smile faded slightly at your words, replaced by one of understanding. She sighed, returning to her dough. “I’m with you on that one. We live in completely different worlds.”
The silence settled around you as you both pondered over her words. Your heart was finally starting to calm down and you glanced out the narrow window, assessing the angle of the sun.
“Damn it,” you muttered, hopping off the stool. “I have to go. I’m supposed to pick a basket of fruits and deliver it to the throne room. Apparently the Princess that is to be wed to the Crown Prince is to arrive tomorrow.”
You brushed the bit of flour you had off your skirt and stepped towards the door. You paused, looking back at her. A subtle pang of protectiveness snagged at your heart at the sight of her. She was younger than you and in a place like this, that made you worry.
“You’re doing okay?” you ask, your voice softening into that of an older sister. “Eating enough? Staying out of trouble?”
She grinned large enough to give you a view of her full set of teeth, eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief that used to get you both chased by the village elders. “So far, so good.”
“Keep it that way,” you warned, though a small smile tugged at your lips. “You’ve always had an aptitude for causing chaos. Don’t let it get you fired or worse.”
“Go deliver your fruit, angel,” she teased.
You shot her a glare over your shoulder before pushing out into the cooler air of the corridor, bracing yourself for the long day ahead.
──────✦
You navigated the corridors of the castle while trying to be as stealthy as possible, keen on not being seen by anyone of importance.
You rounded the castle until you reached the southern gardens that gave way to the vast orchards, and for a moment, the suffocating tension of the castle lifted.
It was undeniable how beautiful the grounds really were, especially when stripped of all the politics and gossip. The land was simply peaceful
You made your way down with a large basket at your side as you moved from tree to tree, harvesting the ripest fruits with a practiced hand. It reminded you of home. You remembered running through the wilder more unkept groves in your village, your little sisters chasing you with sticky hands. Your mother would watch on gleefully, calling you back so you could head home for supper.
Things seemed so simple then, but now? Now the responsibilities of adulthood weigh heavily on your shoulders.
You picked one final peach, setting it atop the variety of fruits, and took a deep breath, savoring the solitude one last time before you had to return to the real world. You hoisted the basket high up your arm, holding its heavy weight against your hip—it dug into your skin but it was a familiar burden.
You finally made your way back to the castle and halfway to the door, you spotted him.
Prince Keeho was strolling leisurely across the cobblestone, and he wasn't alone. Trailing around him were three noble ladies that had recently arrived at the castle. They were giggling shrilly, fans fluttering their unmistakably red faces, no doubt the product of Prince Keeho’s teasing tongue.
You rolled your eyes so hard you were surprised they didn't fall out of your skull and into the basket in front of you.
You took a sharp left, aiming for a detour to the kitchens. You thought maybe you could hide there until he was sure to be gone but luck had rarely been on your side.
You glanced at him one more time to make sure he was distracted and it just so happened that that was when he decided to turn his head in your direction, and your eyes met.
The barely polite, bored smile he wore for the ladies vanished in an instant, replaced by a bright and genuine grin that made your face fall.
You picked up your pace just as he stopped to say something to the group. He waved his hand dismissively and turned away, missing their deep curtseys as he rushed towards you. Just as you slipped into the corridor your eye caught the daggers being thrown your way, and you jerked your head forward.
“Wait!” He called after you, footsteps beating down on the cobblestone fast and hard. You picked up pace, careful not to trip over your skirt when he bypassed you; you cursed his long legs in your head.
He transitioned to effortlessly walking backwards in front of you and for a second you imagined him tripping over a large rock and you smiled.
“Happy to see me?”
Your smile had never dropped quicker, a snarl taking over it instead. To your dismay he kept up with your hurried stride all while looking disgustingly attractive.
When you didn't answer him he posed another question. “Why did you run off so quickly this morning?”
“I did my job, there was no other reason to stay.”
“No reason?” He feigned hurt with a hand clutched over his chest right where his heart would be.
You stopped abruptly before him. Your earlier annoyance coupled with the heavy weight against your side left no room for patience. You looked up with the blankest expression you could muster and spoke, voice dripping in a sarcasm uncharacteristic to you.
“It may be hard to believe, Your Highness, but I have other duties besides serving you.”
His eyebrows shot up his forehead as a slow, delighted smirk formed on his plush lips. “Well isn't that just a shame?”
He looked almost giddy at your response. This was the first time you showed anything but disinterest in him. You’ve cracked, although not in the way he’d hoped, he was enjoying the fire beneath the ice nonetheless.
You adjusted the heavy basket higher up on your hip, flicking your head to the side to rid your eyes of the hair stuck in front of them. “Did you actually need something, Your Highness? Or will you allow me to deliver this basket to the throne room. It is quite heavy.”
“Here.”
Before you could protest, he reached out and yanked the basket from your hand. Caught off guard by the sudden force, you stumbled forward and straight into his chest.
He caught you with his free hand around your waist and pressed you close against him. The collision knocked the breath out of you as you looked up at him with wide eyes.
“Call me Keeho, please,” he murmured. Your faces were barely an inch apart, your lips dangerously close to touching.
Until that very moment, Prince Keeho had been nothing more than that—a prince. You hadn’t even considered that beneath the crown and the vanity, there was a man there. But now with his eyes boring into yours and his scent clouding your thoughts, you couldn’t help but recognize him as such.
And it was no secret that the Choi family were renowned for their beauty, perhaps the one desirable quality about them, but hearing about it was one thing; having it mere inches away from you was another. You traced the line of his jaw up to the curve of his lips, and finally settled on his dark and heavy lidded eyes. He was unbelievably handsome, and for a terrifying second, you understood exactly why all the courtiers lost their minds over him.
Panic hit you like a bucket of ice cold water. What am I doing? You placed your hands on his chest—annoyingly firm warm muscle beneath—and shoved yourself away from him.
“I think that would be inappropriate, Your Highness.” You frantically looked around to make sure no wandering eyes had seen you.
The Prince didn’t seem fazed. He allowed you to step back but he didn’t hand the basket over yet. Instead, his gaze dropped. It traveled slowly down the length of your body, focusing on where your corset had accentuated your figure, then dragging back up to lock with your eyes. The look was heated and devoid of any shame.
“There are far more inappropriate things that I can think of,” he said, tone velvety and suggestive.
His bluntness stunned you. Your face flamed, brows furrowing in a mix of embarrassment and anger at his audacity.
“Give me that!” you snapped. You reached out and yanked the basket back from his grip with more force than necessary, clutching it tightly to your chest. You quickly sidestepped him, storming away with your heart hammering in your chest before he could do anything else.
“The throne room is the other way.”
You grit your teeth, pushing your legs to carry you faster and further away from him.
“I’ll see you later?” he spoke one last time, voice bright with amusement.
“If I don’t drown myself in the lake first.” you mumbled to yourself, stumbling your way through the door to escape him.
──────✦
That unfortunate encounter seemed to set the tone for the next few days. Because it didn’t matter how hard you tried to avoid him; he would always show up.
But luckily these days with the arrival of the new princess, the Choi family had started eating breakfast together, so you were relieved of those duties for now. But that didn’t stop him from crossing paths with you the rest of the day. In fact, it felt like the universe was playing a joke on you, constantly pushing you in his direction.
If you were on your way to deliver something, he would appear at the other end of the hall. If you were polishing the floor tiles, he would just so happen to be walking by in parts of the castle he had no business being in.
You caught yourself ducking behind statues and large banisters, or taking longer routes just to avoid being seen by him, but it wasn’t enough. He always caught on, acknowledging you with a wave or smirk that suggested he knew exactly what was going on.
One afternoon, you were tasked with dusting off a section of the library's books, and of course he was there.
