The hour when the sun sank low.

Freya finally made her move. To slip past her father’s eyes and ears, she crept out of the house through a gap in the back garden wall.

On the road to the fortress with her attendants, her heart began to lift for no clear reason. Her steps bounced lightly.

‘It’s just a little curiosity. It sounds like it’ll be fun.’

Getting into the fortress wasn’t difficult. The sentries who knew her face opened the gate without trouble.

It was late, so her attendants weren’t permitted inside and stayed outside the fortress to wait for her.

Freya turned away from the path leading to Haakon’s castle and headed toward the secluded estate.

Beneath the soft glow of a ring around the moon, Prince Aslan’s estate lay in quiet stillness.

Just before she stepped into the front yard, her heart suddenly gave a hard thud.

She stopped for a moment and fussed needlessly with her long braided hair and the silver ornaments hanging from her neck and ears.

‘What if he’s already asleep?’

She swallowed deliberately.

‘Am I nervous right now? Why am I nervous? Over a man like him.’

She breathed in, and cool night air flooded in. The tingling in her fingertips settled somewhat.

Doing her best to ignore the noise her heart was making, she knocked on the bedroom door.

She would normally have thrown the door open without a second thought, but tonight she knocked politely.

Tonight was the night she decided to have Aslan. She intended to show at least a minimum of courtesy.

‘It shouldn’t be time for bed yet.’

Not a sound came from inside the room. Was he ignoring her, thinking she was one of the maidservants angling for his bed?

In that case, it was probably best to open the door without permission, the way she always did. Waiting around for the door to open until dawn would be a problem.

Freya grabbed the door handle and stepped inside the room.

“Ah!”

Cold metal touched her throat. Was that a blade? The back of her neck prickled.

Then a voice, more startled than she was, followed immediately.

“Fr, Freya……?”

Aslan hurriedly hid the dagger behind his back and stepped away.

‘Was he just about to stab me?’

Freya stood frozen and turned her stiff neck with effort. In the dark room, she could see Aslan lurking like an assassin.

“Wh, what was that just now?”

“I’m sorry. You came in without permission, so I thought you might be someone dangerous.”

His sheepish scratching at the back of his head let her startled heart slowly settle.

That innocent, bumbling Prince Aslan couldn’t possibly have killed anyone before.

He was just trying to threaten her. Living as a hostage must have made him more guarded.

“You’re that on edge all of a sudden? I always barged in without asking.”

“It was daytime then, too…… And when I sat by the window, I could see you coming.”

The more Aslan’s voice shrank, the louder Freya’s grew.

“You gave me a real fright. Putting a blade to someone’s throat out of nowhere. What would you have done if I got hurt?”

“Are you hurt?”

Freya rubbed her own neck. The blade barely grazed her, but she glared at him and played it up.

“It stings a little. I might be bleeding.”

Hiding her scheming intentions, Freya tossed her braided hair back over her shoulder and lifted her chin.

“Take a look. Check if I’m hurt.”

Aslan stepped carefully closer and examined her neck.

They were quite close, yet she couldn’t hear him breathe. Was he so tense he forgot to breathe?

“It doesn’t look like you’re hurt, fortunately.”

“Look more carefully. I told you it stings.”

Aslan bent down again with a pained expression. Teasing the innocent man was entertaining.

How did a man who couldn’t even refuse something like this ever manage to give the maidservants a stern scolding? No matter how she thought about it, she couldn’t understand.

“It seems fine……”

Aslan lifted his gaze from her neck and swallowed dryly. His prominent throat bobbed hard.

“Be more careful next time. You should look before you swing a blade at someone.”

“I’ll be more careful.”

Nodding along, he noticed something different about her tonight. The elaborate jewelry and the deep-cut crimson dress brought a dancer to mind.

“But, what brings you here at this hour……?”

Freya narrowed her eyes into a smile and shrugged. Her upturned gaze had the playful look of a fox.

“I thought I’d try stepping beyond my parent’s boundaries.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Freya took one step forward and Aslan took one step back.

Even so, she had not the slightest worry that he would push her away.

She was full of confidence that a man this easy and guileless was hers to handle however she pleased.

‘And he’s always buried in love stories, isn’t he? He must long for romance.’

Men in Vaigon who read romance novels could be counted on one hand. Even men who said reading was a hobby only read strategy books or histories.

And yet here was a prince who read love stories.

