The halls of the Royal Palace were a blur of polished marble and silent, bowing guards as Emperor Charles II of Valeria moved with purpose.
He was a handsome man in his prime, his forties lending a stern authority to features that were still sharp and commanding.
His blond hair, streaked with distinguished silver at the temples, was impeccably styled, and his stoic face gave away nothing of his thoughts as his attendants scurried in his wake.
Behind him, walking with practiced grace, was the reason for the night's celebration: Princess Yuliana. Dressed in a gown of breathtaking sapphire silk and a delicate diamond diadem, she was the picture of royal perfection. '
Yet, despite the fact that this entire grand banquet was in her honor, her mind was a thousand miles away, dazed in thought.
She had just been released after being grounded for sneaking out on the day of the ICC, a secret triumph that no one in the palace had uncovered where it actually was that she went. Meaning her disguise had still held and she even passed to the next round.
But her thoughts weren't on her punishment. They were on a dusty arena, the smell of sugar and magic, and a silver-haired boy who had created a dessert that tasted like the heavens.
As they reached the grand ballroom doors, the announcer's voice boomed, silencing the crowd within. "His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Charles II, and Her Imperial Highness, the Princess Yuliana!"
The doors swung open. A wave of bowed heads greeted them as they entered the glittering ballroom.
The next minutes passed in a montage of polite smiles and hollow greetings. Dukes and Countesses approached, offering their congratulations, but Yuliana's responses were automatic. In her mind, she was replaying it:
'He taught us a recipe no one has ever seen—let alone in the middle of a competition! Who is he? His name...was it Cassian Ahn? Yeah. I may need to look him up.'
Just then, the next noble in line stepped forward. A woman in an elegant gown of deep emerald, green, wearing a veiled Victorian-style hat that cast a mysterious shadow over her eyes.
"Your Highness," the woman said, her voice calm and dignified as she curtsied. "I am Viscountess Yuhwa Ahn. Please accept our family's sincerest congratulations on your coming of age."
Princess Yuliana was trying to come up with whom to investigate when she heard the 'Ahn' family mentioned. "Thank you for your wishes." she smiled.
She wasn't politically involved like her mother and older brother who were currently in the west boarder for negotiating with Bramveil Empire, but she still knew that the Ahn family wasn't in a good terms with her father.
The Emperor gave a brief, acknowledging nod. "Viscountess Ahn. It seems that Viscount Ahn, still hasn't returned from his journey?"
"That is correct Your Highness, he will not be attending today." Lady Yuhwa then gestured slightly beside her. "In his stead, may I present my son, and the heir to our house, Cassian Ahn."
shocked by the name she had just been pondering, Yuliana's gaze shifted quickly. Her eyes lifted to a noble boy who stood next to the Viscountess, past his formal noble attire instead of the cook's uniform, past his perfectly combed silver hair...
...and met a pair of familiar, ocean-blue eyes.
The world seemed to slow. The ballroom, the music, the chatter—it all faded into a distant hum.
Her royal composure shattered for a single, unguarded second, her lips parting in sheer, stunned disbelief, whisper. "Cook Cassian?"
"Your Highness." Ji Hoon came forward and bowed politely, the motion feeling strangely foreign when directed at the face of 'Cook Yuna'. "Congratulations on your coming of age." He raised his head and met her eyes. Those sharp, intelligent green eyes—even half-hidden by a mask, he would know them anywhere.
Ji Hoon was sure of two of his abilities: his capacity to remember a thousand recipes and the faces of those who mattered. And this face mattered. Yet, his mind reeled. 'What's Cook Yuna doing here? Dressed like... that? It has to be her, right? The eyes are the same. And from her reaction, she definitely recognizes me.'
The silence between them stretched for a beat too long, thick with unspoken recognition. The Emperor glanced at his daughter, a faint, questioning arch to his brow.
Princess Yuliana's composure, which had shattered for a single second, was now rebuilt into an impenetrable, regal mask. A small, polite smile graced her lips, one that didn't reach her eyes.
"Viscountess Ahn," she said, her voice clear and carrying, yet her gaze remained locked on Ji Hoon. "Your congratulations are most appreciated. It is a pleasure to finally make the acquaintance of your house." Her words were a public script, but her intensity was a private message.
She then turned the full force of her attention to Ji Hoon. "So, this is the heir of the empire's famous winery, Cassian Ahn. I have heard... intriguing things."
"Oh, you have?" Lady Yuhwa asked, surprised the Princess knew of her son.
