Noble Intentions

Royal Cromwell Palace
Henfordshire

The royal breakfast table was alive with its usual calm orderliness. King Maximilian and Queen Aria Grace sipped their tea, sharing quiet conversation. Crown Prince William spread marmalade over his toast as his wife, Princess Wilhelmina, engagingly recounted the details of her brother’s latest diplomatic triumphs back home. Veronica, however, was conspicuously silent, her eyes glued to her coffee cup.

But her morning coffee wasn’t the focus of her attention—her phone was. Hidden under the table, her fingers darted across the screen, scrolling through the news. Her breath caught as the headline jumped out at her: “Crown Prince Elias of Nordhaven Injured in Skiing Accident.”

In her shock, she let out a yelp, a sharp, high-pitched sound that pierced the air. Startled, she inhaled sharply and swallowed wrong, causing her to choke on the sip of coffee she’d just taken. Her coughs came out sputtered, and in a desperate bid for relief, she hastily spit the coffee back into her cup. The metallic clink of porcelain against the table echoed in the sudden silence as the cup was set down with trembling hands.

Every movement in the room seemed to freeze. William’s brow rose ever so slightly, a flicker of amusement—or perhaps judgment—dancing in his eyes. Across the table, Wilhelmina’s knife hovered mid-air, suspended above the slice of buttered toast as though caught in indecision. The King and Queen shot her matching disapproving glances, their expressions carved from stone, the faintest twitch of Queen Aria-Grace’s lips betraying her unspoken reproach.

“Was there a fish in your tea,” William commented dryly, breaking the silence. “What’s gotten into you?”

Veronica coughed, fumbling with her phone as she hurriedly held it up. “It’s Eli—he was in an accident! I have to see him! Oh my God, I hope he lives! Papa, you must call his father and find out! Mama, I have to fly there – NOW!” she burst out, her voice laced with urgency.

“Eli? Who’s Eli?” Wilhelmina asked, glancing over in concern. “And sorry, what happened? I am so lost.”

William took the phone from his younger sister before she could answer. His brows furrowed as he sighed, then read aloud, “‘Crown Prince Elias of Nordhaven Injured in Skiing Accident—Condition Stable.’ There you have it—he’s fine. Likely dinged up, probably landed on his big ego bruising it, but alive.” His voice, usually steady and composed, carried a note of playful exasperation. “See? He’s fine. Alive, kicking, and probably already complaining about hospital food,” William added with a wry grin, handing the phone back to her. “Maybe next time, try reading the whole article or at the very least the full headline before panicking like the world’s about to end.”

His sister huffed, crossing her arms. “I did no such thing! I was merely … politely and appropriately concerned.”

“Oh, really?” William arched a brow, his grin widening mischievously. “I seem to recall a very dramatic gasp and regurgitated tea fit for a theater stage. If that wasn’t panicking, then I think we all should applaud your performance.”

“It was coffee, not tea. I just happened to swallow it wrong, that’s all,” Veronica retorted with a pout, before springing to her feet, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. “Mama, Papa, please! I must see him! It’s the … proper thing to do, all things considered,” Her plea was immediate and heartfelt, the distress evident in her voice.

King Maximilian frowned, his expression caught between concern for his daughter and a need to maintain decorum. “Sit down, Veronica,” he said firmly, though his tone softened when she obeyed. “First of all, I’d like to remind you of the rule about no cell phones or tablets during meals, on, at or under the table, young lady. However, if you truly feel a phone inquiry won’t suffice and a personal visit is necessary, we’ll arrange a visit at Gyllenborg Palace—after breakfast. But you must not go alone. You are still a minor and a princess in your own right, it would not be appropriate.”

“Of course not,” Wilhelmina said, setting down her knife with finality. “I will accompany her. Will and His Majesties have the state visit with the delegation from Mt. Komorebi, I can get away the easiest. And I’ll admit, I need to see … this Eli again. When did we start calling him Eli?”

Veronica blinked in surprise. “Long story. And you will go with me? Oh, thank you Mina! Mama? Papa?”

Queen Aria Grace gave a small sigh, her love for her daughter outweighing her reservations. “Very well. But you both need to keep us informed throughout,” she said.

The King added, “And remember, Veronica, you are representing our family. Composure is key. I know I do not have to tell Mina that, but not so sure about you, young lady.”

Nordhaven
Royal Infirmary

The faint beeping of monitors was the only sound in the otherwise quiet private hospital room. Crown Prince Elias Gyllenborg of Nordhaven lay in a partially reclined position on the bed, his arm bandaged and a purple bruise blooming along his cheekbone. His blond hair was tousled, one strand stubbornly falling across his forehead. While he might have looked ruggedly handsome even in his injured state, the glare he shot at his leg immobilized in a cast ruined the illusion of serenity.