He not so coincidentally was seated at the table directly behind where you stood, legs thrown up on the chair beside him. He was flipping through a book you’d seen him with the past week, but it was clear that he wasn’t doing any actual reading. Instead he was watching you work, making small comments just to get a rise out of you.
Your patience was wearing thinner and thinner by the minute, and it fully disappeared when you stretched high up on your tippy toes to reach for a book on the top shelf. Your fingers barely skimmed the spine as you groaned in frustration when you saw another hand come into view.
He easily grabbed the book, chest far too close to your back for your liking, and you whipped around to snatch it from his grasp.
“Does Your Highness not have any royal duties to attend to?” you sneered at him, exasperated.
He didn’t seem fazed by your tone. He just sat down, leaned back into the chair, and stared up at you with a playful glint in his eye. “I am not one to concern myself with objectives of the crown. Plus, you are far more interesting.”
You didn’t grant him the satisfaction of a response, choosing to simply return to your work with a huff.
The next day had gone similarly, except for the fact that you were assigned to serve tea to two visiting noblewomen in the courtyard. You were quite thankful for the task as it gave you a reprieve from the Prince’s antics.
You poured the tea silently, then stepped off to the side to remain accessible in case you were needed. You drowned out their conversations and complaints as you stood with your hands clasped in front of your skirt, fingers tightening when a certain name was mentioned.
“Have you heard the latest about the third Prince?”
Her friend leaned forward to whisper back, “Of course, and I have no doubt that the rumors are true. I heard he has quite the… appetite.”
They giggled helplessly together as you refrained from gagging at their triviality. “I heard he was just with the daughter of a French diplomat last week, and the stories of his stamina…” She stopped to fan herself. “He must be incredibly skilled to keep so many women interested.”
“He certainly has the looks for it, maybe we should give him a try one day.”
They continued laughing as they gossiped shamelessly about the details of his sex life. All you could do was stand by the wall, skirt clutched tightly in your fist, already feeling the headache coming on. You were annoyed and rightfully so. You had taken on the task specifically to get away from him and yet, here you were.
Even when not in your presence, he was inescapable.
──────✦
The day before the Crown Prince’s engagement party was chaotic, which worked well in your favor. The castle was bustling with activity, servants and maids alike scrambling to ensure everything was perfectly up to standard. You yourself spent the entire day in the grand ballroom, moving chairs and arranging tables until your arms burned. The work was exhausting and annoying, but it kept you far from his path.
By the time night fell and the castle quieted down, your body was begging for rest, but you had one final task to be completed.
You made your way to Keeho’s bed chambers for your nightly dismissal. Usually you dreaded this part, but tonight you were too tired to care.
As you entered you found him sitting by the windows with the same book he had been reading, dressed in a silk robe. When you stepped fully into the room, he looked up and that familiar, charming smile lit up his face. It seemed like he had been waiting for this moment the whole day.
“You’re a bit late,” he noted, though there was no malice in his voice, only wonder.
“The ballroom required extra attention, Your Grace,” you replied blankly, keeping your hands clasped firmly in front of you. “Is there anything else you require from me, or may I be excused?”
He closed his book to give you his full undivided attention. “Actually, yes. Can you prepare my bath?”
You suppressed a sigh, detesting the question in his voice as if you had a choice. “Of course.”
You headed into the connected bathroom, luckily already finding the tub filled with water. You reached for the assortment of glass jars on the shelf in the corner and sprinkled in a handful of different herbs and treatments, swirling the water with your hand until the scent filled the room.
You were lost in thought so you didn't hear his footsteps approaching you until he spoke. “Is it ready?”
“Just about,” you replied without turning, standing to wipe your hands on your apron.
When you did turn to tell him the temperature was set, the words died in your throat.
Because there he was standing a few feet away and before you could even blink, he shrugged his shoulders and the silk robe slid off his body, pooling gently on the floor.
Your eyes widened and for a split second your gaze dropped low before you tore it away within a heartbeat. You whipped your face around until your back was to him again, eyes fixed firmly ahead of you. An involuntary heat rushed to your face, burning your cheeks.
You sensed him stepping closer until he was stood right behind you and you froze, heart hammering loudly in your ears.
Slowly and with utter care, he brushed his knuckles against your arm. The touch was so light, you barely felt it, but it sent a spark of electricity through your body all the same.
He leaned down, breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Thank you.”
The whisper felt too intimate, too profound. You didn't trust yourself to speak so you remained motionless as you took deep breaths to calm your racing heart.
He rounded you to continue his way to the bath.
Something in you snapped—you refused to let him win this petty game to make you embarrassed and flustered.
You grinded your teeth and forced your eyes on him as you wore a mask of indifference, and although it was difficult, you held yourself together. You’d rather die than give him the satisfaction of seeing you admire him.
He caught your stare and paused for a second, one leg plunging into the water as he held eye contact. You suddenly found it harder to breathe.
He slowly sank into the water, eyes never leaving yours for a second. He watched you watch him, a challenging look present in his sharp stare.
You held your ground, chin raised high, proving to him that you were not affected, a lie you tried to convince yourself of as well.
The silence stretched and the only other sound present was the swooshing of the water settling around him.
Finally, he sighed and tilted his head back against the rim of the bath tub, a lazy, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“You’re dismissed.”
You spun on your heel without a second thought. “Goodnight, Your Highness.”
You walked out the bathroom directly to the bedroom door, keeping your pace steady until you slipped out the room and into the hallway.
The moment the door shut you let out the breath you’d been holding. You pressed your back to the cool stone of the wall, holding yourself against it afraid that your legs would give out. You shut your eyes tightly as the scene replayed in your head, your heart still racing rapidly in your chest.
From back inside the room, Keeho sank lower into the hot water until it pooled around his collar bones, a lopsided smile on his lips as he replayed the last few minutes in his head.
God, she was cute.
He could still see the crimson flush that had spread across your cheeks so vividly in his mind, completely contradicting the professional mask you so desperately were trying to wear. He had to admit, he did admire the control you had exercised, not even letting your eyes wander once.
But oh how he wanted you to break. He wanted so badly for you to give in to the urge, give in to him, and finally want him the way he wanted you.
But you were stubborn and clearly terrified of breaking your composure. It was adorable.
He grabbed a sponge, lazily squeezing the soapy water over his chest, as he contemplated the situation further in his head.
The grin he wore slowly faded into a frown as he watched the water sway below him. He couldn’t deny the sharp sting that situated itself deep in his chest; it had been bothering him all week. It was clear that you were avoiding him with a determination that was quite frankly insulting.
And he knew he was being unreasonable—of course he knew. He was a prince, you were a maid. His behaviour was completely inappropriate and borderline pushy. He was behaving like a spoiled child who demanded attention as he begged for any reaction from you.
But that was exactly it—he loved your reactions.
He loved the genuine annoyance on your face. He loved how you always challenged him. You scoffed at his status and rolled your eyes at his charm. The tense spark between you ignited something in him that he hasn't felt in years.
He brought up a cup full of water to smooth over his face when the realization hit him.
He hadn’t touched a woman that wasn’t you since he saw you in the courtyard that fateful morning.
The opportunities had surely been there. There were plenty of ladies visiting for the wedding festivities taking place, batting their eyelashes and giggling a little too loudly in his direction. And a week ago, he would have indulged without a second thought, if not for anything but to pass the time.
But now? All those prior thoughts left him. Anytime someone would even attempt to catch his eye, all that his mind would zero in on was you. He found himself comparing them to you, seeking out your sharp tongue and the fire in your eyes.
He groaned, tilting his head back to rest against the rim of the tub, staring blankly at the ceiling.
