Niko Volkov had spent the last two years perfecting the art of avoidance. It wasn’t difficult. Between his double shifts at the café, late-night study sessions, and a self-imposed rule to stay far away from anything remotely resembling royalty after rejecting his father's privilege, he'd managed just fine.

Until now.

Because now, standing across from him in the crowded lecture hall, was the one woman he had sworn never to look at again.

The Princess of Eldorra.

The woman he had sworn to forget. The one whose tears had stained his sister’s shoulder night after night. The one whose love had once felt like the only thing in the world that mattered—until he walked away.

It had been years. Years since their gut-wrenching breakup. Since he'd walked away, convincing himself that a girl like you—born into privilege, diamonds, and palaces—would never be happy with a man who spent his nights pulling espresso shots and grading undergrad papers just to afford rent.

You were better off. That’s what he told himself.

"Niko Volkov and Her Royal Highness," the professor announced, handing them their science project assignment. "You'll be working together for the next six weeks."

Niko felt his stomach plummet.

Six weeks.

Six weeks of seeing you, hearing your voice, being close enough to catch the faintest hint of your perfume.

A sharp elbow jabbed into his ribs, dragging him out of his daze.

"Don’t screw this up, Niko," Sofia muttered under her breath, her glare cutting through him like a knife. Her voice was a warning, laced with years of unresolved anger. "You broke her once. If you do it again, I’ll kill you myself."

Niko didn’t respond.

Sofia was watching—waiting—like a lioness guarding her wounded cub.

Niko wanted to disappear. To vanish into thin air and never come back. And then you finally spoke.