He was sipping water when the door opened, and a young nurse slipped inside. She moved quietly, almost timidly, as if afraid to disturb the royal patient.

Elias choked. Not even really on the water, but with suppressed laughter that erupted unexpectedly, his sly smirk lighting his face for the first time that day.

The royal attendant stationed by his bedside—a proper and ever-watchful steward named Mr. Lindström—rushed forward in alarm. “Your Highness! Are you alright?”

Elias coughed and waved him away. “I’m fine. Just…” His gaze flicked to the nurse, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You may leave us now, unless, of course, you’d prefer to stay and observe as the nurse performs her duties?”

Lindström stiffened. “I must insist on staying, Your Highness. It is by your father’s orders.”

The nurse’s young voice broke the tension, catching both men off guard. “Oh, by all means, stay. I could use an extra pair of hands to turn His Highness over—his royal posterior won’t scrub itself, you know. A proper bed bath requires a delicate touch. Firmly, but gentle, you see.”

“Tell me, Lindström,” Elias said with a sly grin, “is scrubbing my royal backside officially listed in your job description?”

The “nurse” grinned as she stood near the door, a golden strand of hair slipping from beneath her cap. Lindström froze, his expression stuck somewhere between horror and confusion. “I—uh—well…” Without further persuasion, he retreated to the door. Pausing briefly, he nodded stiffly to the nurse. “Miss,” he murmured, his tone strained but polite. “I’ll be just outside, Your Highness,” he added hastily before excusing himself.

The door clicked shut, and Elias turned his gaze to the “nurse,” his signature sly smirk firmly in place. “Ah, yes, the bed bath. Firm yet gentle, wasn’t it? I must say, I’m looking forward to the royal treatment.”

“I’m sure one of the proper nurses will gladly oblige,” she shot back, stepping further into the room and yanking off the cap to reveal her familiar golden locks.

Elias’s eyes roved over the uniform, his smirk widening. “I have to say, you wear that rather well, Princess. What’s the occasion? Trying out a future career? And in my father’s kingdom, no less?”

Veronica fixed him with a withering glare. “I came straight to the hospital after landing to see you, but I was turned away. I wasn’t about to endure the endless palace scrutiny first—it’d take hours, and I wanted to see you now and not after hours of polite small talk, during which your parents clearly would have told me anyway that I can’t see you.” She crossed her arms. “So, I improvised. Lucky me, there happened to be a room full of freshly laundered uniforms. Practically an engraved invitation.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “And your parents just waved you off to Nordhaven on your own?”

She arched a brow, her tone dripping with mock incredulity. “Of course not. That would be wildly improper. Mina’s here as well. She’s stationed in the hallway, blending in until someone tries to barge in—then she’s poised to play the perfect distraction.”

Elias threw his head back in laughter. “Your sister-in-law? The very Wilhelmina von Ahrensberg? Sister to King Alexander of Windenburg? Part of this… intrigue? Now I’ve truly heard it all. I thought Windenburgians—especially the von Ahrensbergs—were the epitome of stiff formality. All rigid etiquette and no sense of humor! How did you ever rope her into this? Please, don’t tell me it was under duress.”

Veronica laughed, perching on the edge of a nearby chair. “Oh no, no, no, no, Mina’s different. She’s really fun. My brother and she laugh a lot. Actually, this was her idea. Well, it was mine first, but she encouraged it and helped me put it into action. She’s very resourceful.”

“Your family is just full of surprises. And you’re right—my parents would’ve kept you at the palace regardless, since I’m set to be discharged tomorrow anyway. All the tests came back fine; the rest is just healing, and I can do that much better at the palace. Besides, it’s less of a hassle for the hospital staff.” Elias’s grin widened with clear amusement, though it quickly took on a mischievous edge. “Actually, now that you’re here, I’m thinking I’ll push for them to let me out today. I’d much rather spend time with a certain rebel princess than lie here bored out of my mind—though I warn you, I’m probably not very entertaining in my current state.” He chuckled softly, but as the laughter ebbed, his smirk faltered slightly when her gaze softened, a shadow of concern flickering in her sparkling blue eyes.

She leaned forward cautiously, brushing her fingers lightly along the cast on his arm. “How are you? What happened to you, Eli?” she asked gently, her voice barely above a whisper.

Instead of answering immediately, Elias reached out with his uninjured arm, his fingers curling around hers with unexpected ease. His touch was warm, grounding. He began to gently stroke his thumb across the back of her hand—a slow, absent motion that belied his usual arrogance. The moment hung between them, soft and unspoken, as if the rest of the world had disappeared.

