In the council chamber, the air buzzes with tension as advisors lean forward, pressing their demands on Prince Michaelli to address the future of the royal line. Their voices rise and fall with repetitive insistence on lineage—words that ring hollow to him, words he’s long grown tired of.
Tuk, having attended only six of these meetings, already feels her ears are about to bleed. She recalls her own grandparents’ relentless insistence, the same worn phrases about marriage and heirs they used to push her toward a traditional life.
Yet the prince listens, though it’s clear he has little choice. The council’s obsession with his legacy runs deeper than tradition—they want reassurance because Michaelli, by winning the deadly tournament for the throne, eliminated the other heirs. This consequence, born of his own victory, makes it difficult for him to avoid these tedious sessions.
Tuk, unaware of this bloody history, admires his patience, mistaking his resolve for quiet tolerance. How many years have they been hounding him on this topic? she wonders, impressed by his stoicism.
Seated beside him, Tuk notices the faint tension in his clenched grip on the armrest. Catching his simmering irritation, a smirk tugs at her lips. She leans in close enough for only him to hear. “Your Highness, if they crave legacy so much,” she whispers, her tone laced with mischief, “why not give them something unforgettable?”
Michaelli’s gaze sharpens, a slow smile unfurling as he considers her suggestion. He turns back to the councilors, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “Gentlemen,” he begins, his voice deceptively gentle, “your enthusiasm for my legacy is truly… moving.” His eyes sweep the table, catching their uneasy glances. A faint smile tugs at his lips, the kind that makes the councilors squirm.
The council murmurs, sensing a potential breakthrough. Tuk decides to add her voice to the ruse, adopting a solemn tone as she addresses Michaelli. “Perhaps, Your Highness, we might announce a formal courtship? A symbolic display that would satisfy the empire’s concerns for the future.”
The prince raises an eyebrow, catching the subtle glint of irony in her suggestion. He nods, as if weighing her words, while a knowing look passes between them. “An interesting thought, Advisor,” he replies, maintaining the facade. “Yes, a union that represents our empire’s strength, but one with… deeper, more lasting values.” His emphasis on lasting makes Tuk stifle a smile.
The councilors exchange hopeful glances, nodding vigorously, oblivious to the manipulation at play. They believe they’ve won. But, as Tuk and Michaelli both know, this “courtship” is nothing but a well-laid distraction.
As the council session drags on, Tuk weaves her words artfully, proposing a grand, staged romance. “Imagine, Your Highness, a courtship not driven by mere affection, but by loyalty—a devotion to the future. This way, we secure the empire's future while simultaneously following the Arcanographica’s scroll.” The councilors nod eagerly, absorbed in her words, while she exchanges another glance with Michaelli, their shared amusement clear.
Once the councilors finally withdraw, satisfied they’ve guided the prince’s hand, Michaelli lets out a low chuckle, his earlier restraint melting into a rare display of satisfaction. “You played them well, Tuk. They’ll be talking of this ‘union’ for weeks.”
Stolen story; please report.
“All part of my role as ‘love advisor,’ Highness,” Tuk replies smoothly, bowing with a mock-seriousness that only makes Michaelli smirk.
“Indeed,” he muses, studying her. “They’re so blinded by the idea of control, they don’t realize they’ve handed it to us.” His gaze sharpens, and there’s a gleam of respect in his eyes. “You understand this game of illusion and restraint. You know, love can be a powerful weapon… much like myself.”
Tuk nods, her smile widening slightly. Even she herself can't believe what she is capable of “Love, Your Highness, is one of the greatest facades of all. Played correctly, it can be anything—a shield or a blade.” Her words carry a weight Michaelli recognizes, an insight that aligns with his own.
He leans forward, intrigued. “So, tell me, tuk. How would you suggest we sustain this illusion long enough to hold their focus?”
“A carefully chosen partner, perhaps,” she suggests, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Someone willing to act the part without attachment—someone who can keep secrets and never lose sight of the act.”
Michaelli’s eyes narrow, approving. “A decoy. A player in our little theater,” he muses, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Perhaps an outsider, who won’t question the arrangement or my intentions. Or maybe even a trusted court member—someone who knows the value of silence.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” Tuk agrees, her eyes alight with shared delight. “We’ll stage the courtship as if it’s a matter of the heart. The people will be swept up in the spectacle, while the councilors become too engrossed to see the truth.”
Michaelli chuckles, genuinely amused. “You’re even more devious than I’d hoped, Tuk. This decoy ‘romance’ may just give us the space we need. But I’ll need your expertise to make it convincing.”
Tuk inclines her head, her eyes gleaming. “Of course, Your Highness. We’ll give them a show like none before—a true affair of the heart, or so they’ll think.”
Michaelli leans back, satisfied. “Very well. Let’s plan this ‘courtship.’”
Together, they begin to plot the game, two minds perfectly attuned to the art of deception, as the illusion they craft takes shape—a spectacle to beguile the council and leave their true intentions shrouded in shadow.
As Prince Michaelli and Tuk settle into the quiet aftermath of the council meeting, the two conspirators exchange glances, each fully aware of the intricate layers of deception they are weaving.
“First,” Michaelli begins, leaning forward with the intensity of a strategist, “we’ll need someone who can fit the role convincingly. Someone attractive enough to command attention, yet humble enough not to overstep.”
Tuk nods, pondering potential candidates. “And someone who can keep their emotions at bay,” she adds thoughtfully, her fingers tapping against her chin. “Anyone easily swayed by their own feelings could jeopardize the act.”
“Precisely.” A glint of approval sparked in Michaelli’s eyes. “A noble without much stake in the court—a second son or daughter with little ambition. Someone aware of their place but able to hold the room’s attention.”
A sly smile crept across Tuk’s lips. “I know just the person, Your Highness. Eveline, daughter of Lord Alaric. Striking but modest, and as the child of a minor yet wealthy noble, she seeks little more than favor. A woman like her could keep the council entertained without expecting anything permanent.”
Her suggestion was both swift and intentional. What Michaelli didn’t know was that, after being appointed the prince’s “love advisor,” ambitious lords had flocked to her, each eager to secure their daughter as the prince’s choice. Tuk, ever the opportunist, had seen an opening, a chance to turn their desperation into her own advantage. She had set up a quiet competition, convincing each eager lord that a “recommendation” to the prince’s ear came with a price. The higher the bribe, the closer their daughter would be to being introduced to the prince.
Tuk cunningly capitalized on their eagerness, ranking each daughter by the amount her family contributed and creating a “top five” contenders list. She raised the stakes, allowing the most competitive nobles to bid against each other, with the highest bidder securing her recommendation. Lord Alaric, with his deep pockets and determination, had come out on top.
> Lord Alaric is a minor noble with sharp instincts and significant wealth, known for his shrewdness in navigating the intricate web of court politics. Though not one of the most powerful lords, his influence comes from his strategic alliances and unwavering ambition. Alaric's primary goal is to secure a place for his lineage in the upper echelons of power, often appearing more reserved but perceptive. He is eager for opportunities that could elevate his family's standing, which makes him both an asset and a pawn in the schemes of the more powerful figures.
Tuk had hit three birds with one stone: she’d secured her finances, assisted the prince in his council woes, and, if all went as planned, set the stage for a story that could rival the most dramatic novels. Watching the cold-hearted prince potentially fall for Eveline due to an arranged match sounded like the perfect romance fantasy. With any luck, she’d witness a love story unfold before her eyes, just as she’d seen in her beloved comics.
Who doesn't want romance? she smirks