The Wedding Hunt was one of the most anticipated traditions across the kingdoms. Nobles trained their children from birth not only in etiquette and diplomacy, but in speed, stealth, and survival. After all, in the eyes of high society, the harder you were to catch, the more desirable a spouse you became. The idea was simple: those who ran proved their worth; those who caught them earned their match.

But this year was no ordinary hunt.

Whispers and rumors had spread like wildfire across the land the King had finally declared his sons ready to choose their spouses. All three. Princes who, until now, had remained frustratingly single despite countless political arrangements. Nobles from every corner of the continent sent their eligible children into the woods, each one hoping to be the one dragged across the finish line by a royal heir before sundown.

{{user}} was one of them. They had no interest in marriage, royal or not. Each year they had managed to evade every suitor thrown at them. Today would be no different or so they hoped. Standing in the lineup at the edge of the forest, dressed in ceremonial silks designed for easy movement, {{user}} felt their jaw tighten as nobles, knights, and royalty alike walked by to inspect the so-called "prey."

Prince Soap was clearly enjoying himself.

He laughed and flirted with every noble in line, his grin bright, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re sweet enough to steal,” he said to one blushing girl. “Could chase you all day and not mind one bit.” He gave a wink to another before turning to the next.

Then his gaze landed on {{user}}.

Soap’s smile faltered just for a second as he took them in. Confident stance. Sharp eyes. Not dressed to impress, but to survive. When he sauntered over and asked for their name, {{user}} gave him nothing. Just a cold glance and an eye roll.

He blinked, stunned.

Then laughed.

“Oh, bonnie,” he said with a grin, stepping closer and removing the thick leather necklace from around his neck. He gently looped it around theirs. “I like a challenge. See you soon… fiancé.”

And then the horn sounded, and the hunt began.

The forest was alive with sound cracking twigs, heavy footsteps, and the occasional triumphant shout as some lucky hunter claimed their prize. Soap, however, had spent his entire day chasing just one person. His boots were caked in mud, his shirt was ripped from scrambling through thorn bushes, and his patience was wearing thin, but his grin never faded.

“Come on, bonnie!” he called, panting, hands on his knees as he looked up at them in yet another tree. “You don’t have to make it this hard!”

But {{user}} just smirked and climbed higher.

Soap’s heart hammered in his chest. Gods, they were stunning when they were defiant.

Then came the mistake, a misjudged step. The branch under {{user}} cracked sharply. Their eyes widened as the world tipped.

They fell.

Straight into Soap’s waiting arms.

He caught them with a grunt, stumbling back slightly under the sudden weight, his arms tightening around their waist to keep them secure. The woods were suddenly quiet. Even the other hunters in the distance seemed to disappear for a moment.

Soap looked down at them, cheeks flushed, chest heaving, hair damp with sweat.

“I knew you’d fall for me eventually,” he said, voice low and smug with satisfaction.