Minutes earlier...
"I don't understand why you want us to investigate our enemies in the marketplace," Blake said, trailing behind Daniel. The Crown Prince was dressed down in a casual black summer jacket, dark jeans, sneakers, and a low-brimmed cap—his usual armor when blending into the crowd.
Blake, too, had dressed the part: a crisp white shirt, blue jeans, white sneakers, and a cap pulled low over his brow.
"Because the slums are too heavily guarded," Daniel replied coolly, his voice low and measured.
"We'll never get answers there. But here? Among the people? Our so-called 'friends' are praised like saints. If there's truth to be found, it'll be here."
Blake nodded.
"Okay. You're right."
Daniel's eyes scanned the stalls until they landed on a vendor arranging clothes. He stepped forward, ready to ask a few questions—
Until—
"Mrs.! I already said I would address you properly. Then why are you hitting me!"
Daniel froze mid-step.
That voice.
It was unmistakable. Soft, melodic... and infuriatingly familiar.
He turned toward the commotion, and sure enough—there she was.
The Flamingo.
She stood in the middle of the crowd, dressed in a simple flower-printed dress that somehow looked like it had been spun from the petals of a dream. Her sunhat tilted just so, casting a delicate shadow over her tear-bright eyes. One hand cradled her cheek, the other clenched at her side.
Daniel's breath caught in his throat.
'What is she doing now?'
"Hey! What's going on over there?"
The crowd was already gathering, drawn like moths to the flame of her drama.
Daniel narrowed his eyes.
"What is she up to now?" he muttered, weaving through the growing circle of onlookers, his pulse quickening for reasons he refused to name.
"Oh, shut up! No one is going to believe your act here!"
Another voice rang out—sharp, familiar, and laced with venom.
Daniel peered through the crowd.
Of course.
Standing facing her was her archenemy.
The Bat.
The Flamingo and the Bat—natural-born enemies—locked in yet another public skirmish. But this time, it sounded like the Bat was winning.
"I'm going to tell the royal family everything," Leticia spat.
"All the vile things you and your little vendor friends said about the Crown Prince behind his back. And I'll gladly report your blasphemous lies about being chosen as Crown Princess before the selection. Let's see if you're even allowed to participate after that."
Daniel sneered.
'So the Flamingo is already parading around, flaunting our little brunch like it was her coronation to become my Crown princess. Tsk...How typical. Naïve. And utterly stupid. She's dug her own grave this time and so foolishly.'
Around him, the murmurs grew louder. The crowd was turning. Whispers sharpened into judgment.
People began to speak ill of Ariel—saying Leticia had every right to slap her, that she had insulted the Crown Prince, that she had dared to assume a title not yet hers.
"What a bold woman to declare something like that," Blake muttered beside him.
"Is she wishing for death?"
Daniel snorted.
"Death would be too merciful for a foolish woman like that. This public humiliation is more than enough. It'll scar her for life. She won't be able to show her face in public for years after this."
Blake nodded.
"Indeed. But why would she do something so reckless? A beautiful woman like her should at least have the sense not to self-destruct in broad daylight."
Daniel didn't answer right away. His gaze lingered on her face—flushed, tear-streaked, trembling. She looked... defeated.
"Yeah...you're right."
Just then—
Leticia leaned in, whispering something venomous.
Ariel leaned in too. And then—there it was.
A smirk.
Small. Subtle. But unmistakable.
Daniel's eyes narrowed.
Something's off.
Before he could piece it together—
"Oh darling, I'm so glad you're finally here!"
The Flamingo bolted toward him.
And wrapped her arms around his waist.
Tears—clearly fake—streamed down her cheeks as she buried her face against him.
Daniel stood frozen, caught completely off guard.
'What the hell is happening?'
The Flamingo clung tighter to his waist, her performance flawless as she continued to feign sobs.
"This woman was horrible to me... she accused me of so many lies just because I didn't greet her properly."
"That's not true, you—" the Bat began to retort, but the words caught in her throat the moment he lifted his head—just slightly.
She saw his face.
