Prince Michaelli had never summoned Tuk to his private chamber before. So when his butler, Ethan, wordlessly led her to the prince’s door, opened it, and then walked away without explanation, she was left standing there, confused.

Tuk hesitated at the entrance. The room was silent. Weird.

"Uhm… Your Highness?" she called out, taking a cautious step inside. Nothing. "Hello?"

Still no answer.

That guy… He calls me here and then doesn’t even show up? What was she supposed to do—wait? Leave?

She sighed. No, she was told to be here, so she might as well stay.

Relaxing slightly, she took a moment to survey the room. It was simple yet elegant, masculine but refined. Black furniture dominated the space, accented with gold and white. A few subtle hints of red added a striking contrast. Okay, five stars for color coordination. I respect the aesthetic.

She wandered around, peeking curiously at her surroundings. Where the hell is he? With no sign of the prince, she eventually plopped down onto the couch.

Minutes passed. Silence.

"..."

Her fingers tapped rhythmically against the armrest. This is so boring.

After a while, she got up and walked to the door, hoping to find Ethan or at least someone outside.

Nothing.

Her brow furrowed. Shouldn’t a prince’s chamber be swarming with guards? Then again, who would dare mess with him? Tch. Must be nice to be that powerful.

With no other choice, she went back inside and sat down.

"I’ll wait a little longer. Maybe he had an emergency or something," she muttered to herself.

But her eyes kept wandering. That’s when they landed on a wall of bookshelves.

“…”

She glanced around, just to be sure no one was watching, before standing up and walking over. Would checking a few of his books without permission get me in trouble? Probably. But curiosity was already winning.

She pulled out a random book, expecting something boring—laws, military strategies, maybe some dull historical records.

Instead…

“…Hah?”

She blinked. Flipped the page. Checked the title again.

It was a romance novel. And not just any romance—an adult romance.

Her lips parted in disbelief. No way…

Quickly, she grabbed another book.

Then another.

Tragic love stories. Forbidden romances. Sibling love. Every single book had one common theme: love and Romance

"So this is how he ‘learns the heart,’ huh? Should I be worried?" she scoffed, shaking her head.

Her gaze shifted toward the prince’s bedside table, where another small stack of books rested. Some were neatly arranged, while others looked recently read.

Curious, she picked up the topmost book. The Guardian’s Heart. A family-related story, maybe? The next one: A Mother’s Embrace. Then she grabbed the last one—Caging My Love with roses.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

Tuk paused. …Caging?

A deep frown settled on her face as she flipped through the pages. The more she read, the deeper her scowl became.

Dark. Toxic. Chains. Obsession. A possessive love bordering on insanity.

"Oh, no. Absolutely not."

She slammed the book shut and set it aside. This one’s gotta go. Can’t have him thinking this is normal love.

One by one, she started reorganizing the books, pulling out anything that screamed bad romance—anything with cages, ropes, manipulation, obsession, and other questionable themes. It felt less like cleaning and more like confiscating contraband.

By the time she was done, the “forbidden” books were in a pile on the floor, and the shelves looked… significantly more wholesome.

She wiped her hands with satisfaction.

"Just where does he even find this stuff?" she muttered, gathering the discarded books.

Settling back onto the couch, she absently flipped one open.

Then another.

And another.

Before she knew it, she was lost in the stories—blushing, gasping, and occasionally covering her mouth at the audacity of some of the scenes. 'Okay, okay… the scene and discription is really wild making me imagine if those position even possible, but the writing is actually pretty good.'

Time passed. She yawned and stretched, only then realizing just how long she had been waiting.

"That guy… He didn’t forget he summoned me, right?"

She scowled at the thought.

These past few days, Prince Michaelli had been ordering her around with the most random tasks—showing her weapons she didn’t care about, dragging her to dull meetings that nearly put her to sleep, and making her run errands with Lord Nixon.

At this point, she was starting to wonder if she was still a historian… or if she had somehow been downgraded to his personal maid.

Wait.

Her gaze flicked toward the bookshelves she had just reorganized.

Her eyes widened.

"Did… did I just clean his room?!"

She stared at her own hands, then let out a dry laugh. I’ve been here too long.

Tuk gathered the books she had confiscated, stacking them neatly in her arms. Alright, time to get out of here before I somehow end up reorganizing his entire life too.

Just as she reached for the door handle, it swung open, and she nearly collided with Ethan, the prince’s ever-composed butler. His sharp eyes immediately locked onto the books in her hands.

“My Lord,” he said, his tone polite but laced with curiosity. “May I ask why you are carrying His Highness’s books?”

Tuk blinked, then quickly composed herself. “Oh, these? The prince told me before that I could take them with me.” She flashed a casual smile, hoping he wouldn’t press further.

Ethan arched a brow, clearly skeptical. “His Highness said that?”

“Yup!” Tuk nodded confidently. “Word for word.” (Well… sort of. But let’s not get caught up in the details.)

Ethan studied her for a moment before sighing. “I see.”

Sensing an opportunity, Tuk shifted the topic. “Speaking of the prince, where is he? I waited for hours in his chamber, and he never showed up.” She kept her tone even, but her patience was hanging by a very thin thread.

