The Prince and His Princess

The Look

Lila’s POV

The next morning, I woke to sunlight and the soft sound of water running. Tobi was in the bathroom. I got dressed quickly, not bothering with anything fancy. I didn’t plan to leave the palace—or my comfort zone—anytime soon.

There was a knock on the door. I opened it to find a palace staff member holding a small note.

Come for a walk with me? I promise no royal nonsense. Just fresh air and maybe some gossip. ~Ophelia

I stared at the handwriting for a moment. It was neat but informal, slightly loopy—unexpectedly friendly. I tucked the note into my pocket before Tobi could ask.

I wasn’t sure what I expected when Prudence handed me the note, but it wasn’t this. The eastern gardens were already warm with morning sun, and a small group had gathered by the fountain: three women in elegant yet breezy dresses, all mid-conversation, and one man standing just apart from them.

Broderick.

He turned as I approached, a charming smile sliding easily across his face. His hair was perfectly messy, his jaw clean-shaven, his posture just casual enough to seem disarming. He looked like someone who knew exactly how attractive he was and how to use it.

“Princess,” he greeted with a bow. “A pleasure.”

“Lila,” I corrected, trying not to squint in the sunlight.

He stepped aside, gesturing toward the women. “Your company awaits.”

Among them, Ophelia smiled brightly. “You came.”

I returned the smile, surprised at how happy I was to see her.

“I figured it was time I stopped hiding,” I said. “And this seemed... safe.”

“Dangerously safe,” Ophelia teased, linking her arm with mine. “Which is the best kind of safe.”

Broderick took up the lead as we started along the winding paths between hedges and blooms. He made offhand comments about which plants were imported, which fountains had enchanted coins at the bottom, and which flower beds were rumored to be cursed by disgruntled nobles.

It was silly. It was distracting. It was the first time I laughed without forcing it.

“Do you give all your tours with this much flair?” I asked him as he leaned theatrically over a pond to ‘check for ghosts.’

“Only when I’m trying to impress someone,” he replied with a wink.

The other women giggled behind us. Ophelia rolled her eyes playfully and tugged me away from him, whispering, “Don’t fall for that smile. He’s allergic to commitment and mildly obsessed with his own reflection.”

“Duly noted.”

And yet… I found myself smiling anyway.

After the walk, I returned to the room in a strange mood—lighter, somehow. Like maybe I was beginning to find small pieces of myself again. Not all of me, not the brave girl I remembered being once, but enough to keep breathing. Prudence helped me out of the walking dress and into something comfortable. She didn’t comment on the faint smile I wore, but I could tell she noticed.

I wasn’t ready to talk to Tobi. Not yet. But I didn’t feel the dread I used to when I saw the door to our shared chambers. He wasn’t there when I entered. The couch was neatly made. The fire had burned low. I curled up on the bed without changing, letting my thoughts swirl like water down a drain.

Had that been friendship? Was Ophelia what a friend felt like? Easy jokes and shared glances, no judgment? It felt like a beginning.

Maybe everything here didn’t have to hurt.

Tobi’s POV

“She’s settling in,” Catherine said, walking beside me through the east corridor.

“I know,” I replied, though I wasn’t sure if that was relief or jealousy knotting in my chest.

“She was laughing with Ophelia and Broderick today.”

That stopped me short. Broderick? The man had charm, sure—but he wielded it like a weapon.

“She seemed relaxed,” Catherine added, either missing the flare of irritation in my jaw or choosing to ignore it.

“She never laughed like that with me.”

“That’s because you tried to own her before you ever knew her,” she said softly. “Let her find herself, Tobi. If she chooses you after that, then it will be real.”

I didn’t respond. I just kept walking.

Because she was right.

And I hated that.

Lila's POV

Ophelia was clinging to Broderick’s arm like her life depended on it, practically purring as she begged him. “Come on, Brody, just this once. Take us to the Speakeasy.”

I had no idea what the Speakeasy even was, but from the way she said it—teasing and gleeful—it sounded exactly like the kind of place I hadn’t seen since I left home.Broderick looked smug, glancing between us with that irritatingly charming smirk.

“You want me to sneak you into a club? You two realize that’s not exactly something I’m supposed to be doing?”

“It’s not sneaking if we walk in like we belong,” Ophelia replied sweetly, flashing him a dazzling smile. “Which we will. With you on our arm, no one will question it.”

I hovered a step behind them, suddenly unsure of my place. This wasn’t a world I understood—secret clubs, high-ranking escorts, political risk. I didn’t even have money. Ophelia turned to me and lit up like it was all already decided.

“Lila, trust me. You’re going to love it. Music, dancing, real drinks. Not that fermented herb mess they serve in the palace. It’s the closest thing to the human world I’ve found.”

My heart ached just hearing that. I hadn’t realized how much I missed those things—crowded rooms pulsing with energy, friends screaming lyrics in your face, laughing with a drink in hand, not worrying about who you were supposed to be.

“I can’t pay for anything like that,” I admitted, crossing my arms. “I don’t have money.”

Ophelia scoffed. “Please. As if I’d let that stop us. You think I’m letting you show up in one of those sad little palace dresses?” She bumped her shoulder against mine. “I’ve got everything covered.”

I looked at Broderick. He didn’t say yes, but he didn’t say no either.

“Okay,” I said, before I could talk myself out of it.

Later that day, Ophelia dragged me down a twisted lane that barely looked like a street. We ducked beneath a wall of overgrown ivy into a tailor’s shop tucked into the stone like it had grown there. The air inside was warm and smelled like cedar and lavender. Rows of fabric lined every surface—satins, lace, glimmering sheer material I couldn’t even name.

“This is it,” Ophelia said, spinning slowly. “This is where we get the look.”

I stood awkwardly by the door while she started tearing through bolts of fabric, holding up swatches of black leather, silver netting, and the thinnest shimmering silk I’d ever seen.

“We’re talking dangerous, devastating, unapologetic,” she grinned. “Think ‘I run this kingdom and don’t care who knows it.’”

I blinked at the fabrics laid out. Back at the palace, every woman wore corsets and high necklines and floating sleeves. These were nothing like that. These looked… familiar. Like back home. Like something my friends would have dared me to wear for a night out.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” I said, lowering my voice.

Ophelia turned to me, her expression softening.

“You’ve been trying so hard to fit in here. Just for one night, can’t we be ourselves? Real music. Real fun. No politics, no titles. Just us.”

Something in me cracked. I was tired of constantly adjusting—my tone, my posture, my clothes. Of feeling like I was always being watched, judged, tested.

“Alright,” I whispered.

The tailor, who looked like she’d never seen anything like Ophelia’s fashion taste, hesitated before nodding and pulling out a measuring ribbon. Ophelia grinned, clearly thrilled, and I just… let it happen. Let myself be excited. When she held the black leather up to my torso, I actually saw it. A version of me I hadn’t been in so long—bold, confident, me.

As we stepped back into the fading light of day, fabric carefully bundled in our arms, I felt giddy. Light. Like I might finally breathe again. Ophelia chattered the whole way back, linking arms with me like we were lifelong friends. And maybe we would be. Maybe she really got me. She was human. She understood the ache I felt for the world I’d left behind.

I didn’t notice how Broderick was watching me. Or the way Ophelia’s smile stayed just a little too bright. I just felt like I wasn’t alone anymore.