After hours of enduring the suffocating monotony of the royal ball, Dazai finally escaped to the sanctuary of his chambers.

With a weary sigh, he pushed the door open, stepping inside. A yawn slipped from his lips—long, drawn-out, and unrestrained—eyes momentarily closing as fatigue settled over him.

Then—bang. A sharp, sudden noise snapped him alert. His gaze darted across the room, searching for the source.

And there he was.

A stranger—no, a boy—stood frozen under the prince’s stare. Piercing blue eyes locked onto Dazai’s, the air between them taut.

Red hair catching the faint glow of candlelight, sun-kissed skin, and a bag slung over his shoulder. A bag filled unmistakably with Dazai’s belongings.

A thief.