He let out an exaggerated sigh, shattering the tension but still holding her hand firmly. “I turned eighteen, that’s what. So, as one does for landmark birthdays after which one knows their life is going to change drastically, a few of my friends—who are also heading off for further studies—thought it’d be fun to go skiing. You know, one last hurrah with some good old-fashioned male bonding. And since we were finally of legal age to drink, we thought, ‘Why not combine the two?’ Seemed like a brilliant idea at the time. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.”

Veronica groaned but didn’t pull her hand away. “Eli,” she chided, shaking her head. “Why am I not surprised?”

Elias grinned, his thumb still tracing slow patterns on her hand. “Relax, Princess,” he said, grinning. “As you can observe, I’m quite well. A little tattered and torn here and there, but I’ve been assured I’ll heal fully and be as good as new. I’m an excellent skier. Just clearly not so great at figuring out my alcohol tolerance, apparently. As it turns out, mixing the two doesn’t work so well, at least for me. Either that or it was an assassination attempt by nature.”

“You’re impossible,” she said, though the faintest hint of a smile tugged at her lips.

“And yet, here you are,” he countered smoothly, his eyes gleaming with that familiar slyness. For all his cocky charm, there was a quiet sincerity in the way he held onto her hand, as though reluctant to let go.

“Yes, yet, here I am. Why did you not text me, I had to learn about this from news headlines?”

“Well, unfortunately my phone wasn’t quite as lucky as I, it sadly didn’t make it out of the accident. Even if it had, I am certain it would have been confiscated by my overbearing parents and attendants. I am supposed to rest, as if I have a choice, I am not exactly very agile at the present time. There is only so much I can sleep, especially when the pain medication wears off.”

“And why didn’t you tell me you turned eighteen already? I did not know you were that close! Oh, well … happy belated birthday, by the way,” she demanded, crossing her arms.

Elias tilted his head, his sly smirk deepening. “Thank you. I am almost offended that you don’t know my birthday.”

“How would I? We never spoke about birthdays. You don’t know my birthday either.”

“May 5th.”

Veronica blinked, her mouth slightly open as she stared at him. “How do you—?”

“I did my due diligence, Princess,” he interrupted smoothly, reclining back as though he had rehearsed this moment. “Or, as the commoners say these days, ‘thorough online stalking.’ That’s the nice thing about people like us. Few things about us that are not publicized. Just have to filter through the nonsense.”

Her brows knit together, equal parts disbelief and curiosity as he continued, his tone laced with mock arrogance. “Would you like another taste of what I already know? Let’s see. Your full name is Veronica Annabelle Cromwell, which is why your family’s nicknames for you are Belle or Annie. Both names are fitting, given your love for dancing—just like the Disney character and the musical star. I know your favorite color is light blue, and you prefer silver metals for jewelry—how convenient for me, since those happen to be my kingdom’s colors. You absolutely love horses, especially Aurelia, your light palomino Cromweller mare that your father personally selected for you on your 13th birthday. You’re not just any horse lover either; you prefer riding immediately after breakfast or at dawn and refuse to let anyone else braid Aurelia’s mane. Your guilty pleasures are chocolate-covered candied fruit and romantic movies with happy endings—and heaven forbid the protagonists die in the end; you’d probably throw your popcorn at the screen, sweet popcorn or caramel corn, which happens to be your favorite movie snack.”

She blinked, flustered, but he wasn’t done.

“But—” he raised a knowing brow, leaning slightly forward, “you despise Brussels sprouts with a burning passion, get unreasonably grumpy when it rains on your birthday, and your absolute favorite flowers—wait for it—are roses, more particularly soft pink roses. Which, by the way, is a rather romantic choice, Princess, and so very predictable, maybe a little disappointing, but in your defense, the rose is the official flower of your kingdom, as well as the middle name of several of your ancestors and current family members so your lack of originality may be forgiven.”

Veronica gaped, her face heating up as he shot her a self-satisfied smirk.

“Oh, and one more thing,” he added nonchalantly. “When you’re nervous, you tap your nails against whatever hard surface is nearest—just like you’re doing now.” He gestured toward her fingers, which were drumming lightly against the chair she sat on.

Her hand froze mid-tap, and she immediately put it in her lap, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “I am not nervous. I am … never mind. You’re—how—I mean, how is that even possible? All that can’t possibly be on the internet about me!”

Elias tilted his head, his smirk widening as if he were savoring her reaction. He gently shifted his grip on her hand, his thumb brushing slow, deliberate circles on the back of it. The gesture felt strangely intimate, as though he were trying to both steady her and claim her attention.