Her eyes widened. The color drained from her cheeks like ink spilled in water.
Daniel didn't miss it. He saw the Flamingo's smirk bloom the moment her archenemy's expression crumbled into ghostly horror. Then, with perfect timing, she turned back to him.
"She even insulted you," she said, voice trembling with just the right amount of wounded sweetness.
"She called you a 'deadbeat asshole' and a monster! And when I stood up for you, she hit me. She accused me of things I never said. Oh, darling... look what she did to my beautiful face. It's horrible."
She gently lifted his hand and placed it against her cheek, guiding his palm to cradle the swelling as if he were soothing her pain.
Then she looked up at him—eyes wide, shimmering, full of teary innocence.
Daniel was momentarily stunned by her audacity.
But then...
He smiled.
Brazen. Shameless. Brilliant.
She was a vulture, no doubt about it. A creature of cunning and camouflage. He had almost underestimated her. Almost.
But the Flamingo-Vulture never failed to surprise him.
And he was amused.
Deeply amused.
'So you want to play a game with me? Very well. Let's play. Let's see how far you're willing to go. I want to know just how deep your deception runs—how much of that sweetness is a mask. I want to peel it back, layer by layer, until I find the vulture beneath. And when I do... I'll burn it. Since you already did something so bold, two can play at that game. I will show you something bolder.'
With that thought, he smiled wider, his fingers brushing her cheek with a tenderness that belied the fire in his eyes.
Then, slowly, deliberately, he leaned in—and pressed a kiss to her bruised cheek.
The faint taste of her cheek was like a lick of flame—brief, but scorching. It ignited something in him, something primal and unfamiliar.
It had only been a petty kiss.
And yet, it felt like an inferno had erupted inside him.
His mind betrayed him, conjuring images he hadn't invited: the taste of her lips, the press of her mouth against his, their tongues moving in sync, tangled in a kiss that burned and consumed.
Mmm...
He snapped out of it.
'What the fuck am I thinking?'
'This woman is dangerous. A predator in disguise. I should be wary—no, vigilant. If she's my enemy, I'll show her no mercy. I don't tolerate enemies. I burn them. I burn them until they stop screaming.'
But then...
Why don't I feel threatened?
He stared at her as she slowly pulled away, her cheek slipping from his palm.
And when she looked up at him—eyes no longer soft, but blazing with fury—he felt it again.
That spark.
That maddening, magnetic pull.
Which always threatened to pull him under.
And he often wanted.
'Was it worth it? To give into. To explore. Or it was just a small flicker that will get snuff out the minute he touches it and leaves in the cold?'
Whatever it is he wanted to find out the result even it meant destruction in the end.
Ariel's eyes widened, her lips parting slightly in disbelief.
The softness of his lips against her cheek sent a wave of butterflies crashing through her stomach. It wasn't just a kiss—it was a roar, a tremor that shook her from the inside out. A sensation she had never felt before.
Even though it was only a kiss to her cheek, it felt like a lick of flame had seared her skin.
And the fire didn't stop there.
It spread—slowly, deliciously—from her cheek to her neck, her chest, her limbs. Her entire body felt like it was ablaze, melting from the inside.
And the strangest part?
She welcomed it.
She liked how the fire consumed her. She didn't resist it. Her thoughts drifted—traitorously—to what it might feel like if it were a real kiss. Lips on lips. Tongues exploring. Breath mingling. Bodies pressed close.
Wait.
Wait, wait, wait.
Did I just get kissed by the dragon I vowed to tame?
How the hell did things get this out of control. I only meant to create a scene that would be a blow punch to that wretched woman. I didn't expect for him to be this bold and shameless enough to kiss me. It really is a sledgehammer of defeat to Leticia which is good.
But isn't this the jerkass prince who called me weak? A rabbit in lion's skin? A fake? A pervert?
A pervert! The nerve.
Haa! Who's the pervert now, Your Highness?
Here I only wanted to play it safe but you just showed your true colours.
Pervert!
She cursed in her mind before she pulled her cheek away, her eyes blazing with fury as she looked up at him.
