The Royal Agreement

Chapter Eight

It had been three weeks since I was discharged from the hospital.

Life had slowly returned to its normal rhythm, or at least, as normal as it could get. Strangely enough, Victor had become a constant presence in my life during that time. We spent most of our days together, studying, hanging out, and even just sitting in comfortable silence

It wasn’t that I had abandoned my friends—Paige and Jamie were still very much a part of my life—but I found myself gravitating towards Victor more and more. It was like something about him drew me in, like a moth to a flame. Plus, Paige and Jamie were both leaving me alone like they were forcing me to be with Victor.

Today, we were in the library, preparing for exams that were on every student’s mind in the university because it was exam week. The quiet hum of the library, with its rows of books and the soft rustling of pages, was the perfect backdrop for studying.

Victor was sitting across from me, his brow furrowed in concentration as he read through a particularly dense section of our textbook. I couldn’t help but smile as I watched him. There was something incredibly endearing about the way he focused so intently as if nothing else in the world mattered except for whatever he was trying to learn.

He was smart—like, really smart. I admired his dedication and his commitment to learning. It was something I valued deeply, especially since I was so focused on finishing my own studies. My friends, of course, were relentless in their teasing, constantly shipping me and Victor together. But I couldn’t let myself get swept away by their fantasies. I had priorities, and my education was at the top of that list.

Or at least, that’s what I kept telling myself.

I shook my head, forcing myself to look back down at my own textbook. We were currently quizzing each other on a wider scope of the muscular system and its various diseases, and while it was grueling, it was also kind of fun. Victor had a way of making even the most boring subjects interesting to my surprise.

We didn’t just give each other the answers when one of us was stumped; no, that would be too easy. Instead, we pushed each other, asking follow-up questions and probing deeper until we finally reached the correct answer ourselves. It was a game, almost—a test of memory and wits—and I couldn’t deny that I enjoyed it.

We had been in the library for three hours, and I was starting to feel the fatigue set in. As I packed up my things, ready to call it a day, something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye.

A group of men in suits—security, by the look of them—rushed past our desk, their movements urgent and precise. Before I could react, Victor’s hand was suddenly on mine, a firm but gentle grip that made my heart skip a beat.

“It’s fine,” he said quietly, his voice calm, but there was an edge to it that I couldn’t quite place.

The security team stopped in front of us, and one of the men stepped forward, his face pale and his expression tense. “Sir, your father…” The man’s voice faltered, and I felt a chill run down my spine. “He’s in critical condition. You need to return to Copenhagen immediately.”

Victor’s face drained of color, and for a moment, he looked like he might collapse. He reached out, grabbing the edge of the desk for support. I immediately stood up, instinctively moving closer to him, my concern for him outweighing the confusion swirling in my mind.

“Victor,” I said softly, placing a hand on his arm. “You need to go. I don’t know exactly what happened, but you’re needed. It’s your dad.”

He nodded, though his gaze seemed distant, as if part of him had already drifted back to Copenhagen, lost in the weight of everything happening. Then, without warning, he pulled me into a tight hug. The suddenness of it made my breath catch, and for a moment, I froze in surprise. But as his arms wrapped around me, strong and warm, something stirred deep inside.

It was like a fragment of something long forgotten—a memory just out of reach. The way his embrace felt so... familiar like I had been here before, held by him like this. The warmth, and the way his presence made the world seem to slow down as if everything around us didn’t matter. I felt safe as if in his arms, everything would somehow be okay.

For a fleeting second, it was more than comfort—it was recognition. But the memory slipped away just as quickly, dissolving into the fog of my mind, leaving me grasping at shadows. And yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I knew him, had always known him, long before I ever met him in Seattle.

I pulled back slightly, blinking away the confusion, but the sensation lingered, a whisper of something lost in the tangled web of my missing past.

“I’ll see you soon. I promise,” he whispered into my ear.

The words echoed in my mind. It sent a wave of warmth through my chest that was both comforting and unsettling. Why did those words affect me so much? Why did his touch, his presence, make my heart race like this?

Before I could make sense of it, Victor took my hand, lifting it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of it. My skin tingled where his lips had touched, and I felt a strange, unexplainable connection like there was something between us that I couldn’t quite understand.

The guards moved into position, ready to escort him out, but just before he left, he turned to me, his eyes locking onto mine.

“Take care, Ciella,” he said, his voice a mix of worry and determination.

And then he was gone, swept away by the tide of security, leaving me standing there in the library, my mind racing to catch up with the whirlwind of events.

As the guards followed Victor out, one of them paused and turned to me. He bowed low—deep and respectful—and the others did the same, their movements synchronized. I blinked in surprise, not understanding why they would show me such deference. I gave them a small, awkward nod, and they quickly hurried after Victor.

I stood there for a moment, trying to process everything that had just happened. Why did Victor have security escorts? And why had they bowed to me? It didn’t make any sense. I shook my head, trying to clear the confusion, and followed them out of the library.

Just as I was about to leave the building, I saw a car door swing open. Stepping out was Victoria—the elegant, older woman I’d met at my house weeks ago. Her face was etched with worry, her eyes were red from crying. She rushed to Victor, pulling him into a tight embrace, and he hugged her back just as fiercely.

My heart clenched at the sight. Did they know each other? How? And why hadn’t Victor ever mentioned her?

I watched as they both got into the car, the door closing behind them with a finality that made my stomach twist. I had assumed Victor came from a wealthy family, but this... this felt different. It was like there was something more, something important that I was missing.

But whatever family Victor belonged to, I couldn’t help but hope that his dad would be okay. The thought of him going through something so devastating made my chest ache. I was so lost in thought that I didn’t even notice Paige and Jamie approaching until Paige gently tapped my shoulder.

“Something happened?” Paige asked, her voice filled with concern.

“Victor’s dad is in critical condition,” I explained, trying to keep my voice steady. “He had to go home to Copenhagen.”

“Oh no,” Jamie whispered, her hand flying to her mouth. “Is Victor okay?”

I shrugged, shaking my head slowly. “I guess… But I’m wondering what kind of family Victor has.”

The words felt strange coming out of my mouth. Who was Victor, really? And why did I feel like there was so much more to him than what I knew?

The rest of the day passed in a blur. My mind kept replaying Victor’s words—I’ll see you soon. I promise.—and the way my heart fluttered every time I thought about them. I didn’t know why I felt this way. Was it because I was slowly starting to like him? Or was it just the familiarity, the nostalgia of being around someone who felt... important? My emotions were a tangled mess, and I didn’t know how to unravel them.

I forced myself to focus on my studies, on anything that would keep my mind off the confusing feelings that had taken root in my chest. But no matter how hard I tried, one question kept nagging at me.

Was it nostalgia? Or was it something more?