“I have my ways. I told you, Princess, I did my due diligence,” he replied smoothly, his voice laced with playful mock sincerity. “A true testament to my dedication, wouldn’t you agree? Just as it was for you to rush to my bedside after my ill-fated encounter with a tree during that skiing mishap. Truly, I am overwhelmed by the extraordinary lengths you’ve gone to in order to grace me with your presence. It’s almost enough to make a man feel special.”

“Elias,” she murmured, her voice filled with awe. “I… I didn’t realize you noticed me so much. We spent those three wonderful days together here, and I invited you to Henfordshire, just like you asked, but you never came. How else was I supposed to interpret that? I thought you’d lost interest.”

His smirk softened, giving way to an uncharacteristic flicker of sincerity beneath his usual arrogance. “Lost interest? Far from it. From the moment you stormed into the gardens at Cromwell Palace, ditching your own debutante ball and saying those shockingly un-royal things, you had my full attention. And I haven’t stopped noticing everything about you since. But life gets complicated. When I turned 18, as you might remember this from your brother William, things change drastically for a Crown Prince. Duties immediately piled up. I wanted to be there at Cromwell Palace, to have your undivided attention during those days, but I already knew my mind was made up about you. Besides,” his grin tilted back into playful territory, “you being here in my room now proves something: either you’re deeply invested or a very determined stalker. And honestly, I’m perfectly fine with either.”

Veronica flushed deeper. “I did not say un-royal things. And I am not. Merely … politely and appropriately concerned.”

“You absolutely did, and you definitely are,” he teased, his laugh low and rich. “It’s one of the reasons I decided you might actually be worth getting to know. And I find my instincts were excellent.” he pulled her hand to his lips and placed a kiss on her fingertips.

Deeply blushing, she pulled her hand away in a reflex, clasping both hands in her lap. “You’re impossible. I can never tell when you are serious or teasing me!”

“And you’re predictable and unpretentious, Princess,” he quipped, his sly smirk firmly back in place. “You have no poker face which is one of many reasons why you stood out to me. Very refreshing.”

She rolled her eyes, unable to stop the smile creeping across her face. For all his arrogance and mischief, Elias had a way of making her feel like the center of his universe—even if he did know an alarming amount about her.

Nordhaven
Gyllenborg Royal Palace

Elias lounged on the couch, his leg in a cast and his arm in a sling, his bruised cheekbone only adding to his rakish charm. His vibrant blue eyes sparkled with mischief as they caught Princess Veronica’s. A smirk tugged at his lips, daring her not to respond. Veronica, standing beside her sister-in-law Wilhelmina, tried to keep her composure, but Elias’s antics got the better of her.

He crossed his eyes dramatically and tilted his head, the picture of exaggerated helplessness. Veronica’s lips twitched before a soft giggle escaped. She quickly turned her head, a blush rising to her cheeks as her light blonde hair fell forward, partially shielding her face. Her effort to regain composure failed when she glanced back to see Elias wiggling his eyebrows at her with exaggerated flair, his grin widening. This time, her laughter bubbled out, drawing the attention of everyone else in the room.

Wilhelmina, her cool blue-grey eyes glinting with quiet authority, sighed softly. The faintest flicker of amusement crossed her face, but she quickly recovered her composure. Her dark blonde hair framed her features neatly, accentuating her poise as she nudged Veronica gently but firmly. “Veronica,” Mina murmured, her voice low and steady, tilting her head slightly toward the King and Queen.

Veronica straightened at once, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as her cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of pink. The King and Queen stood together by a loveseat, their poised stances reflecting only the faintest trace of exasperation as they exchanged a glance. King Sven’s icy blue eyes settled on his son, the weight of his disapproval unmistakable.

“Elias,” the King said, his voice steady and commanding, “you may be absolved from some royal protocol during your convalescence, but unbridled laughter in a moment such as this is entirely uncalled for.”

Queen Ingrid rested her hand lightly on the King’s arm, her warm blonde hair framing her face as she turned her eyes toward Elias. “Indeed, Elias,” she added, her tone firm but measured. “This is hardly the time for such levity, regardless of the circumstances.”

Elias’s grin faltered momentarily, though the glint of amusement lingered in his vibrant blue eyes. Raising his good hand in mock surrender, he replied, “All right, all right—I apologize.” A sly smile crept back onto his face as he added, “But really, smuggling themselves in as nurses? That’s legendary. I am equally flattered and impressed.”

Veronica flushed further, averting her gaze to the floor as her laughter faded into a quiet, embarrassed silence. “We only wanted to make sure he was alright,” she mumbled, stealing a quick glance at Wilhelmina.

Wilhelmina lifted her chin slightly, her blue-grey eyes calm and steady. “If I might add, I think we made rather convincing nurses,” she added smoothly, her tone carrying a touch of dry humor.

