Chapter 5: Strategies and Suspicions

Adrien sat slouched in the plush chair of the royal library, exhaustion draping over him like a heavy cloak. The ornate desk before him was littered with scrolls and maps, along with his precious journal, open to a hastily scrawled outline of potential plans. His mind churned, trying to piece together a strategy to counter the feminine attack he knew was coming.

The situation was delicate—his supposed fiancée believed he and his father conspired to oppress her people. Though Adrien had yet to meet her, the fragments of the book he remembered painted her as a fierce and cunning woman, and her people were not to be underestimated. If she struck during the peace treaty event, as the novel dictated, it would not only threaten his survival but also destabilize the kingdom.

"Think, Adrien, think," he muttered under his breath, tapping the feather of the quill against his chin. His mind flitted between solutions, but nothing seemed foolproof. A faint headache throbbed at his temples, and he leaned back in the chair with a heavy sigh.

The creak of the library doors broke the silence. Adrien instinctively stiffened, quickly flipping his journal shut. Damian strode in, his figure commanding and confident as always. The light from the tall windows highlighted his striking features, and Adrien had to suppress an exasperated groan. Of all people, why did it have to be him?

"Your Highness," Damian said, his deep voice filled with mild concern. "You've been spending a great deal of time here lately. Are you well?"

Adrien sat up, feigning composure. "I'm fine," he said quickly. "Just thinking about...things."

Damian's sharp gaze scanned the desk, noting the disarray of papers and Adrien's tired expression. "Things?" he echoed. "It's rare for you to be so invested in...politics."

Adrien hesitated. He couldn't let Damian suspect anything unusual about him. "I'm just trying to find ways to make life better for the people who serve me," he said vaguely, hoping it would suffice.

To his surprise, Damian's eyes widened slightly, and for the first time, the stoic knight looked genuinely impressed. "That's...unexpected," Damian said softly. "But admirable. Perhaps I underestimated you, Your Highness."

Adrien blinked. "Uh, thanks?"

Damian stepped closer, his expression softening into something almost tender. "You've been pushing yourself too hard," he said. "May I offer you a massage? It might help relieve your tension."

Adrien, too tired to think twice, shrugged. "Sure, why not."

He hadn't expected much—maybe a quick shoulder rub—but the moment Damian's hands landed on his shoulders, Adrien froze. The man's touch was firm yet careful, his fingers kneading away the knots in Adrien's muscles with an unsettling amount of skill.

"This is...surprisingly effective," Adrien admitted, his voice slightly strained as Damian's hands worked their magic.

"I've had plenty of experience," Damian said with a faint smirk.

Adrien relaxed into the chair, letting the tension melt away. It was only when Damian's hands drifted from his shoulders to his arms and then lingered on his hands that the realization struck him like a bolt of lightning.

Wait... doesn't he...like me?

Adrien's eyes snapped open, and he stiffened. He glanced up at Damian, whose expression was calm but focused, almost...too focused.

"Uh, Damian," Adrien began awkwardly, "this is just a friendly massage, right?"

Damian's hands stilled for a brief moment before he chuckled softly. "Of course, Your Highness. Unless..." He trailed off, his smirk deepening.

"Unless nothing!" Adrien blurted, yanking his hands away and sitting up straight. "I think I'm sufficiently...massaged now. Thanks!"

Damian stepped back, an amused glint in his eyes. "As you wish, Your Highness. But do let me know if you ever need my assistance again."

Adrien groaned inwardly, running a hand through his hair. He hadn't even found love yet, and now he had to navigate this mess too? "Just my luck," he muttered under his breath.

As Damian turned to leave, Adrien called out, "Wait. I have a question."

Damian paused, looking back at him curiously. "Yes, Your Highness?"

Adrien leaned forward, his tone shifting to something more serious. "Hypothetically, if you knew someone was planning to poison you, how would you handle it?"

Damian's expression darkened, and his voice dropped to a deadly calm. "If anyone dared to harm you, Your Highness, I'd ensure they don't live to see the morning sun."

Adrien blinked. "Uh, no, I mean—hypothetically. How would you avoid being poisoned?"

Damian tilted his head, considering the question. "I'd use a food tester," he said simply. "And I'd drink only from sealed containers that I've personally inspected."

Adrien nodded thoughtfully. "Good advice."

"Is there someone threatening you, Your Highness?" Damian asked, his tone sharp with concern.

Adrien quickly shook his head. "No, no, it's just a thought experiment. That's all."

Damian studied him for a moment before nodding. "If that changes, you know where to find me."

As Damian left the library, Adrien leaned back in his chair, a faint smile tugging at his lips. Damian's suggestion was solid, and he made a mental note to implement it during the peace treaty.

"This might actually work," Adrien murmured, his confidence slowly returning. He opened his journal again, jotting down the new strategy.

The first problem was fast approaching, but Adrien was determined to survive. This wasn't just a story anymore—it was his life. And he wasn't about to let anyone take it from him.