Is this what celibacy was doing to me?
Or could it be his bruised ego? Was he so used to not being rejected that the one time a woman didn't want him, she became the only thing he wanted? It was a pathetic thought, that he only wanted you because he couldn’t have you.
Or could it be something else.
He recalled the spike of his own pulse as he stood behind you wearing nothing but his confidence. Was his heart racing from the thrill of the game or the proximity of your warmth? Then he thought about the idea of you never serving him again and—no. No, he didn’t want to think about that.
The familiar sting grew heavier in his chest.
──────✦
Finally, the morning of the engagement had arrived with a cruel air of irony. The rest of the castle buzzed with anticipation for the event while your world came to a standstill.
The letter felt heavier than anything you’d ever held in your life. The paper crinkled in your tightly fisted grasp as you looked down at the familiar but shaky handwriting—your mother’s. The words blurred in your eyes as they filled with tears at the message: Father is very ill… fever not breaking… will send word if your return is necessary.
The air left your lungs at once. You sat at the edge of your narrow cot in the servants quarters, the sounds of all the maids getting ready for the day clouding your ears.
The thought of having to face Prince Keeho and serve him his breakfast while dodging his advances was physically nauseating atop the harrowing news. You simply couldn’t do it.
You sought out a younger maid, pleading with her to take on your responsibilities just for the morning so you had time to pull yourself together.
It didn’t take much for her to agree, surely due to your distraught appearance.
You spent the rest of the morning and afternoon feeling like a ghost wandering with no purpose, finding busy work that would keep you out of the public eye for a while.
When the younger maid returned, she made sure to let you know how disappointed the prince had been to see her instead of you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care not even for a second. The fear for your father overtook everything else.
By evening, there was no place left to hide. The engagement ball had begun and all hands were needed.
You washed your face with cold water, patting it lightly to bring some life back into your paled complexion. You changed into the formal uniform required for the night—a stiff, high collared dress that was far too tight for comfort.
You made your way to the grand ballroom and stumbled through the wide open doors to see the celebration in full swing. You wasted no time, grabbing a silver tray of red wine and you began to make your rounds.
You moved without soul, mechanically following the steps of offer, bow, repeat. Your eyes were glazed over, always looking just past the shoulder of the courtiers you were serving, your mind a million miles away.
“There you are.”
You froze, grip tightening on the tray in your grasp.
You turned around to find Prince Keeho standing before you. He looked exceptionally royal tonight, outfit tailored to perfection and hair swept back perfectly. For a moment, his eyes lit up as they swept over you.
“I’ve been looking for you all day,” he says, a smooth, teasing cadence to his voice. He takes a step closer, disregarding the crowded room full of eyes around him. “You look lovely. That dress… it suits you far better than—”
He reached for a glass of wine and looked at you directly now for the first time since approaching and his smile faltered.
Up close, he could see the unmistakable red rimming your eyes and the dark circles of exhaustion bruising the skin beneath them. You looked fragile, one step away from crumbling.
The playfulness vanished from his expression instantly, replaced by narrowed eyes of genuine concern. He lowered the glass, stepping even further into your space, trying to shield you from the crowd.
“Hey,” he said softly, voice lowering to a volume only you could hear. “You look… exhausted. Is everything alright?”
His kindness gave you whiplash and you felt seconds away from breaking down. The lump rose in your throat and you knew if you tried to say too much you might cry, and you could not cry in the middle of the royal engagement.
You took a step back, curtseying as well as you could with the tray to avoid his eyes. “I apologize, Your Highness, for not being able to attend to my morning duties,” your voice was lifeless, devoid of emotion. “If you’ll excuse me, I must continue to serve the drinks.”
You didn’t wait for him to say anything more. You turned to walk away and he watched you go.
He was frozen amidst all the dancers, his hand raised in the air as if he were reaching towards you. His heart dropped to his stomach at the sight of you so crestfallen and the sting of your refusal to confide in him hurt more than he expected. But seeing the raw pain you were trying to conceal hurt even more.
──────✦
You continued weaving throughout the crowd of laughing nobles, your arms aching with a dull, persistent throb from the weight of the tray in your hands.
Despite the crowd, you could feel him.
Prince Keeho’s gaze was heavy as it rested upon you, burning into your side profile. His stare was so intense it made your skin prickle as you tried to push away the memory of his earlier concern. You did what you did best; ignore.
That is until a loud sound cut through the crowd and music. A laugh, his laugh.
It’s loud and rich and more genuine than anything else you've heard from him. Your instinct betrays you and you dare a peak at him before you can stop yourself.
He was standing with the youngest Prince Jongseob and the star of the event, the Princess betrothed to the crown prince. She was radiant in her ballgown and effortlessly beautiful in the face. She said something that made him grin and he leaned even closer, his lips right by her ear as he spoke. She looked delighted, her eyes sparkling as she peered up at him and for a second, he looked entirely captivated too.
Your body felt like it was caving in on itself, a sickening swoop of your heart that didn’t make sense. Why were you feeling this way over a man you’d been pushing away? A twisted wave of jealousy rose in your chest, only adding to your exhaustion.
Confused by your feelings and slightly hurt from the scene, you turn sharply, desperately trying to put distance between you and him. In your rage, you didn't see the noblewoman stepping backward into your path.
The collision was hard and sudden and the tray tipped over in your arms.
Time seemed to slow down as the three remaining glasses full of red wine crashed against the woman’s gown before shattering on the floor, immediately followed by the woman’s high pitched shriek that silenced the nearby tables.
“You clumsy fool!”
The noblewoman spun around, her face twisted into a mask of fury as she looked down at the deep stains that ruined the front of her no doubt expensive dress.
“I—I am so sorry, My Lady,” you stammered, heart hammering anxiously in your chest. You dropped to your knees, disregarding the shards of glass, your hands shaking violently as you reached for the broken stems. “I didn’t see you, I—”
“Clearly!” She screeched, her voice echoing in the suddenly quiet room. All eyes were on you now and you wished you could return to when only Prince Keeho’s were. “Look at this mess! This silk is custom! Now it is ruined because you are too incompetent to walk in a straight line!”
“I’m so sorry, I will fetch water, I’ll—”
“No! Don’t you dare touch me with those filthy hands!” she snapped, stepping back as if you were carrying a contagious disease. “You belong in the stables, not the ballroom. Who is in charge of you? How could they let such a dimwitted, clumsy, irresponsible girl serve in this court?”
The berating insults continued, each one pushing the knife of embarrassment deeper and deeper into you. You kept your head bowed, eyes never leaving the pool of wine flowing freely on the marble floor. Your vision blurred as hot tears started streaming down your cheeks.
“Useless,” the woman hissed, shaking out her skirts. “Absolutely useless. I would expect to be sent back to whatever poor village you come from by tomorrow.”
With a final scoff, she stormed away, leaving you still kneeling helplessly.
The whispers flowed through the crowd, judging and scolding. You couldn’t breathe. The walls of the ballroom felt like they were rapidly closing in. You couldn’t stay there. You couldn’t clean it up.
With a choked sob, you abandoned the shattered glass and scrambled to your feet. You turned and ran, fleeing the ballroom with a ducked head, shame burning you into despair.
From across the room, a white hot anger flared in Keeho’s chest. He quickly excused himself from the company of the Princess without a second glance to follow you out the large ballroom doors.
He saw you moving quickly down the hall, head ducked low. He called your name, his long legs quickly lessening the distance between you.
You didn’t slow down, if anything, you walked faster to escape him seeing you in that state.
“Stop,” he huffed, finally catching up to you. He reached a hand out, his fingers curling around your upper arm to halt your movements. “I said wait.”
You spun around so quickly he stumbled back. “What?” you spat.
