We are freer on this outing, like two teenagers on a camp trip, far removed from the weight of our past. Dressed in casuals, we blend into the lively suburb, a place Cassian calls one of his favorite hideouts. It's nothing like the grand, suffocating halls of the palace. Here, the air smells of roasted corn and grilled meat, the chatter of people fills the space, and laughter echoes from groups of locals playing cards under a tree.
But something about this place tugs at my memory. I've been here before. Years ago, as a teenager, I came with friends, laughing and carefree, oblivious to the world beyond our own youth. The realization unsettles me, but before I can dwell on it, Cassian steers us into a small, rustic bar, its thatched roof and wooden stools a stark contrast to the luxury he's accustomed to.
We sit across from each other, sipping fresh coconut water from its shell. Cassian looks completely at ease, his posture relaxed, his gaze sweeping the lively streets as if he belongs here.
I tilt my head, watching him. How does he do it? How does a man born into royalty, who lives in opulence, slip so effortlessly into this world without raising suspicion?
"How do you pull it off?" I finally ask, placing my coconut on the table. "How do you go around on these wild escapes without being recognized as the crown prince?"
He chuckles, shaking his head. "They don't know me," he says simply.
I frown. "What do you mean they don't know you? You're the Crown Prince of Matica."
He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, his expression thoughtful. "My father kept me locked away as a child," he confesses. "No interactions, no friends, no playing outside. My life was strictly books, training, and palace etiquette. By the time I was old enough to step out, no one knew what I looked like."
I blink, taken aback. "You mean the people in your own kingdom don't recognize you?"
He smirks. "Not when I don't want them to." He gestures around us. "I started sneaking out when I turned eighteen, dressed like a commoner. At first, it was just curiosity. What did the real world look like outside the palace gates? But then, I realized I liked it. I liked the freedom. I liked being just another guy at a bar, having a drink, talking to people who didn't see me as a prince first."
His words linger between us, sinking in.
I glance around again, seeing this place in a new light. This isn't just an escape for Cassian - it's a rebellion against the life that was forced on him. A life he never got to choose.
"You really hate being a prince, don't you?" I say softly.
He exhales, looking out into the distance. "I don't hate it," he admits. "But sometimes… I wish I had the choice to be something else."
I watch him, seeing him in a way I never did before. Not just as Cassian, the arrogant, entitled prince I once married. Not as the man who humiliated me and made me feel insignificant. But as someone who had been trapped in his own way, longing for a taste of freedom.
And for the first time, I understand him.
I don't say anything else. Instead, I pick up my coconut, take a long sip, and lean back in my chair.
Tonight, there are no titles. No palace walls. No expectations.
Just us.
We leave the bar and head to a hotel, the best in town. It's grand, luxurious in a way that doesn't scream royalty but rather refined taste. As soon as I step into the lobby, something hits me like a wave crashing against the shore.
I've been here before.
The scent of polished wood and fresh lilies, the gleaming chandeliers, even the golden staircase leading up to the suites, it all triggers something deep in my memory. I know this place. Not vaguely, not as a passing thought, but clearly. The feeling is so strong that I stop in my tracks.
Cassian, meanwhile, is already ahead, shaking hands with the manager and exchanging greetings with the staff like he owns the place. He moves with such ease, like this is his second home.
I push the unsettling feeling aside as he takes my hand, leading me toward the club inside the hotel. The moment we step in, we are ushered to a special VIP section - front-row seats to the night's wild energy. The music is loud, pulsing through the walls, the bass thudding deep in my chest.
Drinks are poured, plates of exquisite food are placed before us, and the entire atmosphere hums with life. Cassian leans back, nodding to the rhythm, absolutely in his element.
I watch him. He's free here. No crown, no palace, no burdens. Just a man enjoying the night.
He catches my stare. "What?" he asks, still moving to the beat. "You don't like it here?"
I smile. "I do. It's lovely."
But deep inside, I feel something more. A strong, unshakable déjà vu. I don't tell him. Not yet. Instead, I sip my drink, letting the moment sink in.
We eat, laugh, and drink some more. And then, Cassian suddenly stands and reaches for my hand.
"Let's dance."
I hesitate. "Cassian…"
"No excuses." He grins, pulling me up. "Come on, Celeste. Just one dance."
The music changes, something fast, wild, intoxicating. It pulses through the club like electricity, and before I know it, I give in.
We dance. And dance. And dance.
Bodies sway, lights flash, the beat drowns out every thought in my head. Cassian moves like he was born to do this, his rhythm impeccable, and I match him. Move for move, beat for beat.
The excitement in his eyes grows, and suddenly, he throws his head back and laughs. "Damn, Celeste! You didn't tell me you could dance like this!"
I laugh too - hard. The kind of laugh that comes from deep inside, that makes you forget everything else.
We spin, twirl, lose ourselves in the moment. Drinks keep coming, the world blurs, and yet it feels familiar. So familiar that my stomach clenches.
Then, in a drunken haze, it hits me.
I've done this before. With him.
Nine years ago.
The realization is a shock to my system. I freeze for a brief second, my eyes locking onto his. But Cassian is still lost in the moment, spinning me, holding me close.
I don't say it.
I don't want to ruin the night.
But suddenly, the past and the present are too close for comfort