I'm Forbidden To Love You

Chapter 2

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Ryan could only roam around the castle like a movable statue for the past few days; he was getting anxious over the upcoming event.

He didn’t know how to tackle this situation. He was part irritated, part upset, and also a tad bit—only a tad bit—excited about it.

After getting a thorough scolding from his father and mother for leaving them for months without worrying about them, they reminded him that he was a Prince with duties, not an ordinary person who could roam around as he pleased. He should be aware of the dangers around the country and that anyone could capture him for ransom or, worse, assassinate him.

His sister threatened him with the ultimate weapon in the world—her puppy eyes, with her lips trembling, perfected ever since she realized how effective that was.

He had agreed to their demands and reassured them that he would never leave again.

He sighed, walking along the small path that led to one of the castle gardens, a place rarely visited except by the servants who maintained it.

It was one of his many hiding places ever since childhood. This garden was seldom visited because it was quite a walk away from the royal castle.

The garden was near the northern fort from where one could see the castle from afar. It was also one of Ryan’s favorite spots because you could see most of the castle in its majestic glory from there.

He took a seat on a bench under the shadow of trees and looked around, admiring the magnificent view the castle offered.

The castle’s outer walls stretched for miles and were the strongest among all, built to defend against external forces and keep invaders out. If you looked closely, you could see that the walls were built from different sizes and shapes of light-brown stones crafted by the ancestors of the Kingdom of Avera.

Multiple windows were scattered all over the outer wall surrounding the massive castle, along with crenellations. The crenellations allowed archers to launch arrows and artillery.

The castle had a huge gate in front with heavy wooden doors, a drawbridge, and a moat—the only way to enter if you didn’t know any secret passages.

Ten solid towers were built in different spots to provide an ideal defense, forming a barrier around the castle. They were connected by large and vast walls, considered the inner walls, with windows all around for archers and artillery.

The state apartments—rooms used by royalty—were built rectangularly along the southern side of the castle. Majestic hills stood behind as a natural defense, providing an extra layer of security.

The state apartments were constructed with two wards in mind. The upper ward, a private ward, was dedicated entirely to the King and his immediate royal family—where their rooms were located. The lower ward consisted of the kitchens, a grand hall for the King where he held court for the public, and rooms for foreign dignitaries.

Usually, the view of the majestic castle and his fascination for architectural wonders would keep his mind away from worrisome thoughts, but today it seemed to betray him.

Ryan had no idea about women of any kind. The only women in his life were his mother and his sister. He didn’t know what sort of girl he wanted as his future wife—if he even wanted a wife. He was confused about everything, and the over-pampering by his parents made him feel suffocated in the castle.

It wasn’t that he disliked their affection, but after spending so long freely roaming wherever he wanted, eating however and whatever he wanted without worrying about etiquette or table manners, he now felt trapped. The stuffy royal clothes—especially in the summer—didn’t help at all.

“I knew I would find you here, my Prince.”

He looked up from where he was sitting to find that his friend Norman had found him, just like he always did during their childhood. Ryan would often come here to sulk, avoiding royal gatherings, and Norman would always find him.

Norman wouldn’t dare call him anything but his title once they were inside the castle, and Ryan missed the carefree friend who followed him everywhere when he left the palace months ago.

“Nora, how come you can find me all the time? I’ll have to find new hiding places just to hide from you.”

Ryan patted the empty seat beside him, offering Nora a place to sit, but to his disappointment, Norman ignored it—standing guard in his full knight attire with armor and sword.

“I will follow you anywhere, my Prince.”

It was teasing yet assuring—comforting him that he wasn’t alone.

“What seems to trouble you, my Prince?”

Ryan sighed, still staring at the castle. He didn’t want to discuss this with his Knight—he wanted his friend, someone to listen to his worries.

When he turned around, Norman had already sat beside him, smiling encouragingly. Knowing he couldn’t ask more of Nora than this, Ryan decided to share his innermost vulnerabilities.

“What am I going to do, Nora? I don’t want to please some princess and woo her—spending my time running after her. What if she is manipulative? How am I supposed to know their inner thoughts? I am completely uncertain about this.”

“You already knew what is expected of you, my Prince.”

“I know, Nora… but I am not comfortable mingling and attending these tiresome parties. Can you imagine me spending months courting someone? Trying to woo a girl? Do you know there will be balls held after a few weeks?”

Norman couldn’t help but chuckle at the horrified expression on his Prince’s face at the mention of a ball.

His Prince had always been particular about whom he interacted with. He preferred books and sword fighting over social gatherings. He had always been that way.

“Don’t laugh at me, Nora.”

Norman shook his head with a smile.

“Why do you always expect things to go negatively, my Prince? Think of it this way—you might find her. The one who completes you, understands you, supports you. If you're lucky, you might find your soulmate.”

His Prince’s dubious stare made Norman swallow and realize how cheesy he sounded. His ears reddened, and he quickly tried to cover it up.

“Don’t look at me like that, my Prince. You will find a girl you like. Then I’ll have to come looking for you in hiding places like this when you sneak around with her.”

