The Prince and His Girl

Lenweil

Lila’s POV

I woke up as the wheels bumped against the runway, but I didn’t move. I kept my eyes closed, letting my head stay nestled against Tobi’s shoulder, warm and steady beneath me. I didn’t want the feeling to end. I could’ve sworn I felt him shift and press a featherlight kiss to the top of my head. I smiled—just a little—at the idea. Even if I’d imagined it, I didn’t care. I wanted it to be true.

“Hey, Lila… wake up. We’ve landed,” Tobi whispered, his breath brushing against my ear. Then, impossibly gently, he stroked his fingers along my cheek.

A warm shiver spread down my spine. Get a grip, I scolded myself silently.

“Sorry I slept on you,” I mumbled, stretching my arms and arching my back.

“Anytime, beautiful,” he said, grinning. He winked at me like it was no big deal, like flirting came as naturally to him as breathing.

My cheeks flushed instantly, and I dropped my gaze, suddenly shy. He stood first, easily retrieving both of our bags from the overhead locker and handing mine to me without a word.

“Thanks,” I said softly, still trying to piece together the puzzle of who this new Tobi was. Why had he suddenly started showing interest in me? Not just interest—attention, care, affection. It didn’t make sense. He’d worked with my dad for nearly a year. Stoic, professional, polite—but never overly warm. Always distant. Not rude, just… reserved. And now, within twenty-four hours, he’d kissed me, flown with me, and flirted like he couldn’t help himself.

I didn’t understand it.

I wasn’t the kind of girl who turned heads. Light brown hair, grey eyes, the kind of features that blurred together when I looked in the mirror. I wasn’t fashionable—more likely to be found in jeans and a bright, baggy knit jumper than a miniskirt and heels. Cute, maybe. Not stunning.

Tobi, on the other hand, looked like he belonged on the cover of a cologne ad. Tall, sculpted, with a kind of easy power in the way he moved. His dark brown hair always sat perfectly, whether he was in a suit or a hoodie. And his face… sharp jawline, full lips, and those deep, unreadable eyes that I swore had glinted gold at least once. He was impossible. Beautiful. And yet, he kept looking at me.

As we walked through the terminal to the luggage carousel, I noticed people—women—watching him. Eyes lingered. Smiles were thrown. He didn’t seem to notice any of them.

But he kept looking back at me.

A part of me wanted to believe it. Another part whispered that it wouldn’t last. That I wasn’t enough to hold his attention for long.

Outside, we queued for a taxi. Tobi pushed the trolley with our suitcases, refusing to let me lift a finger. I watched the muscles in his arms flex with quiet efficiency and fought the urge to reach for his hand.

He glanced at me. “Penny for your thoughts?”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Huh?”

“You’ve been chewing on your bottom lip since baggage claim. Spill.”

I shook my head, eyes dropping. “It’s nothing.”

“Come on,” he nudged my arm with his elbow. “Tell me.”

I hesitated, then looked up to meet his gaze. “Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden? I mean… you’ve always been nice. But this is different. Why now?”

He paused. A few seconds passed before he answered.

“When I worked for your father, I couldn’t cross that line,” he said, voice low and careful. “You were his daughter. It wouldn’t have been right.”

“But now?”

“Now,” he said, cracking a small smile, “we’ve both left Forreston. And I thought, maybe I’d finally have the chance to ask you out. On a real date.”

My mouth parted slightly, heart thudding.

“I probably shouldn’t have snuck up to your room last night,” he added, eyes glinting with mischief. “But you looked so cute when you got angry… I couldn’t resist.”

Heat flared in my cheeks just as our taxi pulled up. Tobi looked positively smug. He loaded our suitcases into the boot like it was nothing, then handed the driver two addresses. I slid into the back seat, eager to see the new world outside the window.

Lenweil looked like something out of a forgotten fairytale. Narrow cobblestone streets wound past crooked stone buildings, each with their own distinct carvings etched into the façades. Vines curled up old brick walls, and iron-laced balconies overflowed with wildflowers. I watched it all pass by like a dream—dark looming churches with moss-covered graveyards, crooked alleys that disappeared into shadow, and lanterns that flickered even though it was still daylight.

“This place is unreal,” I whispered.

Tobi glanced sideways, smiling. “Wait ‘til you see where you’re staying.”

After a few more turns, the taxi turned onto a long tree-lined driveway. My breath caught. At the end stood a sprawling Victorian-era mansion, three stories tall, its stone walls crawling with ivy. A wide wraparound porch stretched the width of the front, and a small turret capped with a pointed roof rose from the side—shaped, unmistakably, like a witch’s hat.

This was Moira’s house?

My jaw dropped.

“I guess this is your Aunt Moira’s place then,” Tobi said casually, climbing out and heading for the boot.

I followed, still in awe.

“I could’ve gotten those, you know,” I said, reaching for my suitcase.

“I know,” he said, flashing that same smile that made my stomach flutter. “But I like taking care of you.”

Possessed by something bold, I stepped closer to him—close enough to feel the warmth radiating off his skin.

I looked up, heart thundering. “Tobi…”

He turned toward me, eyes softening. Before I could say anything else, the front door swung open with a creak. Aunt Moira stood in the doorway, barefoot, wearing a flowing skirt patterned with sunflowers and a mismatched paisley cardigan. Her long, silver-streaked hair was twisted into a loose braid, and multiple crystal pendants jingled around her neck as she stepped onto the porch.

“Well, well, well,” she said, beaming. “If it isn’t my long-lost niece.”

She held her arms out, and I rushed up the stairs into her hug. She smelled like patchouli, lemon balm, and something earthy I couldn’t place.

“You’re taller than I remember,” she said, stepping back to inspect me.

“I was five the last time we saw each other,” I laughed.

“Well, that explains it.” She turned toward Tobi. “And who’s this? Handsome, isn’t he.”

“Aunt Moira, this is Tobi. He helped me get here.”

“Mm-hmm,” she said, eyeing him like she could see through him. “Of course he did. Come on inside, you two. I’ve got a kettle on and a dozen questions to ask.”

She disappeared into the house, humming to herself.

Tobi grinned. “Your aunt is kind of amazing.”

“She’s definitely… something.”

We both laughed. I took one last glance at him, trying to decide if I should kiss him or just thank him again.

But instead, I said, “I’ll see you soon?”

“You’d better,” he replied, stepping backward down the stairs. “Or I’ll find an excuse to come looking for you.”

As I watched him climb into the taxi, my stomach flipped.

What was happening between us?

And why did I want it to never, ever stop?