The venom in your voice took him back. He looked down at your pretty face and felt the air leave his lungs at your distraught state. He had never seen your eyes so wild, ablaze with a fury he didn't know you possessed.
He loosened his grip on your arm, voice softening instantly. “I… I just wanted to make sure you were okay. That god awful woman, she was out of line, I was going to—”
You cut him off with a laugh followed by a broken sob. “You wanted to make sure I’m okay?”
You jerked your arm out of his grip, stepping back from him.
It was then that he caught sight of the blood dripping from your fingertips, a dark and steady stream that splattered against the floor. The broken glass must have sliced your palm, but amidst the adrenaline and shame, you hadn’t even felt it.
The prince’s expression crumbled, any anger within him vanishing, replaced by a look of sheer heartbreak. He reached out for your hand again but you only moved back in response.
“Please let me help you,” he whispered. “You’re bleeding.”
You looked down, seeing the jagged gash across your palm for the first time. The sting and throbbing pain finally registered, minimal compared to the pain in your heart.
You closed your palm into a tight fist, squeezing the wound and ignoring the fresh sting and blood that welled between your knuckles.
“So what, you actually care about me now?” You wiped aggressively at your wet cheeks with your clean hand, smearing the hot tears. “Or are you just doing this so I can finally sleep with you? Are you trying to play the role of a heroic prince who swoops in, comforts the crying maid, and gets her into his bed as a reward? Well unluckily for you I don’t need your pity.”
He stared at you, mouth agape in shock, the accusation a slap in the face. “What? No I—”
“Stop it!” You shouted, voice cracking. “Just stop pretending! You don’t care! You’re arrogant and infuriating and you don’t know anything!”
He was stunned into silence. No one—maid, noble, or royal—had ever spoken to him like that. But you were only getting started as you let go of everything that you had been holding in, words tumbling out hysterically.
“This is all just a game to you isn’t it?” You gestured widely between you two. “You’re a prince. You have everything you could ever want! You get bored so you find a new toy to play with. But I. Am not. A toy. I am here to work! I have a job to do because unlike you, I actually need the money!”
The prince wanted to speak, he wanted to defend himself, but you overpowered him for the first time.
“You follow me around, you flirt, you draw unnecessary attention to me and you make my life ten times harder than it already is! And for what? For your ego?” Your whole body was shaking now. “I am trying to support my family! I am trying to keep a roof over their heads!”
You gasped for air, a multitude of sobs escaping you.
“My father is dying!” you screamed, the words tearing from you before you could think twice. “He is sick and he might be dying right now and I can’t be there because I have to be here! Serving drinks and getting screamed at and degraded and dealing with you treating me like a conquest.”
The hallway went dead silent as he stood paralyzed at your outburst. His pulse hammered in his ears as he scrambled for anything words that would soothe you, but there were none.
“I…” he started, voice hollow. “I didn’t know.”
“Of course you didn’t know, you’re too selfish to,” you whispered, the anger dissolving into a deep exhaustion. You turned away, casting your eyes downward. “Please. Just… just leave me alone. Please.”
You walked away and he didn’t stop you. All he could do was stand there as you travelled further down the hallway, the weight of his selfishness crushing his soul. You turned and disappeared around a corner, and the silence you left behind was deafening.
──────✦
The days that followed the engagement ball were suffocating.
Every time you entered Prince Keeho’s chambers, you were practically a nervous wreck. You fully expected to be dismissed or told that your employment had been terminated due to your insolence. You had not only “disrespected” a noble woman, you had screamed at a prince. You’ve heard stories of things that happened to servants for doing much less.
But the punishment never came. You also caught word from a maid that the noblewoman you had spilled the wine over left the castle in a hurry for some “urgent business”, despite the fact that she was to remain until the wedding. Strange indeed.
Although all was technically good and well, the cold tension between the prince and you had you on the edge of your toes.
“Your breakfast, Your Highness,” you murmured, placing the tray on the table. You kept your eyes carefully lowered, movements stiff, the bright white bandage on your hand a constant reminder of what had happened that night.
Keeho was sitting by the window, already dressed and ready for the day. You waited for him to make an offhand comment about your appearance, or at least try to catch your eye.
“Thank you, that will be all.” is all he said without looking up from the book in his lap.
You hesitated to leave the room, unsettled by the lack of… him. You didn’t recognize the man before you, but you could only nod quickly, curtsy, and back out of the room.
He carried the same tone no matter where or how you saw him. He was polite—painfully so. He even said please and thank you, even stepped out of your way in the corridors, and never held your eye for longer than necessary.
It was exactly what you wanted, what you had begged for. You were still safe, your job secured. By the fifth day you should have felt relieved, but instead, you only felt hollow.
Keeho watched as he dismissed you without feeling for the fifth day in a row. He stared at the tray you had left in distaste, his appetite gone.
He recalled the wince in your face as you set it down after holding its weight in your injured hand and the memory made his stomach twist.
For the first time in his life, he couldn’t stand to even look at himself. He had truly thought he was being charming, that it was a fun courtship, a game of cat and mouse where the prize was simply your attention. He hadn’t realized that for you, it wasn’t a game at all.
The power imbalance was blind to him.
Your words echoed in his head. Privileged, spoiled. And you were right.
He watched you from the window as you crossed the grounds with a basket held in your good hand. A deep sadness overtook him. He realized, with a terrifying jolt, that what he wanted wasn’t just you in his bed. The thought seemed so trivial now compared to the desire to see you smile, or to hear you laugh, or to see your eyes light up and—
He liked you. He liked your fire, your bite, the way you stood up for yourself against him. He liked how clearly loyal you were to your family. He liked how despite being fearful of repercussions from him, you still showed up.
He wanted to fix the situation desperately. He wanted to help you. He wanted to do what he could to ensure that he would never have to see you with anything less than a smile. He wanted to spoil you rotten and cover you in the finest silks and make sure that you’d never have to scrub a floor again.
You disappeared into a building and he clenched the windowsill until his knuckles turned white.
He didn't know how to move forward. He could continue on how he was but just the thought alone made him feel sorrowful. What he knew for sure was that he didn't want to hurt you more. But he had no idea how to be the man you deserved.
──────✦
He realized pretty quickly how dull life felt without your presence.
The silence in his chambers during breakfast and the lack of sarcastic retorts left him deeply dejected.
Was he being dramatic? Maybe; what prince wasn’t? He’d only known you for a little more than a month, but that month alone was enough to make him forget the time before you’d arrived at the castle.
Before you arrived, his days were a blur of over indulgence and boredom—sleeping till the afternoon, filling his time with distractions, not making use of, well, anything. Now, looking back, he couldn’t even remember what he did to occupy his time. It all seemed so dull compared to the energy you brought into his world.
He roamed throughout the grounds, sulking with his head down and kicking at a loose pebble on his path. From the corner of his eyes he spotted his younger sister seated at a table beneath a pretty orange tree, reading a book and sipping tea. Her guard was stood not far, a boy he faintly recognized from years ago, and he nodded at him as he approached.
The Prince didn’t even greet her. He merely stalked over to her, a dark cloud hanging over his head, and snatched the teacup from where she had just set it down.
“Hey!” She cried out, startled as tea sloshed over the rim. “I didn’t say you could have some!”
He ignored her completely, bringing the fine china up to his lips and taking a large gulp of it.
The regret was instant.
Keeho sputtered, coughing violently as the floral taste assaulted his tongue. “Ugh! What is that?”
“I told you,” she said, watching him choke with zero sympathy. She tugged the cup back from his hand. ‘It’s lavender. You hate lavender.”
“It tastes like soap,” he wheezed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He exhaled a dramatic huff and collapsed into the chair opposite her, crossing his hands over his chest.