But then—like a gust of wind shifting direction—her expression softened. She turned back to the crowd, her face transforming into a portrait of wounded innocence.
Her eyes landed on Leticia—collapsed on the ground, frozen in shock.
Ariel tilted her head, her voice soft but clear enough for the crowd to hear.
"You see, Mrs. Dinkley... I wasn't lying at all. How could I possibly be the Crown Princess of this kingdom when my heart already belongs to someone else? I would never dream of such a thing—much less betray my love."
She reached for Daniel's hand, lacing her fingers through his.
"I only told you I was participating because it's required. But I was never going to be chosen—because I was going to decline. You twisted my words, made it sound like I was desperate for the crown."
She gasped, pausing dramatically.
"Oh... unless..." Her eyes widened in mock realization.
"Did you say all those horrible things to me in public just to humiliate me? To sabotage my participation?"
She clutched her chest.
"But why? Haa... unless..." She turned to the crowd, feigning shock.
"Could it be that you're trying to sabotage every other maiden in the selection? So you can participate yourself—without competition?"
She gasped again, covering her mouth.
"A married woman... in the royal bride selection? I can't believe it....I can't even imagine..."
The crowd erupted.
"Oh my goodness, how shameless!"
"Immoral!"
"A married woman in the selection? What an abomination!"
"Wait—I recognize her. Isn't that the Duchess of Florence? The one whose mother was tangled in that scandal?"
"It's her!"
"Looks like the apple doesn't fall far from the tree!"
"How disgraceful!"
Leticia looked up, only to see Ariel casting her a sweet, triumphant smile—just before her own expression shifted into a mask of wounded innocence. She dabbed at her eye with a delicate handkerchief, a single fake tear glistening on her cheek.
Leticia growled low in her throat, then scrambled to her feet. She yanked her oversized hat down to hide her face and stomped out of the marketplace, her heels clicking furiously against the cobblestones.
Ariel watched her go, smirking in quiet victory.
'Yeah. Serves you right, bitch. You thought you could win against me. It was a close call... but I guess fate's on my side today. Don't worry, though. You're still going to get what's coming.'
Ariel jolted slightly as people began to circle around her, their voices soft with apology.
"We're so sorry for misjudging you."
"Please forgive us, Miss."
"We didn't know the truth..."
Ariel offered them a gentle smile and a sweet, forgiving,
"It's okay."
One vendor stepped forward, holding out a small bouquet of wildflowers.
"Here, my dear. For what it's worth, I'm glad you're not marrying the Crown Prince. It would be such a waste of beauty to be tied to that beast. Your radiance deserves better than that kind of sacrifice."
Ariel smirked, accepting the flowers with a graceful nod.
"Thank you for your kind gesture. But don't worry..."
She leaned in, her voice a conspiratorial whisper.
"Even if fate gave me to the Crown Prince..."
She winked.
"Beauty always tames the beast."
The vendor burst into laughter.
"Of course! How could I forget?"
She leaned in and whispered,
"Between you and me, I think you'd make a wonderful Queen."
With a wink, she turned back to her stall.
"Come back and visit!" she called out.
Other vendors chimed in with cheers and warm invitations.
Ariel smiled, basking in the glow of her small victory.
She inhaled the flowers as a small token of victory.
Until—
"Are you enjoying yourself?"
The low, smooth, husky voice rang out behind her slicing through the air like a blade.
Ariel froze.
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
That voice. That cocky phrase.
The same one he'd used when she'd met him as Bailey—when she'd accidentally provoked him.
She had momentarily forgotten about him.
But now... his presence loomed behind her like a shadow of doom. A shadow of death.
'Does he say that all the time? Or... oh no. Crap! Did he recognize me?'
Her throat went dry. A bead of sweat slid down her spine.
Slowly, she turned to face him.
His eyes were no longer honeydew gold.
They were red.
Fiery. Monstrous. Unforgiving.
Gone was the angel. Before her stood the beast.
"You're in some serious trouble."
Ariel's blood ran cold.
"Crap. I'm done for."