chapter 4

Max settled back into the luxurious, oversized bathtub, feeling the warmth of the milk-infused water surround him. The scent of roses drifted up, blending with the faint sweetness of honey. Rose petals floated around him, bobbing gently on the surface as the two male attendants worked with calm precision. They spread a silky paste across his chest, shoulders, neck, and face—a blend of exotic herbs and oils intended to bring out the radiance in his skin. A female attendant knelt at his side, carefully trimming his nails and brushing his fingers with delicate strokes.

One of the male attendants, a short, lean,cheerful young man named Elias, glanced at Max’s somber expression and tilted his head. “Not a fan of the royal spa treatment, Your Highness?”

Max managed a faint smile, though his gaze lingered on the rippling water. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. It’s… relaxing.” He tried to make his voice sound light, but his mind was still reeling from Julian’s words, from the memories of his last engagement.

The other male attendant, a taller man with a quick grin named Daniel, chuckled as he smoothed the paste along Max’s collarbone. “Come on, Your Highness, most would dream of sitting in a bath like this. It’s not every day we get to prepare a prince for a royal visit. Especially from someone like Prince Alexandros.”

“Or maybe,” Elias added with a teasing glint in his eye, “he’s just nervous about impressing him.”

Max gave a quiet chuckle, his hand sinking a bit further into the water as he tried to keep up his calm façade. “Do I look like someone who’s easily impressed?”

Daniel laughed, tapping a bit of the fragrant paste on Max’s cheek. “Not impressed, perhaps. But certainly someone who’d like a good impression.” His fingers moved with surprising tenderness as he applied the paste, and he shot Max a warm look. “It’s not every day a prince like Alexandros crosses borders for an engagement like this.”

The female attendant, Sofia, looked up from her task of gently filing Max’s nails, her eyes softening as she observed his expression. “There’s no need to be too serious about it, Your Highness,” she said kindly, brushing his hand as she went back to trimming his nails. “You’re a good man. And if Prince Alexandros has heard even a hint of that, he’ll see what we all do.”

Elias continued, dipping his hands back into the herbal mixture and working it down Max’s arm. “True,” he said. “Besides, wouldn’t it be nice if this whole thing actually went well?”

Max’s smile turned faintly wistful, and he looked at his reflection in the water, the delicate petals drifting around his shoulders. “Would be nice,” he said softly. “But there are no guarantees.”

Daniel, noticing the sadness in Max’s eyes, leaned closer with a gentle grin. “Ah, Your Highness, you’ll turn us all depressed if you keep talking like that.”

Sofia finished smoothing Max’s nails and smiled softly. “Well, we just want you to be happy, Your Highness. And maybe… this could be a start.” She gathered up a small brush and began brushing the surface of his nails with a finishing oil. Her voice was quiet, her eyes steady. “I think Prince Alexandros would be lucky to see this side of you.”

Max’s heart gave a small, reluctant flutter as he listened to her. He managed to keep a steady tone, though, nodding thoughtfully. “Well, then. Perhaps I should try to see this with a bit of optimism.”

Elias laughed, clearly pleased. “That’s the spirit, Your Highness. If nothing else, you’ll look absolutely radiant.”

Max chuckled, watching as Daniel carefully dabbed some of the mixture onto his forehead. The faint aroma of herbs and roses drifted around him, and for a moment, he let himself relax into the comforting warmth, almost able to forget the shadows that lingered in his memory.

Sofia’s voice was soft as she whispered, “Trust yourself, Your Highness. You’re stronger than you know.” Her gentle words offered him a comfort he hadn’t realized he needed, and he gave her a soft nod in reply.

As the attendants continued their work, Max took a slow breath, trying to let go of the lingering weight on his shoulders. Perhaps, if nothing else, he could find some measure of peace in this moment.

4 hours later.

In the grand traditions of both kingdoms, marriage discussions between royals are treated with utmost formality and symbolism. Unlike meetings that happen behind closed doors for political negotiations or trade alliances, these rooms are reserved for matters of the heart—or at least, of matrimony. Each room is adorned with intricate tapestries, soft-lit chandeliers, and plush seating to create an atmosphere of intimacy within the vastness of the palace. Central to these rooms is a sheer, elegantly embroidered veil hung between two seated areas, symbolizing both separation and the promise of unity.