She observed his uncharacteristic behaviour, questioning where the sudden switchup from his regular effervescence came from. The silence stretched between them as she watched him, the only sound heard being the chirping of birds that Keeho found incredibly annoying today.
“Why do you look like that?” she finally asked, voice flat.
Keeho frowned, staring at the grass beneath his feet. “Like what?”
“I don’t know,” she said, tilting her head. “Uglier than usual.”
Keeho whipped his head around to glare at her. “Watch it.”
She laughed, the sound light and airy, before setting her book down. “No seriously. What is wrong with you?” Her expression hardened slightly as she took in the dark circles under his eyes and the new crease between his brow. “You’ve been moping around the castle for days now like a ghost. And don’t think I didn’t notice you hanging around with Taeyang more recently. That’s never a good sign.”
Keeho pouted for a moment, looking away with a grumble. He had occupied his time with hovering over his older brother as he attended to wedding preparations, a welcome distraction from his grievances with you. The temporary reprieve was actually nice and he would never admit it but he missed Taeyang, who these days, was always too busy to pay any of his siblings much mind.
He picked at a loose thread on his trousers as he debated on telling the truth.
“I think I’m sick…”
She leaned back in her chair at the response, scrunching her nose in disgust. “With what? Don’t breathe on me.”
“My chest feels heavy,” he complained, rubbing his stomach where the guilt had been building. “I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. My mind is on overdrive; I just wish it would turn off. I can’t stop thinking about her.”
He trailed off, looking more miserable than she’s ever seen him. Still, she couldn’t help the knowing smile that tugged at her lips as the realization hit her.
“Ahh, her.“ she said softly, nodding in understanding. “I see. You have a severe case of being in love.”
Keeho opened his mouth to protest but the words quickly died in his throat. He didn’t admit it out loud, but the lack of a denial told her all she needed to know.
“Well,” she spoke, leaning forward, intrigue sparking in her eye. “Who is it then? Which Lady has finally tamed the beast?”
“How many times are you going to insult me?” His question went unanswered as he pressed his lips tightly together. He couldn’t tell her.
If he said it was a maid—his maid—the scandal would spread like a wildfire. He couldn’t put a target on your back, not when you were already dealing with so much.
“I can’t say.”
She studied him for a long while, but surprisingly, didn’t pry. She only hummed thoughtfully.
“Well, she must be pretty special if she was able to break you out of ‘your ways’,” she said while gesturing with a waving hand at him. “It’s about time.”
Keeho shot her a nasty side-eye. “Does everyone just think I’m a whore?”
“Well…” She trailed, blinking slowly. “Yes.”
Keeho groaned, burying his face in his hands.
His sister stood up, smoothing her skirt down as she rounded the table and paused beside him. She lifted a hand atop his head and patted it awkwardly, as if she were comforting a sad puppy.
“You feel like this because you care, Brother,” she remarked, her voice gentle and kind. “Which is good. It means you’re human after all.” She ignored the eyebrow he raised. “I don’t know what happened between you two, but… do what you can to fix it. I’ve never seen you like this.”
She gave his hair one last ruffle before picking up her book.
“By the way, this novel you recommended is extremely beautiful. I didn’t know you were such a romantic.” she added over her shoulder as she walked away, leaving Keeho alone in the garden with the terrible realization that she was right. He had to fix it.
──────✦
After the conversation with his sister, Keeho figured he’d try just for a little while longer to maintain the distance, if only to clear his head.
But a few days later—filled with the same cautious interactions— he spotted you with another servant, one he recognized to be a baker. She was crouched down picking what looked like strawberries as you paced beside her, arms animated as you ranted about something, probably him.
He watched you closely as the baker said something clearly unexpected because your face transformed from fierce and angry to bright as a blush erupted on your cheeks. You ducked your head, smiling wide, and playfully shoved the baker's shoulder.
He was almost certain at that moment that the clouds overhead parted to cast a sea of sun rays down to illuminate your smile—yeah he definitely must have imagined that.
He leaned back against the nearest wall, hand rising to clutch at his chest. Seeing you smile like that so freely and happily without the weight of your grievances made him feel unbearably weak. It was a beauty he yearned to see up close, but one he knew he didn’t deserve.
He needed to get away, the castle grounds felt too suffocating even outside in the fresh air, his sense all clouded by you.
He headed straight to the stables as he usually did when he needed a break from life at court. Riding had always been his escape, the one thing that had always calmed him and his mind no matter what.
He saddled his favorite horse, a white Arabian, and climbed on as she took off into a gallop across the fields, the sharp winds nipping at his eyes until tears formed.
But even miles away from the castle, all he could think about was you. He couldn’t even use his greatest escape to escape you.
Defeated, he returned to the stables as the sun began to set. He handed the reins to a stable hand and headed back towards the main castle entrance, dusting his glove off on his thigh.
He almost groaned in frustration when he casted his eyes up and they landed on you, until he took in the situation at hand.
You were standing next to a large pillar, cornered by a visiting noble. As Keeho squinted to see you better, he recognized the man to be a baron or something of the sort, a lord invited for the Crown Prince’s wedding.
Keeho slowed his pace, brow furrowing in confusion
You looked stiff. Your hands were curled into tight fists as you said something brief, then curtseyed, clearly trying to dismiss yourself. You turned to walk away and the noble stepped forward and grabbed your arm, hauling you back to him.
Keeho’s whole body tensed.
He watched as the man backed you into the rough stone wall, his whole body blocking yours from escaping. He could see the distress on your face from where he stood as your eyes darted around for help.
The fatigue of his depression vanished, replaced by a fury he hasn't channeled in years. He strode towards you quickly, eyes ablaze with determination.
When he called out your name both yours and the noble man's heads turned. For the first time while looking at him, your face flooded with relief though tainted by the slightest fear.
He stopped steps away from you both as he stretched himself to his full height, his lethal gaze set hardly on the man.
“You were supposed to be at my chambers an hour ago,” he lied smoothly, tone rigid and icy as he flicked his eyes to you for a brief second.
The noble blinked stupidly, caught off guard by the Prince’s demeanor. His mouth gaped open like a fish out of water as he looked between the two of you. “Your Grace, I was merely—”
“I don’t care,” Keeho interrupted. He looked at the man with obvious disgust, then lowered his gaze sharply to where the man was still gripping your forearm.
He didn't have to say anything for the noble to gather what he was thinking, the threat loud and clear; if you don't let go of her now, I will cut off your hand.
His face visibly paled as he released you and stepped back as he straightened his jacket with trembling hands.
“My apologies Prince Keeho,” he stammered, bowing his head in an act of barely-there respect. “I… I have business to attend to. Excuse me.”
He turned and hurried away, his loud, quick footsteps echoing down the cobblestone. Keeho watched as he went with a clenched jaw, already drafting the order to have the man’s invitation revoked in his head and his carriage escorted off the grounds by nightfall. He would ensure he never stepped within ten feet of you again.
You stared at Keeho as he watched until the man disappeared back into the castle, your chest rising and falling rapidly.
“I…” You swallowed hard, then bowed your head deeply. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. I wasn’t aware I was to meet you.”
Finally, Keeho turned fully towards you, the cold expression melting off his face instantly as he shook his head.
“Don’t apologize,” He said softly. “You weren’t supposed to. I just said that so he’d leave.”
You straightened your spine, blinking in surprise.
“I could tell he was making you uncomfortable,” he said while his eyes searched your body for any sign of injury, lingering on your arm where the sleazy man had gripped it.
You instinctively smoothed your hand over the slightly sore spot as you hesitated to answer. After your heated exchange—the screaming, the blood, the tears—you expected him to be angry, or at least indifferent. But instead he looked… worried. Incredibly so.