Queen Ingrid’s lips twitched faintly, the ghost of a smile flickering before she suppressed it with practiced ease. King Sven sighed heavily, shaking his head with a weariness that seemed too familiar. “Convincing or not, this was reckless—and you’ve created quite the diplomatic stir.”

Turning back to Elias, the King fixed his son with a stern look. “And you. I trust you will contain yourself while we address the matter at hand?”

Elias inclined his head, his good-natured grin creeping back onto his face as he gestured toward his cast-bound leg. “Of course, Father. I’m perfectly contained, not going anywhere.”

His father sighed heavily before resuming. “…stealing nursing uniforms, basically breaking and entering a hospital, sneaking into the Crown Prince’s private room—”

“Borrowing,” Wilhelmina interjected smoothly, bowing her head with impeccable grace. “Pardon, Your Majesty, I must insist, as stealing implies intent to permanently deprive. Veronica and I had no such intention. We merely borrowed the uniforms for a noble cause.”

Queen Ingrid arched an eyebrow, clearly fighting a smile. “Not one but TWO spicy princesses, no less, and both with a noble cause?” she echoed, her tone both skeptical and faintly amused. “And what cause could possibly justify such behavior?”

“Brightening your dear son, the Crown Prince’s dull confinement, Mum, obviously,” Elias chimed in, the grin on his face as broad as the cast on his leg. “And it worked, too. I haven’t laughed this much since I hugged that tree at—what was it—forty miles per hour?”

“Forty-five,” King Sven corrected in a neutral tone, his expression as serene as ever. “Considering the incline, I’m surprised it wasn’t faster. Lucky for all of us, it wasn’t and you hit at an angle or the outcome would have been much worse. But you know my thoughts on your accident, so we shall leave it at that.”

“Forty-five,” Elias repeated, leaning back with a smirk. “Yes. A real bonding moment between me and the tree. Wonderful chap, by the way. Bit rough around the edges and clearly an afficionado of love with feelings. I still feel it now.”

King Sven pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly exasperated. “You’re not helping, Elias.”

“Apologies,” he said, though the glint in his eye betrayed a distinct lack of remorse. “Blame it on the meds, shall we? But Mina’s right. It was a noble cause. Look at me—I’m practically glowing with gratitude and joy. Thank you, princesses.”

Veronica, emboldened by Elias’s lightheartedness, spoke up. “Your Majesties, if I may…I would like to sincerely appologize for the inconveniences I–we– may have caused but when I heard about Eli’s—I mean, when I read in the news about His Highness’ unfortunate crash I felt behooved to … see him immediately, but the hospital wouldn’t let me and … umm..” she said quickly before catching herself and looking to Mina for support.

Mina, ever poised and graceful, stepped forward to answer, her tone even and measured. “Princess Veronica and I acted solely in the Crown Prince’s best interest. His spirits were clearly in need of lifting after such a terrible accident he endured. It is fortunate, of course, that he survived with no worse injuries. But anyone known to be as active as His Highness, now confined to a bed for such a time would feel the weight of monotony, dragging everyone’s mood down with it. I’d like to believe our efforts were a success. Surely, the health and well-being of the heir to Nordhaven is a cause worthy of borrowing a uniform for and maybe bending a rule or two?” She ended with a serene smile, the picture of propriety.

Queen Ingrid exchanged a glance with King Sven, a flicker of amusement tugging at the corner of her lips, though she quickly subdued it. “While your intentions may have been noble, young ladies,” she began, her gaze sharp yet not unkind, “they do not justify your unorthodox methods. You must consider the consequences if word were to spread that two members of the royal House of Cromwell saw fit to… reinterpret royal directives. How do you think that would reflect on us all?”

“Noble but unorthodox,” Elias echoed from his place, chuckling softly as he shifted slightly in his chair. “That’s actually a pretty good way to sum up Veronica, wouldn’t you say?”

Veronica shot him a glare, though her rising blush betrayed her irritation. “You’re hardly in a position to comment on orthodoxy, Your Highness,” she retorted. “Drunk skiing? Really? Doesn’t strike me as proper royal protocol.”

“Touché, Princess,” Elias replied with a grin, his thumb absently brushing over the back of his injured hand. His gaze softened as he added, “We both share a penchant for unorthodox demeanor, and I think we both know I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He paused, his expression growing more serious. “Speaking of which… Since I have all of you here, I’d like to make my intentions clear. Mother, Father,” he said, turning to Queen Ingrid and King Sven. “Veronica, Mina,” he continued, meeting each young woman’s gaze in turn. “I ask you all to bear witness to my statement of intent. Once I am out of these casts and after my official eighteenth birthday celebration, which the House of Cromwell will obviously be invited to, I will begin my training at the Royal Academy, as is tradition. But before that, I want it to be known that I intend to formally pursue Her Royal Highness, Princess Veronica Cromwell, if she’ll agree of course.”

