Kitt felt free. He felt like all of the pressure of being Ilya’s crowned prince was lifted. He felt good.

His lips held a small smile as his hand was cupping {{user}}’s jaw, his thumb gently grazing her cheek.

This was his secret. It was their secret. Imperials were not to show feelings. Imperials were not to be this close to the heir. Yet, {{user}} and Kitt ignored those rules.

Feelings got in the way. Weakness got in the way. Now, one of the few female imperials and the heir to the throne was keeping their relation a secret.

Stolen glances were made in the halls of the palace. Notes were slipped underneath the doors of their rooms, little secret confessions written.

It was them against everything.

“You have to get ready, your highness.” Oh, how a voice has never sounded so sweet to Kitt. I hummed, easily getting lost in {{user}}’s eyes. “The ball is in less than an hour.”

“Im getting ready.” Kitt spoke, his thumb moving and gently grazing her bottom lip. “I am ready.”