“Yes,” you managed to say eventually, the adrenaline fading and leaving you shaky. “Thank you. For helping me.”
Keeho offered you a smile, far from the usual smirk or arrogant grin he usually wore. This one was small, gentle, and strangely sad.
“Good,” He nodded once, respectfully. “I’ll be going now.”
He didn’t try to keep you there longer, didn’t make a joke. He didn’t ask for anything in return. He simply turned and walked away towards the west wing, hands tucked into his pockets.
You stood there, watching his broad back retreat across the grounds, and for the first time in weeks you felt the tight knot in your stomach unravel. In place of it, a strange warm feeling began to bubble, and it scared you more than anything else.
──────✦
The letter crumbled in your tight, shaking fists as the ink blurred in your teary eyes. You recognized your mothers familiar handwriting, though it was messy and slightly smudged, you barely made out the words.
A healer bearing the seal of the crown… Rare medicines I’ve never heard of… The fever broke…Your father is sitting up and eating… Should make a full recovery.
The relief that washed over you was so powerful it nearly made you collapse in the servants quarters. But as the initial joy subsided, a sudden realization hit you. Royal physicians didn’t just wander into commoner villages. Miracles like that just don’t happen.
There was only one person that knew of your fathers condition that had the power to send one.
It was well after hours but that didn’t stop you from taking off into a run for Keeho’s bedchambers. Your breaths flew out in short, sudden gasps as you reached his heavy oak door and you knocked, not waiting for permission as you pushed it open.
He was sat at his desk, reviewing a thick stack of parchment when he looked up, startled, his quill hovering over the paper.
“I didn’t summon for you,” he said, voice laced with confusion as he took in your disheveled appearance and heaving chest.
“I know,” you breathed out, stepping further into the room and closing the door. The letter was still clutched in your palm. “I know, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for barging in, and … and I’m sorry for speaking out of turn at the ball.”
Keeho stood up slowly at the confession as he set the quill down. He made his way towards you, hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers, expression unreadable but devoid of the anger you had been fearing.
“You don’t have to apologize," he started quietly, shaking his head. “You were right about everything you said that night. I… deserved it.”
“No! No, I was wrong. I—I called you selfish but, no selfish man would do what you did,” you insisted, tears pricking at your eyes again as you held the letter up for him to see. “I know it was you that sent the healer for my father. Because of you, he’s going to live.” Your voice cracked and trembled at the declaration.
Keeho didn’t say anything, he just watched you, fighting the urge to take you into his arms and swipe the tears away from your cheeks.
Overwhelmed by the weight of what he had done, you dropped to your knees before him, looking up at him with a deep gratitude.
“Thank you,” you choked out as his eyes widened at the display. “Thank you so much. I promise I will pay you back. I’ll work every day, I’ll do anything you ask, I swear by it—”
Keeho looked down at you ashamed as his mind betrayed him for a fraction of a second. The sight of you on your knees at his feet, looking up at him with such a raw, desperate devotion, sent a jolt of heat that pooled low in his stomach. A dark, possessive thought flashed through his brain as he imagined you in this position for an entirely different reason.
Stop it! He cursed himself violently; no wonder you couldn’t stand him before. He shook away the perverted thoughts as panic and guilt flooded his emotions. He quickly reached down, grabbing your elbows to haul you up from the floor.
“Stop,” he said, cheeks slightly flushed from his previous thoughts. “Get up. Please, get up.”
He pulled you to stand, his grip firm on your arms. Suddenly you were chest to chest, the space between you thick and heavy. He was breathing slightly harder now, fighting his own instincts, while you stared up at him with wide, watery eyes.
Neither of you moved. You could feel the warmth of his hands through your sleeves. Then, realizing that he was touching you, he stepped back, creating a large enough distance to where he could think clearly.
“I didn’t do it to hold it over you,” He said quickly, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want your money, and I don’t want you to feel indebted to me.’
“Then why?” you asked, your brow furrowing in genuine confusion. “Why would you do something like that for me?”
You still couldn’t see it. You couldn’t comprehend that his flirting, teasing, even his cold distance over the last week, were all symptoms of a man who hopelessly needed you and who was terrified of making a mistake.
You simply thought he grew bored of the chase, not finding you worth the effort.
Keeho stared helplessly at you, his heart on fire. He couldn’t tell you the truth. He couldn’t tell you that he was falling for you because that would only scare you away.
“Because…” he murmured, eyes dropping to the floor before meeting yours again. “I just… I realized how wrongly I’d been treating you. And I don’t want to see you hurt anymore.”
You wanted desperately to repeat the words back to him: Why? Why do you care if I’m hurt or not? But he spoke again before you could.
“I’m glad he’s okay,” he said with a ghost of a smile. “Truly.”
You bit your lip, processing this unfamiliar side of him. It was kind and terrifyingly gentle.
“So,” you whispered, breaking the silence. “You would do it for anyone?”
The answer he should have given you was yes. It was on the tip of his tongue, but the truth slipped out instead.
“No,” he said, voice low and intense. “I wouldn't."
The admission hung in the air and your eyes widened, not sure what to make of it. Keeho looked just as shocked as you felt, his jaw tightening when he realized he’d said too much.
The tension was becoming unbearable. You didn’t know how to respond so you stepped back slowly towards the door, planning on making your exit.
“I… thank you again,” you stammered, dipping into a quick and formal curtsy. “I should let you return to your work.”
You turned to leave, your hand grazing the door when he called out.
“Wait!”
You paused with a deep breath, palms suddenly slick with sweat as you turned to face him again. He hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, looking uncharacteristically nervous.
“I was thinking,” he started, clearing his throat. “I would love it if… if we could just start over. That is, if you would like to, of course.”
“Start over?”
“Yes. A clean slate. You can forget I was an arrogant, selfish prick, and I’ll forget you ever shouted at me.”
A light embarrassed blush dusted your cheeks at the memory, but the heaviness in your chest felt lighter at his words. “I think I can manage that.”
“Good,” Keeho mused, eyes brightening. “But on one condition.”
You straightened your posture. “Yes, Your Grace?”
He winced at the title. “Don’t call me that. Or Your Highness, or Prince. Just call me Keeho.”
Your eyes widened, bewildered at the request, your smile faltering. “I… I can’t do that!”
“Why not?”
“Well it’s improper of course,” you explained, looking at him like he was crazy. “If anyone heard me calling you by your name, I’d be fired on the spot.”
Keeho frowned, realizing you were right. He couldn’t risk your livelihood just because he desired the intimacy. He drummed his fingers against his thigh, thinking deeply.
“Fine,” he conceded. “Then when we’re alone. When it’s just us… you can call me Keeho.”
You looked conflicted, biting the inside of your cheek as you weighed the request. You were trying to calculate how often he planned on being alone with you for this to even be considered as a rule. It felt dangerous, like you were crossing a line.
Seeing your hesitation, Keeho stepped forward. He held his chin high, shoulders pushed back, his playful expression vanishing into a mask of authority.
“As your Prince,” he started, voice deep and commanding. “I command you to call me Keeho when we are alone.”
A shiver raked through your body at the power in his voice, the entirety of his focus on you. The complete shift in his attitude was impressive. For a Prince that didn’t value his status, he sure knew how to use it.
You pretended to consider it, feeling the flush deepen down your neck. “Well… I guess I can’t go against the word of a Prince.”
The sternness on his face broke instantly, replaced by a radiant smile that made your knees feel wobbly. “So you agree?”
“Yes, Your Highn—” You caught yourself, seeing his eyebrows raise in warning. With a deep breath, you cleared your throat and tested the new word in your mouth. “...Keeho. Yes, Keeho.”