The room fell silent, the weight of his words settling over them like a velvet curtain. Veronica’s blush deepened with her gasp, but her expression held steady, a mixture of surprise, defiance, and something softer flickering in her eyes.

Mina’s composure faltered just enough for a knowing smile to bloom across her lips, while Queen Ingrid and King Sven shared another glance, their emotions unreadable.

Elias shifted slightly, trying to mask the discomfort of his injuries as he turned his attention fully to Veronica. His expression softened, the teasing edge in his voice unmistakable. “Under normal circumstances, I’d be on one knee before you, Princess,” he said, gesturing to his casted leg with exaggerated helplessness. “But alas, it seems I’ll have to postpone that particular display of chivalry. So let’s just not call this what we are all thinking it was, and stick to it being what I said it was, a declaration of intentions. If, that is, Her Highness is even interested in entertaining the idea of maybe one fine day becoming the queen of this wonderful kingdom.”

A quiet laugh escaped Veronica’s lips despite herself, her blush lingering as she tried to maintain her composure. “With all due respect, Your Highness, but I think you might have hit your head. Either you did, or I must have.”

Elias grinned, shaking his head. “No, I am serious and clear as day, Veronica. I mean, this is what your debutante ball was about. Why your parents gave it and why I attended. To find matches for us. I believe we match,” he shrugged.

“But I barely know you still. I mean, we have met what, three or four times now, not counting your usually obnoxious texts and some chats.”

“Well, by no means are we getting married tomorrow, as you well know, such things take a very long time in our circles, and we mustn’t be married until both of us graduated higher education, which will be at least 5 or 6 more years, should be plenty of time to get to know me better then. Although I’d say you pretty much have a pretty good grasp on who I really am by now. I never held back, not with you. So?”

Elias’s grin widened as he locked eyes with her, his voice lowering slightly, more intimate now. “Blå fjäril,” he murmured, using his mother tongue term for blue butterfly, a nickname that never failed to make her heart flutter. He added a playful wink for good measure, knowing exactly how to disarm her. “This is where you answer, princess. Don’t leave me hanging now.”

Veronica stared at him, momentarily caught off guard by the weight of his gaze and the unexpectedness of his words. But she rallied quickly, tilting her head with a coy smile of her own. “I’m here, aren’t I? I heard of your accident and hurried to see you, barring no measures of covertness. If that doesn’t answer your question, no words will,” she quipped, tossing back one of his own frequently used phrases with a precision that made Mina suppress a smirk from the sidelines.

“‘Sounds like a yes to me!’ Eli beamed, flashing a roguish grin and winking at Veronica before turning to his utterly gobsmacked parents. ‘Mum, Dad, can you believe it? One important royal task off my long list handled, and honestly, I’m kind of loving it!’”

The room, for a moment, felt like theirs alone, filled with unsaid promises and a connection that didn’t require words.

Later that same day

The regal halls of the palace echoed softly with the footsteps of Queen Ingrid, King Sven, and their guests who just arrived from Henfordshire—King Maximilian, Queen Aria Grace, and Crown Prince William. The group moved with purpose, the air between them laced with anticipation and curiosity. Mina walked beside them, her hand firmly in William’s.

As they turned a corner, William suddenly stopped, peering through a grand window. “Hold up,” he said, gesturing for the others to follow his gaze. “You might want to see this.”

The group crowded near the window, their eyes falling upon the courtyard below. There, under the soft afternoon light, Elias sat in a wheelchair, his leg and arm both in casts, though his confident demeanor betrayed no trace of self-pity. Standing before him was Veronica, a delicate wildflower in her hand that she had clearly just picked. She hesitated for only a moment before extending the flower toward him, her cheeks flushed with a soft pink.

Elias tilted his head, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. Instead of taking the flower, he caught her wrist with surprising speed and strength. With a subtle pull, he drew her into his lap, the wheelchair creaking slightly under the weight. Veronica let out a startled laugh, her blush deepening as Elias leaned forward and kissed her, a gesture both tender and unapologetically bold.

She pulled back, flustered but smiling despite herself, and the moment felt suspended in time. Without breaking his gaze, Elias plucked the wildflower from her hand and carefully tucked it into her hair, his fingers lingering as they brushed against her cheek. Veronica, recovering quickly, reached up to adjust the flower, her lips curving into a small but genuine smile. She leaned closer, her hand brushing back a stray lock of his unruly hair, while Elias caught her fingers and pressed a kiss to their tips, his gaze never wavering from hers.

