Love The Way He Lied

The morning light spilled through the high arched windows of the imperial palace, casting a golden sheen across the marbled floor. But Eyan Lucien Therald stood before his mirror with a look of pure irritation as he fastened the final button of his formal jacket.

"I hate this," he muttered under his breath, brushing down the dark navy coat he'd been forced to wear for the occasion.

With a final frustrated sigh, Eyan left the room, his boots echoing sharply down the grand hallway.

He hadn't made it far when a familiar voice called out.

"Your Highness," came the calm, composed tone of the palace doctor.

Eyan turned to see Dr. Aldren Fayne standing at the end of the corridor, a small rectangular bag in his hands.

"What is it now?" Eyan asked, folding his arms as the doctor approached.

Dr. Fayne gave a courteous bow before answering, "Are you heading to meet Duke Jeffrey's daughter, Lady Elinora?"

"Yes," Eyan replied, his voice tight. "Unfortunately."

"Then please take this with you." The doctor held out the bag.

Eyan eyed it warily. "What is this?"

"Your father asked me to deliver it to you this morning," Dr. Fayne said.

"Why?"

The doctor hesitated, then answered dutifully, "He instructed that you share this with Lady Elinora during your meeting."

Eyan narrowed his eyes, clearly suspicious. "Share it?"

Dr. Fayne simply nodded. "That's all I was told."

Still frowning, Eyan took the bag from the doctor's hands. It felt surprisingly light.

With the strange gift tucked under his arm, he resumed walking toward the carriage that awaited him outside the palace gates. As he stepped inside and the horses began their trot, Eyan stared down at the bag resting in his lap.

"What's in this thing?" he murmured, turning it slowly in his hands.

He didn't open it. Not yet. There was something about the secrecy that unsettled him. And his father's involvement only made it worse.

(The Meeting)

The scent of polished wood and expensive cologne filled the lavish hotel lounge, where velvet curtains blocked out the summer sun. Inside, seated stiffly across a golden-trimmed table, were two people who could not be more mismatched in energy.

Lady Elinora: dressed like a walking bridal brochure, with an overly tight corset and a hat the size of a tea tray.

Eyan: slouched slightly, arms crossed, looking like a man wrongly sentenced to death.

Lady Elinora sipped her tea with a dainty slurp. 

"So… Your Highness, do you enjoy poetry?"

Eyan blinked slowly. "Only when it rhymes… with silence."

There was a pause. Elinora chuckled politely, not quite sure if it was a joke. 

"I personally love romantic verses. Shall I recite one?"

"Only if it'll knock me unconscious for ten minutes."

She blinked. "I—I beg your pardon?"

Lady Elinora tried again. "Do you enjoy falconry? Or perhaps horse riding?"

"I enjoy watching people fall off horses."

She gasped softly, "Is that meant to be humorous?"

"No," he said. "It's meant to be honest."

Lady Elinora's fan fluttered nervously. "Have you… thought about marriage lately?"

Eyan tilted his head. "Every time I wake up and realize I'm not married, I thank the gods."

A teacup rattled in her hand.

One long, torturous hour passed. Eyan had answered her questions with the energy of a sleepy cat being interrogated.

Finally, mercifully, the meeting ended.

He escorted her to her carriage like a gentleman who was walking a stranger to the edge of a cliff. 

"Lady Elinora," he said with a tired smile. "May your journey home be filled with… quieter thoughts."

She looked mildly offended, but smiled anyway. "Until next time, Your Highness."

Eyan mumbled under his breath, "Hopefully not."

He climbed into his own royal carriage and dropped into the seat with a dramatic sigh.

"Finally!" he muttered, slumping. "That was the longest hour of my life.

He rubbed his temples. "So much talking. So many words. All wasted."

As the carriage moved, a bag slid off the seat beside him and landed near his feet with a soft thump.

Eyan looked down. "oh i forgot about this"

He picked it up. "There was a box Inside The bag"

"He opened the lid.

Inside were a dozen cookies, neatly wrapped in lace. A note from his father peeked out: "Share these with Lady Elinora. Bond over sweets."

Eyan stared blankly.

"Cookies? My father wanted me to—eat cookies… with her?"

He sniffed a cookie. "Smells… dry."

Then he suddenly straightened.

"Wait. Princess likes cookies…"

He stared at the box. Then at the window.

"Yeah. This feels like fate."

He knocked on the carriage ceiling. "Stop!"

The carriage halted in the middle of the road.

Coachman (from outside): "Is something wrong, Your Highness?"

Eyan flung open the door.