The tradition dictates that, before laying eyes on each other, prospective spouses engage in an initial conversation where they write down three questions for each other on sheets of parchment. The questions allow each royal to gauge the other’s intentions and desires without the influence of appearance or immediate chemistry. This is meant to give a pure insight into each other’s character, unhindered by distractions. Once the questions have been answered and exchanged, both are given a chance to read the responses in silence. Only if both feel satisfied with what they read will they choose to speak face-to-face, lifting the veil to signify the beginning of a genuine, mutual connection.

Today, in one such room, Prince Maximillian Ashbroune——sat patiently on one side of the veil. His hands rested on his lap as he awaited the arrival of Prince Alexandros Vireli, a name that was already known across kingdoms for his grace and charm. The room was silent except for the subtle flicker of candlelight, illuminating the elegant barrier that separated them.

Moments later, Max heard footsteps, and Alexandros entered, taking his seat on the opposite side of the veil. Their voices were calm and measured as they exchanged formal greetings.

"Prince Maximillian Ashbroune," Max began, a respectful bow in his tone.

"Prince Alexandros Vireli," came the warm response from the other side of the curtain.

After their brief introductions, they moved to the small stack of parchment and quills before them, each beginning to write down their questions. When finished, they exchanged their sheets through a subtle opening in the veil. Alexandros glanced at the questions Max had posed and spoke gently.

“I’ll answer yours first,” he offered.

The first question from Max read, What is the reason you want to marry me?

Alex didn’t hesitate, his voice carrying a sincerity that felt almost personal. “I am here because I believe a marriage should be based on respect, trust, and equality. I seek a partner who can understand me, not as a prince but as a person. I am here because I believe that together, we could grow into something greater than our titles.”

The second question was, Why do you think marrying is important for you?

He replied with quiet honesty, “Marrying is important to me because I believe in building a future with someone. I believe that two people can bring out the best in each other. As a prince, I have duties, but as a man, I seek a companion—a partner who will walk beside me, not behind me.”

Max found himself leaning forward, intrigued by the unguarded simplicity in Alexandros's tone. The responses felt neither rehearsed nor grandiose. Alexandros continued, his voice steady but warm.

Finally, he read the last line, which was more a declaration than a question: I'm not going to listen to you if you are going to keep restrictions on me. I want to be free if I ever go out of this country, freer than how I am here. If you are trying to keep me again in another cage, I'm not going to say yes to that.

A small smile crept into Alexandros’s tone as he answered, “I understand, and I respect that. Freedom is essential, even within a partnership. I don’t believe in restricting the person I am with; I believe in giving them the room to grow and thrive. I would never want you to feel as if you were bound to me by force or rules. I want you to feel free with me, just as I hope to feel free with you.”

The sincerity in Alexandros's responses, the ease with which he spoke, and the lack of any pretense stirred something within Max. He wasn’t accustomed to such open answers. So many people tried to charm him with elaborate promises or noble words, but Alexandros’s simplicity struck a different chord. It felt genuine, real.

For the first time in a long while, Max felt the faintest glimmer of hope.

Max lifted the parchment in front of him, and as he read the first question, he couldn’t help but feel a soft smile tug at his lips.

What is your favorite food?

He chuckled quietly, glancing over at the veil, and composed himself before answering. “Uh, I think… I think you can say cheesecake. I like sweets more than savory food, so yeah, cheesecake, I guess.”

From behind the veil, Alex’s voice responded in a tone just as lighthearted. “Even I like cheesecake! I prefer savory dishes most of the time, but cheesecake would definitely make the list of things I’d indulge in.”

Max could feel a genuine warmth in Alex’s voice, one that made the simple question feel oddly meaningful. He moved on to the second question, which continued in the same innocent vein.

What are your hobbies?

Max thought for a moment, carefully considering what he wanted to share. “Well, I enjoy painting… and horse riding. I like sword fighting, too. I play the piano and even try to write a few poems every now and then.”

Alex’s reply came quickly, tinged with enthusiasm. “Ah, sword fighting and music, we have some things in common! And I love horse riding. And maybe someday, you could show me some of your paintings?”

Max found himself nodding, even though Alex couldn’t see him. “Yes… I’d like that,” he replied softly, a sense of ease settling in the room.

Then, he came to the final question. As he read it, he felt a surprising warmth spread through him. The words were simple, almost vulnerable:

If I can’t keep you happy in the future, please don’t be rude to me. I have a small and simple heart. Just tell me you’re not happy, and I’ll try to change myself.

