Christopher heard Wellesley's words, and for a moment, he said nothing. Then quietly, resolutely, he spoke.
"I'm not taking anyone with me. Not even you. No guards. No spies. No one."
He turned to her, locking eyes. "You have to trust me. I'm not just the prince of this nation. I'm also a swordmaster. I can protect myself."
Wellesley opened her mouth to protest, but Christopher stepped closer. His voice softened.
"And I promise—I'll take care of myself. I'll return to you… in one piece. And when I do—"
He moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Pressing a light kiss on her shoulder, he whispered,
"—you'll welcome me back. Just seeing your smile gives me peace… and I want to keep this feeling for the rest of my life."
He leaned closer, his words a gentle vow.
"When I become the Emperor of this nation… you'll marry me. You'll be my Queen. And now you can't go back on your word, Wellesley, because you made me fall for you. So you'll have to take responsibility."
Wellesley's face flushed scarlet. She lowered her gaze, unsure what to say. Her thoughts scrambled, her heart racing.
Christopher, catching her reaction, smiled.
"You don't have to answer right now. Just… give me the answer when I return."
He stepped in front of her again, grinning with that familiar teasing glint.
"And yes, I know what you're thinking—'how did my Christopher become so good all of a sudden?' I'll tell you why. Because I started loving you."
Wellesley looked up, speechless.
Christopher tapped her nose playfully.
"And now stop glaring at me like that and feed me. Remember, I'm leaving after dinner. I won't be staying the night."
At his request, a servant was summoned to deliver the evening meal to his room. The two shared their dinner together in quiet comfort—no more plans, no more worries, just the comfort of shared presence.
After the last bite, Christopher stood and stretched.
"Well, dinner's over. Let's go."
"It's late," Wellesley said, her tone automatically slipping into caution.
"Exactly. No one will notice us. And don't worry, I'm not asking you to fly or anything. You're still good with spatial magic, aren't you?"
They left the estate and walked in silence to a secluded, overgrown corner of the palace gardens. There, concealed under the thick canopy, a teleportation circle was etched into the earth.
As suggested by the Prince, Christopher had decided not to bring his own horse. Instead, he would rent one once on the other side, to avoid suspicion.
Standing by the circle, Wellesley watched him approach the center. Her voice faltered as she spoke,
"Your Highness… you're really going alone."
The concern in her voice cut through the night like wind through leaves.
Christopher turned around and hugged her tightly.
He lowered his voice to a whisper, his words resting just against her ear.
"Wellesley… you have to believe me. Everything I'm doing, I'm doing for us. So please… let me go. And promise me—whatever happens here, you'll talk to me first before making any decision."
He paused. "I'm going to miss you… terribly."
And then, grinning playfully, he added,
"But I don't want to miss you too much. So don't you think it's only fair for me to do something excessive?"
Wellesley's breath caught in her throat.
How could he always do this—twist the moment, turn the tension into tenderness so easily?
Before she could respond, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. Then, slowly, he licked the spot.
"Ah—"
A soft, surprised moan escaped her lips before she could stop it. Her hand flew to his hair, gripping it reflexively. She didn't even understand the sensation—only that it overwhelmed her.
Without hesitation, she tilted her neck, silently offering more.
Christopher didn't disappoint. He kissed and sucked at her skin, one hand at her waist, the other cupping the back of her head. Each motion sent shivers down her spine.
"You're mine," he murmured between kisses.
"Your Highness…" she whispered breathlessly.
She knew she should stop him. He had to leave. But the moment had already taken them both. She melted in his arms, lost in the touch and warmth.
After sucking hard enough to leave a clear mark, Christopher pulled away and stared at the fresh red bruise with a smirk.
"Now that's my installment," he said mischievously.
Then, more seriously, he added,
"Wellesley, you know my position. You know I'll need allies. Relationships, marriages—sometimes they're tools. But among all the women I'll ever meet… you'll be the first. And the only one I'll come back to."
Wellesley's expression turned fierce with devotion.
She lifted her hands and clasped them behind his neck, staring deep into his eyes.
"I know that. I also know there'll be bees hovering around you constantly," she said with a smirk. "But I won't let jealousy cloud me. As long as you remember that all your roads lead to me, I don't mind sharing you."
She leaned closer. "I love you. I will stand by your side—always. I promise I won't take any decision without consulting you. And while you're away, your position here will remain secure. Always."
Christopher smiled, deeply moved.
"And you," he said, voice low, "are only mine. If I see anyone around you, Wellesley… I might do something dangerous."
He placed a final kiss on her forehead, then stepped into the center of the magic circle.
Moments later, light flared around him, and he was gone.
Wellesley stood alone now, staring at the fading glow.
Only the night remained.
But then—
A presence.
A man, cloaked in darkness, stepped from behind a hedge and approached her.
"We've done as you ordered," he said quietly. "Until tomorrow morning, no one will know that anyone came here tonight."
He paused, lowering his hood.
"But, ma'am… don't you think His Highness is behaving a bit… differently? Not just a little. A lot."
Wellesley didn't answer right away. Her eyes remained on the place where Christopher had disappeared.
Her fingers traced the faint mark he'd left on her neck.
And she smiled.