{Memory core # ??? Start}

The park bench felt colder than it should. The gold detailing seemed to reflect more than just light—it mocked me, casting a sharp contrast to my worn, threadbare clothes. I tugged my sleeves down, trying to hide the frayed edges. Next to Jamie, I felt smaller, poorer, and more broken than ever. She sat like she belonged in a painting—perfect, untouchable, the very image of royalty. Her gown shimmered in the soft sunlight, and I found myself staring at the silver threads in the fabric, wondering how something so delicate could be real. Everything about her was regal. Everything about me was… wrong.

What was I doing here? What was I doing here, sitting next to the Queen of a kingdom that wanted me dead?

My stomach twisted as I tried to focus on anything but her presence. The tension between us wasn’t new, but it felt different today. Heavier. The air was thick with things unsaid, with emotions neither of us knew how to deal with. I could smell the faint scent of strawberries—her favorite—and the earthy tones of the copse we sat in. Normally, the smell of fresh trees and sunlight would calm me, but right now, all I could think about was the space between us that felt more like an ocean than a few inches.

I could feel her warmth, but it was distant. Just like she was. Every time I tried to reach out, something—my own fear or her title—pushed me back. I glanced at her, trying to gauge her mood, but her face was a perfect mask of calm.

She’s so good at pretending.

“We can’t keep meeting like this,” I blurted out. My voice sounded strange, like it belonged to someone else. Someone more confident. Someone who wasn’t breaking apart on the inside.

Jamie didn’t look at me. Her gaze stayed forward, focused on something far away. Maybe something she couldn’t reach either.

“I am the Queen, Rod. If I say we can meet, then we can meet.”

Her words were firm, but I could hear the uncertainty beneath them. She was trying to convince herself, not just me. It was a lie, and we both knew it. No matter how much power her crown gave her, it wouldn’t be enough to save us from the world we lived in.

My heart ached. I wanted to believe her. I really did. But her world wasn’t mine. She could say all the right things, make all the promises, but I was the one with the dagger hanging over my head.

“If your father finds out…” My voice cracked, betraying the fear I tried so hard to bury. “I’m dead.”

I stared at the ground, unwilling to meet her eyes. I couldn’t bear to see the guilt I knew would be there. She could promise me the world, but the truth was, if her father discovered the truth—about us, about everything I had done—I wouldn’t just be dead. I’d be forgotten. Erased. Just like my family. And it would be her fault.

Jamie’s hand twitched, and for a moment, I thought she might reach for me. But she didn’t. Her fingers curled into her lap instead, and her silence said more than her words ever could.

“He could try,” she said finally, but her voice was softer now, almost fragile. “But I would stop him.”

I nearly laughed. She couldn’t stop him. We both knew that. Her father—the man who had torn my family apart—wasn’t someone she could defy, no matter how much she wanted to. Her crown wasn’t a shield. It was a cage, just like the one I was trapped in.

She grabbed my hand, her grip tight and desperate, as if holding onto me would keep the world from falling apart. I felt her warmth, her pulse racing under her skin. For a brief second, it felt real. But then the anger surged, hot and sharp, filling my chest with a bitterness I couldn’t control.

My family was broken because of her father. Because of the choices she hadn’t made. And suddenly, I couldn’t stand the feel of her touch anymore. I pulled my hand away, the anger bubbling up, threatening to spill over.

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“Rod…” Jamie’s voice trembled, and I knew what was coming next. An apology. An excuse. Something to make me forgive her. But I didn’t want it. Not today.

“Don’t,” I snapped, my voice cold and jagged. “I don’t want your pity, Jamie. Or your understanding. You could’ve stopped this. If you’d just stood up to him—if you’d done anything—Candar and Peckolin wouldn’t be dead. My family wouldn’t be dead.” The words spilled out like venom, each one cutting deeper than the last. “But you didn’t. And now it’s too late.”

Jamie didn’t flinch. She didn’t cry. She just sat there, her eyes shining with unshed tears, but her face remained composed, regal. Even now, she was still the queen, still pretending like she wasn’t breaking inside.

The silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating. The royal copse, with all its beauty, felt like a prison. The weight of my words hung in the air, and I couldn’t stand to be there anymore. I stood, my body trembling with the anger and regret I couldn’t shake.

But before I could leave, the memory dissolved like mist, and I blinked, finding myself not in the royal gardens but in the dim, musty hallway of some forgotten Library estate.

{Memory Core End ???}

Blake’s face swam into view, her wide blue eyes filled with concern as she leaned close, too close.

“Are you okay, Rod?” Her voice was soft, but the urgency in it pierced through the haze of my thoughts.

I blinked again, trying to shake the lingering emotions from the past. This wasn’t Jamie. This wasn’t Jamie. Blake wasn’t a queen, wasn’t someone who would ever wear a crown or bear the weight of a kingdom. But she looked at me with the same intensity, the same concern that Jamie used to.

“I…” My words faltered, but before I could gather my thoughts, Blake’s lips were on mine. The kiss was sudden, fiery, full of heat and energy that took me by surprise. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet like Jamie’s. It was wild and reckless, and for a moment, I lost myself in it.

But as quickly as it started, I pulled back, breathless and confused. My mind was spinning, trying to reconcile what had just happened.

“What was that?” I stammered, still tasting the salt of her kiss on my lips.

“A kiss,” she replied with a grin, playful and unapologetic. “To wake up a sleeping prince.”

I opened my mouth to say something—anything—but before I could, she turned and walked down the hallway, her laughter echoing behind her. She moved with the same confidence Jamie had once had, and for a brief second, I wondered if I was dreaming.

But this wasn’t a dream. This was real. Too real.

I stood there, my heart racing, as Blake’s figure disappeared down the hallway. Her laughter still echoed in my ears, but it did nothing to shake the growing confusion inside me. My lips still tingled from the kiss, the taste of her lingering, but all I could think about was Jamie.

What does this mean? I thought. For me? For Jamie?

The knot in my chest tightened, guilt bubbling up with every breath. Jamie’s face, regal and composed, flashed in my mind, a constant reminder of the world we couldn’t escape from. And here I was, kissing Blake, feeling something I couldn’t explain, something I didn’t even understand. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

"Blake!" I called out, my voice sharper than I intended. My feet moved before I even realized it, the hallway stretching out in front of me as I chased after her. My mind was racing, trying to make sense of it all, trying to figure out what I was even feeling. When I finally caught up, I grabbed her shoulder, spinning her around to face me.

She turned with that same wicked grin, like she knew something I didn’t. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, but there was something deeper there too—something wild and untamed, something that scared me.

She pulled out of my grip her eyes twinkling with mischief But before I could study them, Blake turned around, pushed open the door and ushered me inside the next room.

“We can talk here,” she whispered, her voice carrying a note of seriousness. But before I could say a word, she pounced again. Her arms wrapped around my neck, pulling me into another kiss, more urgent than the last. The room was dim, candles flickering on an old wooden table, casting long shadows over the stone walls.

My head spun, but I wasn’t happy. This wasn’t what I wanted. As she guided my hand downward, panic flared in my chest. I yanked away, stepping back, my breath ragged.

“Blake—stop.” My voice shook, but I held her gaze, the weight of the moment heavy between us.