"I'm getting off. You go to the palace without me."

"Pardon?"

"I said leave. I have urgent business."

He hopped down dramatically, cookies in hand.

Coachman: "But sir—"

Eyan: "Go!"

The coachman, bewildered, left with the empty carriage.

Eyan stood alone in the road, wind ruffling his coat. He held the box like a man with a mission.

"Now," he said to himself, eyes shining, "let's go home."

And with that, he turned and headed toward the place he actually wanted to be.

To Eva.

The key turned in the lock with a soft click.

Disguised once again as Kyel, Eyan stepped quietly into the little home.

A sigh escaped his lips, deep and weary, as he glanced around the dimly lit room.

"Right… she's taking extra lessons today," he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck. "I forgot."

In his hand was a small bag, fragrant with a scent of butter and sugar. Without much thought, he crouched beside the couch and slid it beneath—hidden from view—then collapsed onto the cushions, one arm draped over his eyes

Sleep took him faster than he'd planned.

It was late evening when the knock came.

"Kyel?" a soft voice called out, gentle and familiar.

He stirred. His name, carried on that voice—her voice—cut through the haze of sleep.

He shot upright, blinking. The room was darker now, the lantern barely flickering.

He stumbled to the door and opened it.

There she stood—Eva—wrapped in her long cloak, cheeks flushed from the evening breeze, and smiling up at him with warmth.

"Sorry I'm late," she said with a soft laugh.

Without a word, Kyel stepped forward and pulled her into a tight embrace.

She blinked, surprised. "Kyel… what's wrong? You look exhausted today."

His arms only tightened around her. His voice was quiet, rough against her ear.

"Just let me hold you for a little longer… Ten more minutes. I had a really bad day."

Eva softened in his arms and nodded. "Okay," she whispered, hugging him back with equal tenderness.

After a moment, she pulled away and set her bag down.

"It's was getting late, so I brought dinner.

I'll take a bath first—then it's your turn. We'll eat after, alright?"

Kyel nodded, wordlessly watching her disappear into the bathroom.

After a While Eva emerged—fresh and glowing—she went to warm up the Food.

Kyel, obeying her gentle command, took his turn and disappeared into the bath.

Left alone in the quiet, Eva sat on the couch, stretching lightly. Her foot nudged something soft beneath her.

Frowning, she bent down and pulled out a small bag. Curiosity sparked in her eyes as she opened it.

"What's this…?" she whispered.

Inside was a neatly wrapped box.

"Cookies?" Her lips curved into a delighted smile.

"Did Kyel get these for me?"

She took one out, then another.

Soon, four cookies had vanished between her lips as she savored the sweet, buttery flavor.

Kyel stepped out of the bath a few minutes later, hair damp, wearing a simple white shirt and loose trousers. He glanced around the living room, brows furrowing.

"Princess?" he called.

The food was ready on the table. But Eva was nowhere to be seen.

A faint voice echoed from the bedroom.

"Kyel…"

He turned quickly and walked to the room—only to freeze in the doorway.

Eva was sprawled across the bed in her nightgown, her skin shimmering with sweat, hair clinging to her face. Her chest rose and fell in quick, uneven breaths. Her eyes were glazed, pupils dilated

"Eva?" he rushed to her side, kneeling beside the bed. "What's wrong?"

"I… I don't know," she whispered breathlessly.

"I feel… strange."

Kyel placed a hand to her forehead. No fever.

"You were fine just a while ago…"

She reached for him, fingers trembling. "I ate the cookies… the ones you brought me.

After that, I started to feel like this…"

Kyel's entire body tensed. "Cookies?" he echoed.

His eyes widened as the memory hit him—the cookies from the palace.

He gently laid her back on the pillows and stood up fast, searching the room frantically until he found the small, hidden magical communicator tucked beneath a floorboard.

He activated the crystal, and the glowing projection of Hans shimmered into view.

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"Hans, Go get Dr. Aldren Fayne here"

Hans "But Why.."

"Just do as I say"

"Okay" Hans Replied

Dr. Aldren Fayne "Yes Your Majesty, You Called"

"What was in the cookies you gave me this morning?" Kyel demanded.

The doctor blinked. "I—why, Your Highness?"

"Just tell me!" Kyel barked, voice sharp.

Then a hesitant reply: "I… I was told by Your Father not to mention it."

Kyel's eyes blazed. "Tell me or I swear I'll kill you where you stand."

The doctor paled. "A-Aphrodisiacs. There were aphrodisiacs in them…"

Silence.

"What?" Kyel hissed.