A Stirring Of Emotions

A Stirring of Emotions

Prince Lilian sat on the edge of his bed, still gripping the quill in his hand. His mind was tangled with questions he had never dared to ask before. 

"How did my father become king?"

Mai's words echoed in his head, igniting an unsettling doubt. He had never questioned his father's rule—it was absolute, unquestionable. But today, for the first time, a seed of uncertainty had been planted. 

Was Mai right for asking such questions? 

Lilian let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his tousled hair. He was the crown prince—meant to rule one day—yet he couldn't even answer something so fundamental about his own kingdom. 

A sudden knock at the door shattered his thoughts.

Lilian turned his head sharply, annoyed at the intrusion. "What is it?" 

The door creaked open, revealing Lizzy, his royal maid. She was a small, slender girl with a calm demeanor, always efficient and precise in her duties. She bowed lightly before stepping forward. 

"Your Highness," Lizzy spoke softly, "Lord Delian has arrived from Azura Kingdom. He is waiting in the guest room for your Thursday meeting." 

Lilian blinked, momentarily forgetting about his weekly discussions with his cousin. Azura Kingdom, their neighboring ally, played a crucial role in their kingdom's economic stability and sustenance. Trade agreements, land disputes, and political relations were frequent topics between the two. 

Letting out a slow breath, he stood sluggishly, his mind still clouded with lingering thoughts. 

"Fine," he muttered, rolling his shoulders as he casually strolled out of his chamber. 

Lizzy bowed again before following behind at a respectable distance. 

Meanwhile, Mai made her way through the palace corridors, deep in thought.

The long sheet of parchment containing the list of rulers was clutched in her right hand, while the ink bottle rested in her left. Her gaze was fixed on the paper, her mind racing with confusion and suspicion. 

King Eric had no connection to the past rulers.

It didn't make sense. How did he become king? Was the throne taken by force? Did something happen to the previous royal bloodline? 

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice the figure standing in her path. 

Until she walked straight into him. 

SPLASH. 

Mai gasped as she felt something wet seep into the fabric of her dress. 

Looking down, she saw dark ink spreading across the front of her best gown—her most treasured one. The fabric was ruined. 

Her eyes darted up furiously to the person she had bumped into. "You—!" she began, her voice sharp. 

"You absolute—!" Mai's rage exploded before the man could even utter a word.

"Are you blind?!" she snapped.

"Do you have bricks for a brain?!"

"Standing like a tree in the middle of a hallway—do you have nothing better to do?!"

"You just ruined my best dress, you idiot!"

"What kind of imbecile stands in someone's way without moving?!"

She took a deep breath, her fury still burning as she delivered one final blow.

"Watch where you're standing!" she scolded, her frustration spilling over. "Do you have nothing better to do than block people's paths?" 

"Unbelievable! You must be the most useless, inconsiderate, empty-headed—"

Mai suddenly paused.

For the first time since she bumped into him, she actually looked at him.

The man before her raised an eyebrow, looking mildly amused rather than offended. 

Tall, with an air of nobility, he was undeniably handsome. His sharp jawline was well-defined, his dark brown hair neatly combed back, and his piercing gray eyes glinted with intelligence. He exuded confidence, the kind that came naturally to men of high rank. 

He was dressed in a deep emerald-green tunic embroidered with gold, fastened at the waist with a black leather belt. Over his shoulders, a dark velvet cloak flowed gracefully, fastened with a golden brooch. His black trousers were finely tailored, tucked into polished knee-high leather boots.

His entire presence radiated wealth and status. 

Mai took a breath, ready to lash out again, but then—realization struck like a wild slap.

Her eyes widened as she took a step back, her anger quickly replaced with horror. 

He was a Lord.

Her face drained of color. "Oh no..." 

The man crossed his arms, tilting his head. "You seem to have realized your mistake." 

Mai swallowed hard. She had just scolded a noble.

Stepping back two paces, she quickly lowered her head in an apologetic bow. "I-I deeply apologize, my Lord. I did not mean to—" 

He smirked. "Yet you did it so naturally." 

Mai's face burned with embarrassment. She had made a fool of herself in front of someone important. Without another word, she turned on her heel and ran towards her chambers, desperate to escape. 

Lord Delian watched her retreat, his smirk fading. His eyes darkened. 

--- 

Lilian entered the guest room, where Delian stood, his back turned toward the window.

At the sound of footsteps, Delian turned, his expression shifting into a relaxed smirk.

"Lilian," he greeted, stretching out his hand.

"Delian," Lilian replied, grasping his cousin's hand firmly.

They exchanged an informal, strong handshake, their bond evident in the way they greeted each other.

"It's been a while," Delian said, stepping back. "I trust your lessons in royalty haven't made you soft?"

Lilian scoffed. "Hardly."

Delian gave a small chuckle. But before their discussion could begin, his expression turned serious.

"Now then," Delian said, "before we talk business, tell me something—"

"Who was that girl?" he demanded, his voice laced with irritation. 

Lilian blinked at the sudden aggression. "What?" 

Delian stepped forward. "The girl who ran into me just now. Who is she? And why does she speak so disrespectfully?" 

Lilian's expression darkened. 

Delian's lip curled. "Is she a maid? If so, she should be reminded of her place. No servant should be allowed to wear such fine clothing, much less talk back to a noble." 

Something snapped inside Lilian. 

He felt his pulse quicken, his fists clenching at his sides. He wasn't sure why, but hearing Delian insult Mai made his blood boil. 

How dare he?

Did Delian even know that Lilian was the only one allowed to insult her?

He had been in a good mood. Happy, even, to see Delian.

But hearing him talk about Mai like that made his temper ignite.

Lilian ground his teeth, trying to suppress the anger creeping up his spine. His grip tightened until his knuckles turned white. 

"I asked you a question, cousin," Delian pressed, watching Lilian's reaction closely. "What is she to you?" 

Lilian inhaled slowly. He didn't like the way Delian spoke about Mai, as if she were beneath them.

Mai wasn't just any girl.

She was his teacher. His tormentor. His rival. His...

His breath hitched.

His what?

He shook the thought away.

With a curt tone, Lilian replied, "She is my tutor." 

Delian raised an eyebrow. "A mere commoner as your tutor? How laughable." 

Lilian's anger surged. 

He didn't know what annoyed him more—Delian's arrogance, his insults, or the strange protectiveness Lilian suddenly felt over Mai.

The realization unsettled him. 

Instead of answering, Lilian abruptly stood up. 

"This meeting is over," he declared, his voice cold. 

Delian frowned. "What? We haven't even discussed—" 

"I have other matters to attend to," Lilian interrupted. "There are letters I need to respond to." 

Delian's eyes narrowed. He clearly wasn't convinced. But before he could protest, Lilian strode out of the room.

As he walked down the hallway, he let out a sharp breath. 

What was happening to him? 

Why did he feel this way about Mai?

He shook his head, trying to push the thought away. 

But it remained there. Lingering. 

For the first time in his life, Prince Lilian felt something unfamiliar. 

And he wasn't sure he liked it. 

---