‘Old-fashioned customs, plus a longing for romance.’

How beastly must the maidservants who stripped and threw themselves at him have seemed?

As it happened, Freya spent some time thinking up a plan to get a taste of Aslan.

“You said before that you found it interesting how Lindra took up a sword for the man she chose.”

“……“

“So I thought I’d do the same.”

“I’m not sure I……understand what you mean.”

Freya took another step closer. This time, Aslan didn’t step back. His dark, still eyes drew gradually nearer.

“I’ve come to like you, Prince. I want to take up a sword against the people standing in the way of my feelings. Like a shieldmaiden claiming the man she wants.”

The moment those words left her mouth, her heart began to pound with frightening force.

‘It’s just a line I dressed up to seduce Aslan. Calm down, heart. Why the fuss? It’s not like men are new to me…’

Freya swallowed and placed her hand on Aslan’s chest. He looked lean, but the muscle beneath was surprisingly solid.

His heartbeat came through her palm. Her confession seemed to be affecting him.

‘Thank goodness. Aslan feels something too…… Wait.’

But contrary to her expectations, Aslan removed her hand with a cold, set expression.

That composed face was unlike his usual self. The eyes looking down at her were equally unfeeling.

The reaction she expected didn’t come, and Freya began to feel anxious.

He was supposed to flush and go shy. Instead of being embarrassed, it felt like she was about to be thrown out.

“If you don’t want anyone to find out, I’ll only come at night. No one will catch us.”

“……“

“I can make sure nothing inconvenient happens. I’m not demanding that you return my feelings. I just want to be with you, Prince……”

She thought he’d fold easily if she tried to seduce him. She never planned to grovel like this.

‘How did it come to this?’

Why was she clinging to Aslan and making herself look desperate?

She couldn’t help it. Aslan’s expression as he looked down at her was too unfamiliar.

The way he looked right now, he didn’t seem like he would forgive her for her rudeness.

“Can you swear to what you just said?”

“What do you mean?”

“That you won’t demand I return your feelings.”

Freya winced, biting her tongue. Of all things, he wanted her to swear to that? Her pride stung.

“Of course. I can swear to it as many times as you like.”

But she hid her discomfort and gave a composed tilt of her chin.

‘He must think I’m terribly in love with him. I’m not that far gone.’

Even now, she could turn around and say she changed her mind.

The pounding in her chest was just because the novelty of being the one to make the first move was exciting.

So.

‘Eventually I’ll be the one saying those words to him. Aslan will be the one clinging to me.’

Don’t ask me for love. It was only curiosity. It was a good thing she drew the line early.

‘Just you wait.’

A quiet desire for revenge stirred in her. Aslan, whom she thought was easy, was behaving contrary to her expectations.

“Is that settled, then?”

Freya wrapped her arms around his neck. He was more than a head taller, so she had to rise onto her heels.

Their faces drew close enough that their lips nearly touched, and Aslan didn’t push her away.

Freya studied his expression with a tense look.

‘Is this a yes or a no?’

His response was lukewarm. But a reluctant agreement followed.

“……If that’s the case.”

A firm arm pulled her slender waist in. Her chest pressed against him and she drew a sharp breath.

Her lips were swallowed in an instant. Freya blinked stupidly, her heart nearly dropping.

The tongue that slipped between her parted lips moved with practiced ease.

‘Ingrone people are all about premarital chastity. Was that all a lie?’

Was this really the innocent, bumbling man she knew? He certainly acted like someone who never even held a woman’s hand.

Aslan, having tasted her full lips, slowly raised his head. His expression was calm and composed, unlike Freya, who was flustered and at a loss.

“It’s better to close your eyes when you kiss.”

“……Oh, I know.”

“Then let’s try that again.”

And with that, he kissed her again.

‘Is he teaching me right now?’

It was utterly absurd. And his instruction didn’t stop there.

“Try tilting your head to the side.”

Apparently unhappy with her standing there stiff as a board, he went ahead and corrected her posture.

“Your neck is bent at an uncomfortable angle. Would you like to sit on my lap?”

He said his neck hurt from bending down and told her to sit on top of him.

“Keep your arms around me. That position is more stable.”

Completely stripped of the upper hand, Freya followed his lead and let the kiss continue.

She was pulled along until the root of her tongue went numb, and then a sudden surge of indignation rose in her.

‘Is this because I confessed my feelings? Is that why he’s gotten so presumptuous?’