The three women—Ingrid, Aria Grace, and Mina—watched the scene unfold with synchronized sighs. “Aww,” they cooed, the sound harmonious and heartfelt.

Maximilian’s brow arched as he turned to Sven with a dry expression. “I’m guessing this would be the reason for our summons, Your Majesty?”

Sven’s grin was subtle but amused. “It was an invite; I wouldn’t dare summon someone of your status. But you’d be correct, Maximilian. My son has a declaration of intent to present to you. Though I dare say you can likely guess the topic at hand.”

Crown Prince William laughed and nudged Mina, his wife. “Dang, my little sister works fast!”

Mina gave him a playful swat on the arm. “Oh, please. This was mutual, and you know it. Look at them. He is all over her.”

Aria Grace, amused but protective, added, “Indeed it was. Though I must admit, I didn’t expect such… enthusiasm from Veronica. She’s always been so quiet and sweet. Pretty much engaged at 16? Holy crap, if my mother hears about this she will have a fit as she goes into a speech about emancipation.”

Queen Ingrid turned to Aria Grace, her tone warm but teasing. “Oh, it is admittedly a bit young for both of them, but enthusiasm doesn’t even begin to describe how Sven and I feel about it. We’ve spent years trying to raise even a flicker of interest in Elias for someone of proper station for him to court. You know as royals we can’t just go out and date whomever we like, and we wanted him to gather some dating experience before we get to where we somehow ended up now. Yet, every young lady was dismissed by him, either ‘not interesting,’ downright ‘boring’, ‘duller than a wet noodle,’ or ‘not pretty enough.’ It was hopeless, truly. And now…” She gestured toward the courtyard with a knowing smile. “Well, now we have this. Happened so fast it made our heads spin, but if I may be so frank, Sven and I are more than eager to support this and make this official, before Eli goes off to the Royal Academy for several years, and we are hoping that your dear husband and you could overlook the aspect of youth and agree to the union.”

Giggling, Aria Grace nudged her husband “Now, where have I heard that story before? A Crown Prince who drives his parents into insanity by rejecting every single young lady he’s introduced to, only to suddenly present them with the one he wants out of the clear blue skies?”

Maximilian let out a long sigh, but his expression softened as he watched his youngest daughter in the arms of Nordhaven’s Crown Prince. “Yes, I once was just like that, and I have never regretted my choice. I have deeply regretted some subsequent actions, those of an inexperienced young king, but as you see, love always finds a way. I suppose I have no room to judge Elias and Veronica and it was bound to happen. We shouldn’t be surprised if for centuries now we have thrown balls for our children to meet future mates and then they … do. Now we wish to reprimand them for it? Seems we got caught up in our own traditions once more and have to face the inconvenient consequences. Though I must admit, I wasn’t prepared for it to happen quite like this. But I knew. I just knew. The way she looked at him, I knew.”

“You knew because I told you!” Aria Grace teased, planting a quick peck on her husband’s cheek.

The group continued on their way, leaving the young couple momentarily unaware of the royal audience they’d had from inside.

The group had started the stroll together, a unified procession of regal poise. Crown Prince William initially walked beside his parents, King Maximilian and Queen Aria Grace, along with King Sven and Queen Ingrid of Nordhaven. His wife, Wilhelmina, stayed close to his side, their hands clasped together as they moved down the grand corridors of Gyllenborg Palace.

But as the hallway narrowed slightly, framed by imposing columns and intricate carved décor, William slowed his steps. He glanced over at Mina, a playful smile tugging at his lips. She met his gaze, a faint question in her blue-grey eyes, but before she could ask, he gently placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her to fall behind with him. The others continued ahead, unaware of the quiet shift in pace.

With the space between them and the rest of the group growing, William leaned in, his voice low and teasing. “I hope you saved the nurse uniform. I would love to see you in it.”

Wilhelmina froze mid-step, her blue-grey eyes widening as a flush crept up her cheeks. “William!” she whispered in a scandalized tone, though the laughter in her voice betrayed her. She swatted at his arm, but her lips twitched, fighting an inevitable smile.

“What?” William feigned innocence, his light green eyes glinting with mischief. He caught her hand mid-swat, bringing it to his lips to press a kiss to her fingers. “I think you’d make an excellent nurse. Very… convincing.”

Wilhelmina shook her head, her dark blonde hair catching the light as it shifted with her movements. “You’re positively scandalous,” she murmured, though the warmth in her voice made it clear she didn’t mean it.

“Oh, I am scandalous? And yet, my parents and I are here because you snuck into a royal hospital of an allied kingdom with my little sister, who is about to receive a proposal from the local Crown Prince, whom she is currently making out with in the palace gardens, even though you were here to chaperone,” William replied with a grin that softened into something more genuine. “What does that say about you?”