He could have died a happy man right then and there. The sound of his name falling from your lips was more heavenly than any harp he’s heard. Sweeter and more indulgent than the best desserts he’s had. It was intimate and forbidden, and he wanted to hear it over and over and over again.
A rush of dopamine hit him so hard he felt dizzy as he beamed foolishly at you, an unguarded and joyful flash of his perfectly straight teeth that made your heart skip.
You had to suppress the giddy bubble of laughter that threatened to escape you at his reaction as you looked down, suddenly unable to meet his intense gaze.
“Say it again,” he whispered, almost greedily.
You couldn’t hold it back any longer as the airy laugh escaped you and you spoke his name again, softer that time. “Keeho.”
The flutter of your lashes as you peeked back up at him almost sent him reeling. You genuinely had no idea the control you had over him and somehow that made it better.
A shy, fluttering warmth attacked your stomach as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, unable to stop the permanent smile that had etched itself onto your face.
“I should get going.” You muttered, your voice barely above a whisper, though you didn’t move from your place. “It’s pretty late.”
He didn’t say anything, because if he did, you surely wouldn’t be leaving his room, but it was far too soon for that. He vowed he would take things slow in that moment, promising to himself that he would never hurt you or make you misunderstand his intentions again.
Finally, you took a step back toward the door, then paused, glancing up at him one last time, committing the sight to memory.
“Goodnight… Keeho.”
He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his heart pumping so fast he could hear it in his ears. He sat back against his desk, savoring you, looking completely and utterly lovesick.
“Goodnight,” he breathed back.
He stood there for a long time after you closed the door, staring at where you once stood with the ghost of his name still echoing in the room. A euphoric buzz hummed under his skin, and it kept him awake until dawn.
──────✦
You barely slept. His name replayed again and again in your mind until you were able to fall asleep, except you woke up again before the sun had even come up, fueled by a strange, nervous energy.
Everything was so unexpected. You had never imagined that you’d be cordial with Keeho, let alone be on a first name basis with him. He was so unsuspecting—so full of surprises. It made you feel off balance and you couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing, but for the first time, you were actually looking forward to seeing him.
You get dressed with extra care, making sure your corset was done up properly and there were no loose threads from your dress.
But the anticipation quickly dwindled before you could even make your way to the kitchen.
“Prince Keeho won’t be requiring your service this morning,” The head housekeeper announced, not even looking up from her ledger.
You froze, blinking at her stupidly. “Oh.”
“Tidy up the tea room instead.”
You walked away trying to mask the disappointment on your face.
You hated it.
Hated how the castle suddenly felt empty without his obnoxious presence. You hated that you had spent the whole morning preparing what you would say to him. Hated how you were feeling anything in conjunction to him at all.
By midday, you couldn’t take the assault of thoughts any longer as you made your way down to the bakery for some reprieve.
Your friend was situated at her station icing a cake with a careful hand.
You hopped up on the counter next to her—a habit from childhood—and sighed as she cast a quick glance at you.
“Why do you look like a sad puppy?”
You told her everything. The letter from your mother, the healer, the confrontation in his bedchambers, the apology. You spilled it all and by the time you finished, she had stopped decorating entirely to stare at you, her lips parted in surprise.
“He sent a royal healer?” She whispered, eyes wide. “To our village? Do you have any idea how crazy that is?”
“I know. I asked him why, but he just said he didn’t want to see me hurt. And that’s when he asked to… start over.”
“Start over,” she repeated slowly.
“Yeah…” you mumbled, picking at a thread you had missed earlier. “I just don’t understand why he’s doing all this! A week ago he was teasing me for fun, now he’s saving my father’s life? Maybe he’s just… bored? Or maybe he really does feel guilty for the way we’re treated at court.”
The baker looked at you like you were the stupidest person she’d ever met.
“He is not bored, you idiot. He wouldn’t send a healer to a poor village and let a servant use his name just because he feels guilty.” She shook her head, grinning smugly at you. “He’s in love with you.”
“He is not!” You argued back, perplexed by the idea. “He’s just being kind.” You regretted the words as soon as you spoke them because even you were not convinced by them.
“Kind,” she scoffed, returning back to her decorating. “Mark my words. That boy is in love. And judging by how you’re pouting after not seeing him for one morning, you aren’t far behind.”
You left the bakery feeling more confused than ever.
In love? Pfft. It was impossible. You had only known him for a month and a half. More than half that time was spent bickering and avoiding. Just a week ago you despised him. You thought he was a lazy, arrogant womanizer. Now, the thought of him made your palms sweat and your heart race. It was terrifying.
You wandered the grounds aimlessly, trying to make sense of it all, when you heard the pounding of hooves on the ground.
Entering through the main gates was a small entourage of men on horses, and at the front on a beautiful white Arabian was Keeho.
He looked different to how you’ve ever seen him before. He wasn’t the lazy lounging Prince in silk robes you were used to. He was wearing a fancy structured riding coat decked in the crown’s seal that hugged his frame, hair windswept and messy from the ride. You’re breath caught at the sight.
They reached the stables and as he dismounted you expected him to toss the reins to the stableboy waiting in anticipation, but instead he stayed by the animal, pulling off his gloves. You watched as he ran a hand down the horse’s neck, murmuring something to him then patting him affectionately. The horse whinied and nuzzled against him which made the Prince laugh as he pressed a kiss to its muzzle.
There was something incredibly endearing about the way he handled the animal, so gently with so much care. Your face twisted into a look of irritated defeat as the sinking dread filled you. Your baker friend was right. You weren’t just grateful to him. You were attracted to him.
Lost in thought, you barely caught Keeho’s head turning towards you, as if he could feel your stare.
He froze, one hand still patting the horse, his expression shifting from serious to surprised. Then, a slow recognition sparked in his eyes that you could see even from where you were stood.
Panic seized you. You’d been caught staring.
Just as his hand was raising to give you a wave, you turned on your heel, cringing in embarrassment at your obviousness. You skidded away quickly, missing the content smirk plastered on his face.
──────✦
Later that evening the head housekeeper informed you that Keeho requested to have his dinner in his bedchambers rather than dining with the rest of his family.
When you arrived at the kitchens, however, the assortment of food was baffling. There was enough to feed three people and you were almost convinced a mistake had been made. When the kitchen staff let you know that this amount was personally requested by him, it only made you more confused. You loaded it all on a cart nonetheless, and made your way to his room.
When you entered he was sitting at his desk similarly to the night before, quill scratching against parchment. He was deep in thought, brows furrowed in a way that made him look more serious and older.
The moment the door shut, he looked up to you. He dropped the quill without a second thought, the ink dripping messily onto the parchment but he didn’t seem to care. He met your eyes with a smile and you nodded automatically, still caught up in your routine. “Your Grace.”
His smile fell as he stared at you with a raised brow and you caught yourself, correcting your mistake easily.
“...Sorry. Keeho.”
The smile returned, wider and more triumphant. “That’s better.”
You began to place the assortment of foods onto the table, hands slightly shaky under his watchful gaze. “Will you be needing anything else, Keeho?” The name is still slightly awkward on your tongue.
“Actually, yes,” He stood and approached the table, then pulled out the chair perpendicular to him. “Join me for dinner?”
You paled at the question, surprise taking over your expression. It was unheard of, a Prince dining with a servant?
“Keeho I... I can’t—”
“You can. Please? Here I’ll even lock the door if you’re afraid someone will see.” You watched as he did just that before walking back to the table. “Besides, look at all this food. This is far too much for just me. It would be a waste.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “You requested this much.”
“Yeah, so you wouldn’t say no to me.” He admitted without a shred of shame.
