CHLOE

So Cliché

Just as she was about to happily step foot on the plane, an unfortunate situation came up. Her flight was canceled, and she was sent back to the castle. She had a bad feeling about this.

This time, she was handed back gracefully, with no violence, no cuffs, and no security. It felt unbelievably weird.

Back in the castle, there he was—the arrogant airhead waiting. He invited her for a tea, and she was parched, so she swallowed her pride and accepted the offer.

They had a hell of a conversation, which mostly revolved around Magnus's bitterness about his upcoming engagement to a princess from a nearby country. Even though Chloe was completely uninterested, she just listened. After all, there was no harm in listening.

After all his drama, he finally concluded, and it was about time!

"My parents are set on this engagement," Magnus finally said, pushing a delicate porcelain cup aside. "But I won't have it. I need to give them a reason to pause, to back off." He looked directly at her. "I need to present a girlfriend to the royal family."

Chloe blinked. "And you've picked me to play this part?"

"Precisely," he confirmed. "Just to play, a little pretending, a little lie."

Chloe immediately thought of his previous accusations. "What's in it for me? You practically arrested me for being here."

Magnus, showing the slightest hint of a compromise, replied, "I will forgive you and pardon you for the alleged stalking and remove the threat of being blacklisted from Europe. That will be your compensation, in addition to expenses."

He is still dreaming, she thought, rolling her eyes internally at the "pardon." But the blacklisting threat was real.

"It will only be for a month," he added. "I will provide you with everything necessary."

She had a moment of weighing things up. Being blacklisted in all of Europe was far worse than spending a month pretending to be this arrogant prince's girlfriend. Against her better judgment, she agreed. She was stupid.

"Fine," Chloe sighed, defeated. "I'll do it. One month."

She called her parents back home. "Mom, Dad," she started, trying to sound excited. "I found a better job in Europe, so I won't be back for a brief period of time."

They were suspicious, but ultimately supportive. They wished her good luck with her life. I have such wonderful, and supportive parents, she thought, feeling a familiar pang of guilt for her deception. She had traded her simple life for a complex lie.

The first week of Chloe pretending to be a Prince's girlfriend was a total mess. Magnus introduced her to everyone, and she was at first treated coldly. The royal court and family members were skeptical about her—her nature, background, and, of course, her intentions.

But she didn't care. She was just there to contribute her talent in performance art.

For the record, she hadn't had any boyfriends before, so she didn't know exactly how she was supposed to act as a girlfriend. She was so full of flaws; she turned into a complete joke.

During a small, formal dinner, she used the wrong fork twice, laughed too loudly at a subtle joke, and at one point, even bumped a server carrying a tray.

Later, Magnus cornered her in a hallway. His face was a mask of controlled fury. "What was that performance, Chloe? Did you forget your job? You were sloppy, loud, and you insulted the Head of the Royal Guard by asking if his uniform was 'itchy.'"

Chloe shrugged nonchalantly. "It was an honest question. And as for the performance, I'm doing my best impression of a woman who just got snatched from her quiet life and forced to pretend to be someone else. Maybe a normal girlfriend doesn't know which fork to use for appetizers versus salad."

He grit his teeth. "You are a professional Cognitive Behavioral Therapist. You understand human observation. You are capable of learning basic manners."

He was furious, but he had no choice but to stick with her because she was the only one who could keep him away from his dreaded engagement. He realized she was a hopeless case until he hired a professional to train her and teach her royal manners and etiquette, which Chloe took very lightly, in a sarcastic note.

Slowly, she did adjust, and she became more refined... well, almost. She'd made changes, but she still managed to make a mess—often intentionally—just to piss off the Prince. She found it fun and hilarious.

During one of their training sessions, the etiquette coach, a severe woman named Frau Helena, admonished her posture. "Your spine must be straight, Ms. Jung! You must glide, not stomp!"

Chloe deliberately crossed her ankles and dramatically leaned against a column. "But gliding seems so inefficient, Frau. And if I stomp, people notice me faster. Isn't that what we're aiming for, Your Highness?" she asked Magnus with an overly innocent smile.

Magnus merely rubbed his temples, muttering, "It's a miracle the engagement hasn't been called off for entirely different reasons."

Perhaps people thought she loved this life of luxury now, but they were wrong. She was still simple deep inside. Even if she was enjoying a royal pampering, she wouldn't call it living a luxurious life since it wasn't her money she was spending, so she didn't feel guilty. It felt almost like she'd got herself a sugar daddy... a sugar prince, she often joked internally.

A royal life was simply not her style. She was clearly not princess material because she didn't do well at the lame, stuffy parties filled with so many royals. Every move was being watched and criticized; even the rhythm of her breathing had to be consistent, and her pulse had to be controlled. Laws, regulations, and standards—this was probably why some fairytale princesses left their palace and went on a free adventure. Party here and there... it was so suffocating.