Ayla stared at him, unease settling deep within her chest. The rumors hadn't exaggerated—if anything… calling him a mad prince was far too generous. The quiet stretched. Ayla briefly considered walking out and never returning.
Then— "You're thinking of leaving aren't you?"
Ayla stiffened. He tilted his head slightly, studying her as though she were a newly acquired toy. Interesting.
"You'd make an excuse," he continued calmly. "Something polite. Then you'd turn and run." Her fingers curled at her sides. "You'd make it past the corridor," he added.
A pause. "…before you're caught." The silence that followed felt suffocating. How did he know?
"You talk too much for someone who makes no sense," she said, her voice steady despite the tension creeping up her spine. A faint smile touched his lips. Not warm. Not kind. Just… knowing. "Then allow me to simplify it for you." He took a step closer.
Every instinct in her body screamed at her to move."Marry me." No theatrics this time. No mockery. Just quiet certainty.
"…You're insane."
"Perhaps."
He didn't deny it. "But it is the most efficient option."
Her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?" "I need you to investigate something for me." Ayla blinked. Of all the things she expected— That wasn't one of them.
"And you chose marriage as your method of recruitment?" she asked, unimpressed. A pause. "Am I not allowed a little amusement?" Her expression flattened. "If this is your idea of amusement, I'm declining."
"That's unfortunate," he said lightly. "You would have been useful." Her irritation sharpened. "You still haven't explained anything." "Very well." He stepped back slightly, as if indulging her.
"I want you to investigate my empire." Ayla's brows furrowed. "That's… vague."
"Nobles behaving strangely. Territories reporting inconsistencies. Vampires and other creatures dying in bizarre ways." His expression darkened slightly. "…and incidents that should not exist." A beat of silence. Ayla's attention sharpened. "…You mean supernatural." It wasn't a question.
For the first time, something in his expression shifted.
Approval. "I was right about you," he murmured. "You didn't dismiss it." Ayla exhaled slowly. "Even if I accept that, I still don't see why marriage is necessary." "Access," he said simply. She blinked. "Royal grounds. Restricted archives. Noble estates." He spoke as though listing minor inconveniences.
"Places you cannot reach with your current status." Her expression shifted—just slightly. He noticed. Of course he did. "And," he added, almost as an afterthought, "it makes it easier to protect you." "And what do I get in return?" she asked carefully.
"You gain protection." A pause. "For you," he continued, "but more specifically, your family." Her breath caught—barely. "Especially your father."
Silence. His expression sharpened, something colder settling beneath it. "Because whether you realize it or not…"
A pause. "…you are already being watched."
The words settled heavily in the air. Ayla didn't respond immediately. Her mind moved quickly—but no matter how she turned it, nothing in his expression suggested he was lying. That, more than anything, unsettled her.
"…And you expect me to believe marrying you fixes that?" she asked finally. "Not fixes," he corrected lightly. "Controls." Her gaze hardened. "You're assuming I'd agree."
"No," he said calmly.
"I'm assuming you'll consider your father's situation."
Ayla almost laughed. Almost. "You're insufferable." "And yet," he replied smoothly, "you have no other option."
Her fingers curled tighter. She hated it. But he wasn't wrong. "…Why me?" she asked. "You could have chosen someone more… agreeable—someone like Unveil." This was a resort, recommending someone who was apparently better, even if he was a fraud.
"Men aren't particularly my preference," he said flatly. She stared at him. "…That's not what I meant." "I'm aware." She clenched her jaw in frustration. Then his tone shifted—subtle, but deliberate. "You have a reputation." Ayla's attention sharpened. "I'm sure many investigators do." "Not like yours." He stepped closer.
"Unsolved cases. Disappearances. Incidents the crown quietly buried."
"You have a habit of finding answers where there shouldn't be any." Silence.
Ayla felt it then—that shift in the air. This wasn't about marriage. It was about her. "…You've been looking into me," she said quietly. "Of course." No denial. No apology. Ayla exhaled slowly.
So that was it. He already knew where to apply pressure. "…And when this is over?" she asked. He smiled. "Then I suppose we'll divorce."
"Assuming you'd want to." She frowned slightly. Why wouldn't she?
"Then does that mean we have an agreement?" he asked, faint amusement returning to his voice. Ayla hesitated. She didn't want this, yet he wasn't leaving her with many options.
"…Wouldn't this raise suspicion?" she asked instead. "A sudden marriage?" He clasped his hands together thoughtfully. "Then we'll simply have to create a convincing story." Her eyes narrowed. "…What kind of story?" "The kind people prefer," he said lightly. "A love story." Ayla stared at him, clearly unimpressed. She wondered how he would lead his empire with that brain.
"…You cannot be serious." "On the contrary," he said. "People are far more willing to believe nonsense when it is romantic." She exhaled sharply.
"…Do you expect me to trust you?"
"No." "But it would be easier if you did."
The answer was immediate. Simple. Honest. That… almost made it worse. A pause stretched between them. Ayla hated that there was no clean way out of this.
Every angle she considered led back to the same problem—her father, the crown, and the man standing in front of her who somehow knew too much. If offended, he would probably make her already dire situation worse.
"…This is insane," she whispered. "Agreed," he replied. That almost made her laugh. Almost. She exhaled sharply through her nose.
"…I don't trust you."
"Understandable," he said.
Her eyes narrowed. "And I don't like this." "Noted."
"…But," she continued reluctantly, "I don't have a better option right now." Silence. She hated that sentence the most. "…Alright," she said finally. Not willing. Not convinced. Just… choosing an option that would hopefully benefit her.
His expression lightened. "Good." The word felt heavier than it should have. But she didn't take it back. She couldn't afford to. His gaze flickered—just slightly. Satisfied."We'll do this your way," she continued. "You protect my family. I play the part of your princess and get access."
"And I get results," he added. The terms settled between them. Unspoken. Understood.
A deal. He turned to leave, but stopped midway. "I'll send one of my men to hand you the contract and the plan. Oh—and try not to die before the wedding," he added before cheerfully waving and walking away. Ayla didn't respond. She only watched as he disappeared beyond the doorway, stunned.
What had she gotten herself into? Never in her wildest dreams did she ever think she would make a deal with a vampire prince.