The Prince and His Princess

No scent. No trace

Tobi’s POV

She wasn’t in the guest quarters.

Not in the gardens. Not in the kitchens. Not in any of the places she might’ve gone to be alone.

There was no scent.

No trace.

Nothing.

The panic had started small—an ember—but now it roared, wild and consuming. Something was wrong. I could feel it like the bond humming under my skin, flooded with her absence.

I didn’t hesitate.

I stormed into my parents’ suite without knocking.

“Tobias—what—” Father groaned from the bed, rubbing his face as he sat up.

“Lila’s gone,” I said. My voice was tight, urgent. “Mother, did she come to you last night?”

She was already rising from bed, reaching for her robe. Her calm was unnerving—like she was holding back judgment, waiting for more details before she chose a side.

“What do you mean she’s gone?” she asked.

“She didn’t come back to our room. She’s not in the guest quarters. I checked the gardens, the kitchens, every corridor she might’ve walked. There’s no trace of her.”

Father grunted as he got out of bed. “Track her scent. She can’t have gotten far.”

“I did,” I snapped. “There’s nothing. It’s like she disappeared.”

“Then someone helped her,” he muttered.

“What happened last night?” Mother asked, voice quiet.

I paused. Shame licked at my spine.

“There was… an incident,” I said carefully. “At the Speakeasy.”

“Gods, Tobias,” my father snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What kind of incident?”

“Some asshole touched her. I reacted. I didn’t mean to cause a scene.”

“But you did,” Mother said softly.

I didn’t answer.

Father grabbed a shirt from the back of a chair and threw it on. “Then it’s your mess to clean. Quietly.”

“I don’t want quiet,” I said, voice rising. “I want her found.”

“And I want to avoid headlines like ‘Prince’s Mate Flees Palace After Public Outburst’,” he barked back. “So calm yourself and think.”

I stared at him, anger and desperation clawing at my chest. He didn’t get it. She’s not just a symbol. She’s my mate. Mother walked past us both, picking up her comm tablet.

“We’ll start with the guards on duty. Discreetly. If anyone saw her leave, they’ll have logged it.”

“And if no one saw her?” I asked, barely able to get the words out.

“Then we start assuming someone helped her.”

The bond between us was open—painfully open. All I could feel was her distance, like she was pulling further and further from me.

I didn’t need a royal order. I didn’t need a search party.

I just needed her.

Oscar’s POV

The house was still.

The only light came from the fire and the soft glow of the kitchen lamp Henry had left on, casting warm shadows across the floor. I leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching him move around the kitchen barefoot and anxious.

Lila was asleep on the couch, curled under one of my mother’s old quilts, her face relaxed in a way I hadn’t seen in weeks. She looked exhausted. Heartbroken. Peaceful.

Henry poured water into a glass and placed it gently on the floor beside her, then adjusted the blanket again even though it hadn’t slipped. His hands moved carefully, like touching her too roughly might shatter something.

“She didn’t even take her earrings off,” he whispered.

“She’s asleep, Henry,” I said. “She’s not going to freeze to death if you stop tucking her in for five minutes.”

He shot me a glare. “She’s been through hell. And he just keeps dragging her back into it.”

I sighed, pushing off the doorframe. “I know you hate him. But this isn’t all Tobi’s fault.”

“Isn’t it?” Henry snapped. “She trusted him. She chose him. And look how that ended.”

“She also stormed out, alone, in the middle of the night without telling anyone. She could’ve been hurt. That wasn’t smart.”

Henry stood up, jaw tight. “You’re calling her stupid now?”

“I’m saying she’s acting out of emotion, not logic,” I said, keeping my voice calm. “And so are you.”

He crossed his arms. “Why are you defending him?”

“I’m not. I’m just saying it’s not as simple as ‘Tobi bad, Lila angel.’ They’re both a mess right now.”

Silence stretched between us. Henry turned back to the couch, brushing a strand of hair from Lila’s cheek. “She doesn’t need neutrality. She needs someone on her side.”

I didn’t respond right away. I understood the instinct—protect her, shield her, give her a space where she didn’t have to be strong. But sometimes, love meant saying what people didn’t want to hear.

“Fine,” I said eventually. “You can be her shield. I’ll be the one who keeps things from falling apart.”

Henry didn’t answer, but I saw the way his jaw shifted—clenched, held tight. We weren’t going to agree on this. Not tonight.

Outside, the sky was starting to lighten.

Lila was asleep. Henry had finally nodded off in an oversized arm chair beside her, curled up like a guard dog, one hand still resting near her arm. The fire was low. The clock ticked.

I stepped outside.

The cold air bit at my skin as I moved away from the front porch, phone already in hand. I walked far enough that no one could overhear—not that I thought either of them would wake. I found Catherine’s name in my contacts and tapped. She picked up after one ring.

“Oscar?” Her voice was quiet, calm. But there was something beneath it—coiled tension.

“She’s safe,” I said softly. “Lila. She’s here.”

I heard the exhale on the other end.

“Thank the goddess. Is she alright?”

“She’s sleeping. She’s not hurt,” I said. “But she’s... shaken. She needed space.”

“I take it you didn't call Tobias first.”

“No,” I said. “And I don’t think she would have wanted me to”

There was silence again.

“She snuck out without a trace,” Catherine said eventually. “We thought—well. It’s been a long night.”

“I figured you deserved to know. That someone should.”

“I appreciate it, Oscar,” she said. “More than you know.”

I hesitated. “She’s not ready to talk to him. Please don’t send guards or messengers. Just... let her breathe.”

“I won’t,” she said. “But I am coming.”

I stiffened. “Tonight?”

“In about later today. I’ll be discreet. I just want to see her with my own eyes. Speak to her as… not just the Queen, but as a mother.”

I sighed. “Alright.”

“Thank you, Oscar. And… if she decides not to return with me, I’ll respect that. But she needs to know she’s not alone.”

“I’ll let her know you’re coming.”

“I’d prefer you didn’t,” Catherine replied softly. “Let her rest. Let her wake up in peace, at least once.”

I paused, then nodded, even though she couldn’t see it. “Understood.”

She hung up first.

I stood in the field a moment longer, staring out at the grey sky lightening with dawn. Then I slipped back inside, heart pounding a little harder than it should’ve been.