“It says that love always wins,” she quipped, though the affectionate glint in her eyes gave her away. “You and your father can thank me later, since I seem to have helped secure your youngest sister becoming queen of Nordhaven one day. You are most welcome.”

The sound of their footsteps slowed further as the voices of the group ahead faded into the distance. William glanced over his shoulder, his sharp gaze sweeping the expanse of the corridor. Guards clad in immaculate uniforms of light blue and silver stood at intervals along the hallway, their polished boots gleaming under the soft glow of the chandeliers above. Each guard bore the insignia of Nordhaven’s royal family on their double-breasted jackets, the crest embroidered in shimmering silver thread on their breast pocket. They stood with quiet vigilance, their silver-trimmed spears and ceremonial swords adding a regal gravity to the scene.

The mischievous spark in William’s expression was unmistakable as he pointed at one of the many gilded doors lining the hallway. He addressed a nearby guard, who straightened immediately and dipped into a respectful bow.

“What’s behind this door?” William asked.

“This door leads to the East Wing sitting room, Your Highness,” the guard replied, his tone steady and deferential.

“Perfect,” William said, his hand already tugging Wilhelmina closer. “I’ll need the room for a private conversation with my wife. Make sure we’re not interrupted.”

The guard inclined his head sharply. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

With practiced precision, the guard stepped forward and opened the door, holding it open as William guided Wilhelmina inside. The golden light from the hallway spilled briefly into the room before the guard carefully closed the door behind them.

As the door clicked shut, William turned to Mina, his expression softening into something far more intimate. Without a word, he pulled her into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping securely around her. Before she could say anything, he leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was both tender and full of unspoken emotion.

“William!” Mina murmured against his lips, her voice a mix of surprise and affection as she melted into his embrace.

“Just a moment to ourselves,” he whispered, his forehead resting lightly against hers. “I’ve been waiting all day for this. Especially since hearing about you in that nurse’s uniform. You’re irresistible,” he murmured, cupping her face in his hands. Before she could protest—if she even intended to—he captured her lips in a kiss that was both tender and urgent.

Wilhelmina’s hands rested against his chest before sliding up to wrap around his neck as the rest of the world melted away. For that moment, in the quiet sanctuary of the room, there was only them.

Back in the hallway, Queen Aria Grace glanced over her shoulder, a slight frown creasing her brow. “Weren’t Will and Mina just behind us? Where did they go all of a sudden?” she asked, leaning toward her husband.

King Maximilian didn’t even need to look back. His hazel-blue eyes stayed focused ahead as he replied dryly, “I don’t want to know. Do you really want to know?”

Aria Grace paused, considering his words for a moment before a small, knowing smile curved her lips. “No, if you put it that way, I really do not.”

Maximilian sighed, his tone laced with wry humor as he added, “I can’t wait for the next scandal we’re called to—caused by William. I can hear it now, King Sven and Queen Ingrid calling us downstairs the minute we enter our chambers to freshen up for the formal dinner, only to complain about William and Wilhelmina having gotten caught lovingly handcrafting our future heir right here at the Nordhaven palace with Windenburgian and Henfordian parts. Delightful. As if we don’t have plenty of romantic places for that back home. Face it, queen of my heart, our children are as pleasing to the eye and charming as they come, but I swear, at any given time, they’re a walking diplomatic incident waiting to happen. The whole lot of them.”

Maximilian smiled at his wife’s soft laughter as she slipped her arm through his, linking them together with an ease that spoke of decades of devotion. Without a word, he placed his hand over hers, his touch instinctively protective yet gentle. Aria Grace leaned into him as they walked, her head tilting ever so slightly toward his shoulder in a quiet show of affection.

“You giggle now,” Maximilian murmured, a wry smile playing on his lips, “but just wait until we’re summoned to yet another lecture about our eldest. Or Veronica. Or both, heaven forbid, as this palace has many rooms to get in trouble in. Or maybe we get called back home because of Vivienne. Or to Zeehaven because of Victoria. At least we can’t complain of boredom.”

Aria Grace looked up at him, her light green eyes shimmering with amusement. “Wouldn’t change them for the world,” she replied, her tone warm. “Though I might consider a week of peace and quiet, just us, as a close second.”

Aria Grace shook her head with a knowing smile, leaning against him just a little more as the voices of the group echoed faintly ahead. The two monarchs moved together in perfect step, their quiet conversation a comfortable rhythm in the grand halls of Gyllenborg Palace.

And all the while, the young couple they had left behind lingered, blissfully wrapped in their stolen moment.