Empress Jovine de Tristaine first realized she was in love on the day he proposed to her.

It didn’t matter if the marriage was arranged. Nor did her expectation of a loveless union. She would fall for him inevitably.

Born the sole daughter of the noble Rainer family, Jovine was infallibly considered to be an incomparable contender for Crown Princess, and blindly molded to one day be the wife to the heir of the Theolos Empire. With her mother’s covetous gaze on her daughter’s ascension and her father’s familiarity with the Emperor, there was no path as predetermined as her future nuptials.

She had first met the brooding Prince at the tender age of seven. Three years older and two heads taller, he had towered over her small frame, looking regal and threatening with harsh dark blue eyes that narrowed in on the timid girl in front of him. Since then, she couldn’t help but find fear in the cold presence of the boy she was meant to win over.

It wasn’t until they were older that she started noticing his alluring charm.

His brash personality hadn’t changed much, but he grew to be devastatingly beautiful with a luscious mane of dark hair, deep blue eyes that tracked her with unknown intent, and a sharpness that made him feel strong and dominating. But the most disastrous change was when he started to smile in front of her. It was the way he let his guard down that had her falling.

She could still remember the night it all changed.

On the night of the Winter Solstice Ball—and the eve of her fourteenth birthday—Jovine had snuck out of the Palace Ballroom with a smuggled napkin full of chocolates. After days of eating under the watchful eye of her mother, she couldn’t resist the seductive temptation of decadent sweets piled high in mountains of sugar and luxury. So, after discreetly plucking a few from the plate of her third brother, Edgar, she stuffed them into her napkin and made her way to the Gardens outside.

With only the night sky as her witness, Jovine had hidden behind a marble fountain and stuffed her face with rich chocolates that melted on her tongue. She had closed her eyes, letting a small cry of delight escape her lips as she enjoyed her dessert, surrounded by dazzling lights and endless green.

It wasn’t until she heard the soft padding of footsteps falling behind her that she realized her escapade would be short-lived. Swiftly discarding the evidence of her indulgence in the band of her velvet gown, she had turned to quietly retreat, only to find the Crown Prince staring at her inquisitively.

“Y-Your Highness,” she had sputtered, quickly lowering herself into a clumsy curtsy.

He was silent, and when she glanced up, she found his expression curious.

“What are you doing out here alone?”

With wide eyes, she had lied. “I-I wanted to…admire the stars.”

Richard pressed his lips together, and she feared he was displeased. Her cheeks flamed, flustered by the confrontation.

With a dramatic wave of her hand to the lightless sky above, she offered a wobbly smile. “The stars are as majestic as your presence tonight, Your Highness.”

A burst of laughter from the Prince had her lips parting in shock. It was the first time she had ever seen him smile. In fact, she never knew he had a small dimple in his left cheek. He was simply magnificent.

Richard had stepped into her as she remained frozen on the spot, enraptured by the rare sight of his brilliant smile to react to his sudden proximity. With a gentle touch, he caressed her face.

Her heart galloped furiously.

What was happening?

The gentle stroke of his thumb across her lips had her jerking back in surprise. Looking amused, he examined his stained finger.

“Hm,” he pondered. “Chocolate.”

Jovine had gasped in horror, the moment shattering with the realization of her oversight. She clapped her hands over her chocolate-stained mouth, wanting to burst out in tears from the embarrassment. Why did she have to devour those wretched, deliciously sinful sweets?

“I-I’m so sorry, Your Highness,” she had mumbled behind her hands, holding back the sting of shameful tears.

He had tilted his head, smiling at her reaction—except this time, she was no longer in a position to appreciate it. Despite the easiness on his face, Jovine wanted to crumble away into the earth until she could be safely hidden from her mortification. With quivering eyes, she squeaked out an excuse and scurried away.

Jovine had avoided him for the rest of the night. Turning her back on his amused glances across the ballroom and fleeing from any chance of contact, she was quite successful in her attempts until she was forced to face him as her family bid farewell to the Imperial Family.

When he came to say his remarks and she averted her eyes, he had caught her hand and placed a customary kiss on the back of it, something so unexpected she had jumped a little at the contact. With a discreet smile of mischief pressed against her heated skin, he slipped a small round object into her sweaty palm.