Ethan’s eyes widened slightly before he let out a quiet, startled gasp. “I, uh… may have forgotten to tell him you were waiting.”

A moment of silence stretched between them.

Tuk inhaled sharply. Don’t snap. Don’t snap.

She clenched her jaw, her grip tightening on the books. That absolute—

Deep breath. Smile. Hold it in.

“You. Forgot.”

“Yes,” Ethan admitted, clearing his throat.

Tuk let out a slow, eerie chuckle. Ethan did not like that chuckle.

She nodded slowly, as if processing. “Right. Right. So, just to summarize—I was summoned, you forgot to tell him, I was left here marinating in boredom for hours, and now I find out he’s been gone this whole time?”

Ethan, to his credit, looked genuinely remorseful. “It appears so. I apologize.”

Tuk’s patience was slipping like sand through her fingers.

“To be fair,” Ethan added cautiously, “His Highness had urgent business in the south.”

Tuk inhaled deeply through her nose. “Mmm. Of course. Urgent business.” Her voice was calm. Too calm. Dangerously calm.

Ethan took a small step back. Probably for his own safety.

“I see,” she said sweetly. “Well then, I suppose I’ll just go back?”

“Then allow me to guide you—”

“No need,” Tuk cut him off, turning sharply on her heel. If you follow me, I might just do something unforgivable. She didn’t say it aloud, but her eyes did all the talking.

Ethan, ever perceptive, wisely chose not to argue.

She stomped down the hall, grumbling under her breath like an old man.

Summon me and then ghost me? And then his butler forgets? Unbelievable. Makes me wait for hours—he’s doing this on purpose, isn’t he? What’s next? Does he expect me to fold his clothes? Tuck him in at night? Read him a bedtime story?!

Ethan watched her go, sighed, then glanced back into the prince’s room before quietly closing the door again.

----------------------------------------

[[ Special Ending- Prince POV ]]

That night, Prince Michaelli stepped into his chamber, rolling his shoulders as he exhaled. The trip to the south had been exhausting, and all he wanted was a moment of peace.

But something felt… off.

His sharp gaze swept across the room. It was subtle, but he could tell—things weren’t exactly as he had left them. His weapons were precisely where they should be, his clothes and secret doors untouched, yet…

His room felt cleaner.

His brow furrowed.

“…Ethan,” he called, voice calm yet firm.

The butler, ever-efficient, stepped inside. “Yes, Your Highness?”

Michaelli glanced around again before resting his piercing gaze on him. “Did someone clean my room?”

Ethan clasped his hands behind his back. “Ah. That would be the historian, Tuk.”

A beat of silence.

“…Tuk?” Michaelli’s expression was unreadable, though there was the slightest arch of his brow.

“Yes, Your Highness. She waited here for hours. I, ah… may have forgotten to inform you of her arrival.”

Michaelli simply stared at him.

Ethan held firm under the gaze of royalty for exactly three seconds before looking away, clearing his throat. “A slight oversight.”

Michaelli’s eyes narrowed.

Ethan shifted, suddenly finding the floor quite interesting. “…A regrettable one.”

The prince continued staring.

Ethan caved. “A highly unfortunate lapse in judgment.”

Michaelli raised an eyebrow.

Ethan sighed. “A monumental failure on my part, the shame of which I shall carry for the rest of my days.”

Michaelli tilted his head ever so slightly.

“…I should probably apologize to the lord, shouldn’t I?” Ethan admitted.

The prince finally looked away, exhaling through his nose. “I suspect it’s already too late.”

Ethan winced, recalling the eerie chuckle Tuk had let out earlier. Yes… too late indeed.

But Michaelli wasn’t finished. His gaze shifted to his bookshelves. His once-carefully arranged collection… looked different.

His lips parted slightly as he slowly approached. A hand lifted toward the shelves—hovered—then retracted as if in disbelief.

His books had been reorganized.

He turned back to Ethan, expression unreadable.

“…What else did she do?”

Ethan hesitated. “Ah. Well. It seems she, ah… curated your book selection.”

Michaelli blinked once. Twice.

“…Curated.”

Ethan coughed lightly. “Yes, she may have… removed certain books she deemed questionable.”

Another silence.

“…Questionable.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Michaelli hummed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “I see.”

“He also took a few books with her,” Ethan added casually.

The prince’s fingers stilled mid-thought.

“…She what?”

“Your books, Your Highness,” Ethan clarified. “He said you told her she could take them.”

Michaelli’s sharp eyes flicked toward his bedside table. The feeling of off suddenly made sense. A few books were missing.

A slow smirk tugged at the prince’s lips. He took a step closer, scanning the remaining titles. Then, realization settled in.

Most of the books she had taken—he had already read them.

Ethan bowed slightly. “If there’s nothing else, I shall take my leave.”

The prince waved him off absentmindedly. “Go.”

As the door shut behind his butler, Michaelli let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head in amusement.

He leaned against the table, tapping a finger against its surface.

It seemed her little bird had quite the interesting hobby.

His golden eyes flickered with intrigue.

He completely misunderstood Tuk’s intention.