Ryan rolled his eyes and grinned slyly.

“I didn’t expect you to be such a romantic, Nora. ‘The one who completes you’, ‘soulmate’, and whatnot.”

Nora clenched his fists to stop himself from punching him. Here, Ryan was his Prince first before his friend. He gritted his teeth and glared quietly.

“My Prince, let’s leave before sunset—before your mother decides to send a search party thinking you’ve escaped the castle again.”

With that, he got up to leave, ignoring Ryan’s protests of “Come back here!” and “That was uncalled for!”

Ryan fiddled with his sleeves. He usually avoided full sleeves, but he had to grit his teeth and endure it today.

His dark blue silk tunic irritated his skin. Ryan knew it was just his imagination—nothing could be softer—but he still couldn’t admire it today.

His mother was so excited about this gathering that she dressed him up as his sister used to dress her dolls when she was a child. He sympathized with those dolls now.

His sister enthusiastically teamed up with their mother to find the “perfect” outfit. He could vividly remember his mother’s exact words: *“The first impression is the best impression, Ryan.”*

His sister insisted that the dark blue tunic and leggings—thank the heavens it wasn’t trousers—would highlight the beauty of his hazel eyes. *Her* words, not his. Don’t think of him as vain.

His mother gifted him a red cloak with exquisite golden lacework and rich embroidery, claiming it would make him stand out among the other princes.

He stopped fiddling and entered the hall where princes from neighboring kingdoms and lords of great houses had gathered to meet princesses and noble ladies.

The minister in charge of the event separated arrivals into two different weeks. One week for the princes and lords to arrive and settle, and the following week for the princesses and ladies to arrive—after thorough checks from royalty to servants—ensuring no spies or assassins entered.

They were given time to adjust their allocated rooms to their tastes, with translators provided if necessary. They couldn’t afford to offend any guest—this was a sacred event, and the hosting nation must display utmost hospitality. It was also a discreet way to flaunt wealth.

All these finely dressed men gathered in the hall were waiting to greet the arrival of the princesses and noble ladies.

This was like an introductory session—to observe who all were here, to find anyone attractive, or to build political alliances through marriage.

They were already quietly chatting, and no one noticed Ryan’s entrance—which he was grateful for.

As soon as he stepped inside, he took off his outer cloak and handed it to Nora. He could hear Nora snickering, but he ignored it.

Even though it was a loving gift from his mother, there was no way he was wearing it in this heat. The full sleeves already made him sweat. Luckily, his sister had doused him in the imported foreign perfume she had brought.

The golden brooch with amber and ruby gemstones his father had given him for the occasion felt like a sword digging into his chest. Maybe he shouldn't have abandoned royal life for months—he had grown too comfortable living like a commoner, and now he was suffering because of it.

He bowed to the King—his uncle—who sat on a raised platform to view and greet attendees and commence this *sacred* courting session. Ryan forced himself not to roll his eyes.

He had already received a stern lecture three weeks earlier from his uncle about leaving the royal family without notice. That had been unpleasant enough.

The one comforting thing was that Norman, also from a noble family, had to take part in this event as well.

He slipped into a darker corner behind a pillar, away from his father and most familiar faces. After greeting countless lords, his neck felt like it might break from all the bowing.

The musicians played softly despite the noise, but what truly tempted him were the platters of food in various cuisines.

He had skipped breakfast, and his stomach was growling loudly.

The delicious aroma didn’t help. Fruits, nuts, salads, drinks—both fruity and alcoholic—decorated the banquet tables. Fresh bread, salads, and light food were provided even after the separate breakfast meal served earlier to each guest based on their preferences.

He was almost tempted to grab a plate of cheesecake and strawberry tart—those desserts looked irresistible. But he ignored them with a heavy heart and moved further into the shadows.

He quietly snickered at how most men constantly glanced towards the entrance.

But his amusement vanished when someone bumped into him. He steadied the figure and bowed deeply, only to be stopped midway.

“My Pri—”

Ryan was cut off as the person urgently shushed him.

“Not here, Ryan.”

“But, my Pri—”

“Shush. Not that title. Call me by name, Ryan.”

Ryan was amused to see the Crown Prince hiding with him. One of the few people who called him by his name—and a good friend.

Ivor was a year younger than him, despite his father marrying earlier. Unable to have a child for years, his parents considered Ivor a miracle baby. But the complications of his birth had left the Queen bedridden, and she passed away a year later despite every medicinal effort. The King—Ryan’s uncle—remained devoted to her memory, never remarrying.

Ryan’s mother always had a soft spot for Ivor, and he was almost like a younger brother to Ryan.

“Why are you hiding, Ivor?”

“Same reason as you.”

Ryan grimaced in sympathy. *He* wasn’t the Crown Prince—so skipping marriage this year would only earn a reprimand. But Ivor **had** to choose a bride and eventually produce an heir. His duty was heavier.

The announcer rang the bell by the door to catch everyone’s attention. He declared that the event had begun and would now introduce the princesses and ladies one by one—with their names and their countries.

Ryan felt like running away immediately—and Ivor’s matching expression of dread sealed their shared fate.