In the carriage ride home, she had discovered it to be a ball of chocolate covered in golden foil.

Jovine fell asleep smiling that night.

By the age of sixteen, she was no longer afraid of him. Instead, she adored him. Every aspect of his being called out to her with anticipated promise.

She couldn’t help but fall for the pitch of his reluctant chuckles during their brief conversations throughout the years, or the way he said her name and called her ‘Jovie’ as they grew more familiar. She loved how he told her stories from his childhood and the way he quietly loved his family. She looked forward to hearing about his day, and the plans he held for the Empire once he was crowned, just to be able to catch a glimpse of a life she could see herself sharing with him.

Most of all, however, she loved the way his gaze towards her changed as she grew into a woman.

A direct reflection of her mother, Jovine grew to be as stunning as the renowned Marchioness, who was celebrated for her beauty. With long golden hair that rivaled the gleam of the sun, turquoise eyes as clear as the Western Sea, and a gentle smile that softened the hearts of even the most glacial men, Jovine Rainer was a treasured gem of the Theolos Empire. Together, the two future monarchs made a most handsome couple, and Richard de Tristaine came to appreciate the vision his future wife became.

When she finally came of age, and the betrothal was pronounced after her twentieth birthday, the Prince—to her great surprise—requested a day to celebrate with her. So, after a peaceful day’s journey to the Summer Palace, he brought her to a hill surrounded by a field of yellow roses that overlooked the expanse of the ocean.

This place would later become her favorite escape, and this version of Richard—one who was carefree and young with the wind blowing through his hair and the sun coloring his cheeks—her most cherished memory of him. The image of him leaning back on a wool blanket, dressed down in a billowy white tunic that teased hints of bare skin, and grinning from ear to ear as he proudly presented a basket of baked goods and her favorite confection, felt like a sweet promise.

As Jovine happily munched on the talents of the Royal Patissier, she could feel the weight of his stare. She looked up to find him gazing at her in thought.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Richard murmured distantly, his thoughts still roaming elsewhere.

“You can ask me anything,” Jovine replied.

His lips twitched in amusement, but there was an unwelcome tension that intruded on their happy getaway.

“We’re officially betrothed now,” he slowly started.

She nodded, the direction of the conversation making her nervous.

He opened his mouth to continue, but he hesitated as his finger started to tap a fluttering rhythm on his knee—an anxious habit of his.

“You’ll make a fine Empress beside me one day, but there are sacrifices and burdens that come with being the bride of the future Emperor.”

Jovine swallowed the sour pastry she could have sworn was sweet.

Richard abruptly stood and extended a hand towards her. Taken aback by his sudden movement, she blinked at his outstretched palm.

Richard lowered to his knees, a sheepish chuckle puffing out of him as he reached out and caught her hand. He held on tightly as she stood and met her eyes with deep resolve. “I can’t promise to love you, but I do promise you this, Jovine Rainer. I will be a good, committed husband to you. In times of happiness and days of heartache, I will stand by you, as I hope you will with me.”

Jovine’s heartbeats fluttered in staccato beats as he knelt down once more with a yellow rose.

“Our betrothal may have been inevitable, but my mother did raise me to be a man of honor,” he said with a playful smile. “So, I ask you, dear Jovie. Will you marry me?”

Jovine was rendered speechless. Of all the things she expected, having Richard de Tristaine bare his heart to her was never one of them.

The Crown Prince of Theolos was not a warm man. He was cold and calculating.

Although he had defrosted in her company, it had taken years of obligatory contact. Yes, he had opened up in rare moments of vulnerability, but these small glimpses were always scarce and she couldn’t help but wonder if every move he initiated was a calculation made to uphold his reputation or secure the loyalty of the people he required.

Even his promises were carefully worded. He never promised his heart, but he unveiled enough of it to capture hers.

In the coming years, when she looked back on this day, she would wish she had realized it.

But none of it mattered to her yet—not when she saw the way he beamed at her with expectation in his eyes.

Because, while she may not have had his love, he had hers.

Unconditionally. Irreversibly.

So, foolishly, without another thought, she said, “Yes.”