Max took a deep breath, his chest tightening as he considered his response. After a pause, he simply said, “Maybe you’re… nice.”

He wasn’t sure how else to answer, but his tone softened as he said it. And after a beat, he heard Alex’s quiet reply from the other side.

“At least I can make you happy with things like this… I don’t know if it would make anyone else happy.”

Max’s heart felt unexpectedly light. Each question, each exchange had been so genuine, so free of pretense.

Alex's pov

The moment I pulled the string, lifting the curtain between us, my breath caught in my chest. The world around me blurred and softened, fading to nothing but the vision before me. Time itself seemed to slow, each second stretching to let me savor this sight, to let me take in every detail as if they were treasures.

There he sat, a softness in his gaze that danced with so many things—hope, barely there, like a whisper of light, suspicion flickering like a shadow in his eyes, and a glimmer of happiness, hesitant yet shining. It felt as if he didn’t realize I could see that gentle curve at the corners of his lips, a small, shy smile that might go unnoticed by someone else. But to me, it was clear, fragile yet bright, like something precious held close to his heart.

My eyes traced the line of his nose, so delicate, perfectly soft against the light. And his hands… resting quietly in his lap, yet they spoke their own language. Fingers entwined, subtly fidgeting, giving away a slight tremor that hinted at his nerves, at the weight he carried in this moment. Those hands, so beautiful,veiny yet so graceful—they seemed almost as expressive as his face, betraying everything his steady eyes tried to conceal.

In that instant, with every breath and every beat of my heart, I knew I’d remember this sight forever. It was as though I had waited all my life to see him, to be in this room with him, to witness the gentle beauty that unfolded before me, layer by delicate layer. And for a moment, nothing else existed. Just him—Prince Maximilian, with his quiet grace, his subtle warmth, and his presence, filling my heart in a way I had never known possible.

Max lifted his eyes to meet Alex’s for the first time and felt a warmth spread through him. With a steadying breath, he offered his best smile and extended his hand, hoping it would be enough to bridge the newness of this moment. Alex reached out, their hands meeting in a gentle, firm handshake. As Alex’s fingers wrapped around his, Max noticed the strength in his grip, while Alex’s mind marveled at the surprising softness of Max’s skin, a detail that caught him off guard.

Settling into conversation, they eased into small talk, discussing simple things, stories from their lives, and even light-hearted mentions of the strange circumstances that had brought them here. Their words fell into an easy rhythm, and gradually, they drifted toward deeper topics—their thoughts on marriage, the role they each hoped to play, the life they envisioned for themselves together.

After a comfortable silence, Max looked at Alex thoughtfully. He shifted slightly, gathering his words, and then asked, “There’s something I want to be honest about. I don’t fit into the typical image people might expect. I know I can come across as… strong, a bit rough around the edges. I’m not delicate or, well, what people would call ‘cute.’ So… do you think you’ll be able to handle someone like me?”

Alex’s expression softened, his eyes brightening with an unguarded warmth. A small, almost knowing smile played at his lips. “All those things,” he said gently, “the delicate and cute traits… those are what weaker men want. They want someone they can control, someone who’ll follow them without question. That’s not what I want, not in the slightest.”

Alex’s gaze held Max’s, steady and sure. “ I’m a man who’s spent his life building strength in every way I could. And for someone like me, I want a partner who’s my equal, someone I can respect and admire. When I look at you, I don’t see some stereotype. I see a perfect blend of everything strong, good, and real. Your face, your eyes, the way you carry yourself… It’s a rare kind of beauty, Max.”

He paused, his gaze sweeping over Max’s broad shoulders, taking in the strength he saw there. “Your build, your presence—they only amplify everything remarkable about you. I want someone who isn’t just fine with me taking care of him, but who’s strong enough to stand beside me. And you… I believe I can take care of you in every way you’d ever need.”

Max felt his cheeks warm, caught off-guard by the conviction and sincerity in Alex’s voice. His heart fluttered as Alex’s words sank in, each one touching something deep inside him, stirring a happiness he hadn’t quite expected to feel.

“Thank you,” he managed, his voice soft. He could feel a small, shy smile tugging at his lips. The way Alex saw him, respected him—it filled him with a quiet sense of pride and anticipation that felt entirely new, yet entirely right.

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