"Yes," Yuliana replied, her voice a smooth, public melody. "I heard about your spectacle at the ICC. A noble, cooking? And daring to use a legendary ingredient like Sea Sugar?"
"Oh, it wasn't much Your Highness. I didn't know you're interested in such topics." Ji Hoon said, still not sure what to make of the situation.
She took a deliberate step closer, a perfectly practiced smile on her lips. "You see, as the princess of an empire renowned for its culinary arts, I am endlessly fascinated by such topics."
Before anyone could react, she closed the final step and boldly looped her arm through Ji Hoon's, locking him in place.
A visible ripple of shock passed through the nobles nearby. The Princess, rumored to show no interest in any suitor, was now intimately close with the son of a fallen house.
Lady Yuhwa's eyes widened slightly, her diplomatic composure faltering for a heartbeat. The Emperor watched his daughter with a deeply curious, almost wary expression, but remained silent.
"Lord Cassian," Yuliana continued, as if their linked arms were the most natural thing in the world, "you simply must tell me how you mastered such a difficult ingredient."
"Oh, I rea--"
She then turned her dazzling smile toward her father. "Father, may I be excused for a moment until the main event begins? I find I need a breath of air."
The Emperor's gaze was a physical weight. "You may," he said, his tone neutral. "But take Lewis with you." He gestured to the stoic guard behind him, and then his eyes—cold and sharp as daggers—flicked to Ji Hoon and his arm.
The unspoken warning was clear as ice: 'Remember your place.'
Ji Hoon instinctively tried to subtly withdraw his arm, but the Princess's grip was like iron, her hold both intimate and inescapable.
"Great!" she declared, ignoring his discomfort and addressing the group. "The architecture of this wing's garden is particularly fine with a recent restoration. We can go there. If you'll excuse us, please."
With that, and to the utter astonishment of the nobles and guests nearby, Princess Yuliana did not simply guide Ji Hoon—she all but pulled him by the hand, leading him swiftly through the crowd and into the hallway that opened onto the gardens. The guard, Lewis, followed at a discreet but watchful distance.
The doors swung shut behind them, leaving a stunned silence in their wake. Lady Yuhwa stood frozen, a thousand calculations and fears warring behind her calm facade.
Adrine shifted her weight, her hand instinctively drifting closer to the hilt of her sword, standing at the side of the ballroom with the other servants.
And from beside her, Ione watched the empty doorway, her golden eyes wide, her expression an unreadable mask of confusion and something sharper, something that looked unsettlingly like hurt.
* * *
Outside, The Royal Garden...
The night air was cool and sweet, a stark contrast to the stifling heat of the ballroom. A path of pale gravel wound through manicured hedges, lit by softly glowing orbs that floated like captive moons.
The distant music from the party was a faint, rhythmic hum, overshadowed by the gentle plash of a central marble fountain. Night-blooming flowers perfumed the air, their petals looking like shards of ivory and silver in the dim light.
The three figures—Ji Hoon, the Princess, and the stoic guard, Lewis—moved down the path, their footsteps crunching softly. With each step away from the crowd, Ji Hoon's mind raced.
'A princess. Cook Yuna is the Crown Princess of Valeria? To think I shared a kitchen with her. I hope I wasn't rude. How is any of this possible? What do I even say to her now?'
They reached a small, secluded clearing dominated by the fountain. Princess Yuliana stopped and turned to Lewis. "You may give us some privacy."
The guard's sharp eyes fixed on Ji Hoon, assessing him with the intensity of a hawk. After a long, silent second, he bowed stoically. "As you wish, Your Highness. I will be right here."
His hand rested meaningfully on the pommel of his sword. "If anything happens," he said, his gaze boring into Ji Hoon, "just call me."
"Thank you, Lewis. That will be all."
The guard took a few steps back, positioning himself at the entrance to the clearing, a silent, watchful statue.
Now truly alone, the awkward silence stretched. The weight of her title was suffocating. Ji Hoon, desperate to break the tension, finally found his voice, weak and hesitant.
"So... you are the Princess."
In the space of a single heartbeat, the world turned to ice.
A flicker of steel in the moonlight. A dagger, small and lethally sharp, appeared in Yuliana's hand as if conjured from the shadows itself. It moved with blinding speed, stopping a hair's breadth from his throat, the cold edge of the blade kissing his skin.
She watched him, her green eyes narrowed, her expression utterly unreadable.