You felt the now all too familiar exhilarating flutter of panic again. This was breaking so many rules, but looking at him standing and waiting for you, you couldn’t refuse. You nodded and sat down.
You began to eat in a surprisingly comfortable silence although there was one question weighing heavily on your mind.
“You skipped breakfast this morning. You must be hungry,” you spoke, picking at a piece of bread to keep yourself busy.
“I had business to attend to, boring political disputes,” he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “It sounded like you missed me?’
You rolled your eyes hard as you retorted, though it lacked any real conviction. “I was just pleasantly surprised to not have to deal with you in the morning.”
“Liar,” he hummed, grinning. “You missed me.”
A week ago that arrogance would have made you want to dump your plate on his lap. Now, watching the way his eyes crinkled at the corners as he beamed at you, you found it annoyingly cute.
“So,” you deflected, “You actually do work then?”
Keeho chuckled, taking a sip from his water goblet. “I take on some tasks as a favor to Taeyang. Father lost faith in me a long time ago but this keeps him fully off my back. I made it very clear early on that I have no interest in the crown, and I have no interest in playing the perfect puppet.”
You nodded thoughtfully. “It’s not the same for your brothers, though, is it?”
Keeho shook his head, expression falling at the question. “Jiung is too loyal and devoted for his own good, Jongseob well… he tries but has a lot to prove for himself,” He paused, looking down at his plate. “And Taeyang… He never had a choice. As the eldest, his fate was sealed before he was born.”
You hummed introspectively as you grew more curious about their dynamic. “Can I ask a personal question?”
Keeho looked up, meeting your eyes. “Always.”
“Do you ever wish you were in the Crown Prince’s place? Do you ever wish you were the heir?”
“No,” the answer was immediate and sure, zero hesitation in his voice. “Never. I have no desire to rule a nation. The Kingdom should be glad I wasn’t the firstborn; I’d run it into the ground out of sheer disapproval.” He let out a dry laugh. “Taeyang has no control over any aspect of his life. His job, where he goes, who he marries… none of it belongs to him.”
The envy you felt for the royals dissipated slightly. It sounded more like a cage than a crown.
“But it had to be one of us.” Keeho concluded.
“But, you don’t crave power?”
He leaned back in his chair, thinking for a moment. “I find it useless. Spending your life serving millions, half of whom hate you for rules you did not create. I don’t see the value in that kind of power. It causes more harm than good. Wouldn’t you agree?”
You stared at him, admiring the depth of his perspective. It was cynical, perhaps, but it was honest. You realized then that your worldviews were far more aligned than you thought.
Keeho set his fork down and looked at you deeply, the playful glint in his eye gone and replaced with a more intense darkness.
“A king belongs to everyone. To his Kingdom, to the people, to the court.”
You hung onto his every word.
“I am far too selfish for that,” Keeho murmured, his gaze dropping to your lips before returning to your eyes. “I would much rather devote myself to one person who deserves it.”
“And…” your voice was barely a whisper. “Who would that person be?”
He didn’t reply, verbally at least. He just smiled—a knowing, secretive smile that made your stomach flutter.
He cleared his throat, breaking the trance and ignoring your previous question completely. “How is your schedule tomorrow? Do you have any free time?
You blinked, trying to recall your schedule through the haze you were facing. “I have tasks until a little after noon, then nothing.”
By that point you had finished eating and you stood up to gather the plates. Keeho stood up as well and began to help you to your surprise.
“Keeho, stop,” you protested, reaching for the plate in his hand. “You shouldn’t be doing this.”
He ignored you once again as he placed the last plate on the tray table. “Perfect. Meet me at the stables when you're done with all your work.”
You paused, face laced with confusion. “The stables? Why?”
“It’s a surprise.”
You looked at him like he had grown another head. “A surprise? Why would you have a surprise for me in the stables?’
He only stared at you as you tried to press for more information. “Keeho, seriously, I don’t know what you’re planning but—”
You didn’t get to finish your sentence, too distracted by Keeho reaching out to hold your arm as he backed you up until your lower back hit the table. He stepped forward into your space, placing his hands on either side of the table just beside your waist, caging you in.
Your heart slammed against your chest at the sudden proximity, and it was dizzying. Now you were sure that your baker friend was right, not even being able to deny the situation yourself.
Keeho tilted his head, studying your frazzled reaction with a satisfied smile. “I can just command it from you, you know.”
You fought against the urge to swoon, reverting back to your signature raised eyebrow and deadpan expression. It was the signature look that made him notice you in the first place.
“God I missed that face.” He brought one hand up, his knuckles brushing softly against your jawline, thumb resting just slightly under your chin.
“So,” His voice dropped to a whisper that made your knees go weak. “You’ll meet me then?”
You debated it in your head for all of two seconds, but you were already nodding. You couldn’t say no to him. Not like this.
He gave you a slow, dazzling smile, his eyes flickering to your lips again, lingering there for a long, torturous moment. You thought he might kiss you. Hell, you wanted him to kiss you. But just as you swore he was leaning in, he backed completely away all the same.
He clapped his hands together, the noise startling you. “Great! I have a few things to attend to… and prepare.”
“Prepare?” you finally managed to let out.
He ignored you for the third time that day, walking towards the door with an extra spring in his step. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
And with that he left his room, leaving you alone with your spiraling thoughts as you leaned against the table, breathless, flushed, and completely unsure of what you had just agreed to.
⚬───────────────✧───────────────⚬
if you made it to the end here is a heart just for you: ♡. I would greatly appreciate it if you could tell me what you thought in the comments :D(I'm just a girl that craves validation)
SERIES MASTERLIST a collaborative event by @jiuchip & @liliesonthego
and ALSO talking ab grooming your child and making them internalize the idea that you are the most important person in their life and the center of their existence, i get SO mad whenever i remember that scene where endeavor is talking to little touya being like "why don't you play with fuyumi and natsuo, why don't you make friends at school, there's more to life than being a hero" because the GALL. the NERVE. the AUDACITY.
first of all, this entire family exists because of enji making his entire life revolve around becoming the number 1 pro hero. so it's like clearly you do not believe there's more to life than this. touya is not an idiot, he's always been paying close attention to his father, he's always been looking at him!!! what you say doesn't matter even half as much as what you do and touya was always following his example.
second, for touya, making friends at school implied giving up on being his father's beloved son and successor, because making connections and needing other people was presented to him as something "other" (weak) people did. enji and rei did not have an equal partnership so teamwork was not modeled at home at all, and enji never encouraged him to make friends in pre-school or develop interests outside of becoming a hero. endeavor doesn't have friends, endeavor doesn't need others, and touya exists to be like endeavor, so he doesn't get to do those things either!!! that is the message he's been getting since he was born!!!! enji only pushes touya toward these things when he becomes "useless" and he wants to get him off his back and touya can tell!!!!! because touya knows this man probably better than anyone else in the world!!!!!!!!
and then what kills me is that shoto is the same! he has no friends in elementary or middle school, no discernable interests, no social skills no nothing, but endeavor doesn't care this time because shoto can become a hero and is doing that, so it's fine, because heroes don't need those things. that man didn’t learn a thing from touya ough i hate him... compare this to how rei seemed okay with enji training 3 year old touya and being the center of his world but then she saw what it did to him and his development and so with shoto she resisted enji repeatedly saying to let him be a child and went out of her way to try and be a stronger positive presence in shoto's life 💔💔💔 mama
Kakashi knows how to woo an Uchiha man, excuse you.
[My gift for @maireyart inspired by our Correspondence AU where post-war Obito leaves Konoha to go on his repentance journey, and obkk get reacquainted through letters.]
ellievsbear
izzy806
origamiaround
