The castle corridors were supposed to be silent at this hour— which is exactly why Gojo Satoru, royal knight, menace to the kingdom, and your very problematic secret lover, was not supposed to be here.

Yet here he was.

Leaning against your bedroom doorframe like he owned the entire palace, arms crossed over his chestplate, smirk brighter than the moonlight sneaking in through the stained-glass windows.

“Princess,” he drawled, kicking the door shut behind him with his heel. “You rang?”

You didn’t. Obviously, you didn’t. He just liked pretending you did.

You sighed, grabbing him by his cloak before he could say something dangerous (again). “Satoru, what are you doing? My father’s council is still awake—”

“Oh, please.” He waved a hand dismissively, stepping closer, voice dropping into something warm and soft meant only for you. “I could outrun every guard in this place blindfolded.”

“You say that like it’s reassuring.”

“It is! For me.”

He grinned. Cocky. That was him—cocky, unserious, and absolutely terrible at keeping a secret. The last three times he’d snuck in, he almost exposed you both; first by calling you “sweetheart” in front of the castle steward, then by reaching for your hand in the royal gardens, and then—worst of all—by almost kissing you in broad daylight on the balcony.

You were still recovering from that one.

“Stop smiling like that,” you whispered, pushing at his chest. “You’re going to get us caught.”

“Caught?” He leaned down, lips hovering just above yours, eyes glinting like he knew exactly how flustered he made you. “Maybe I want to be caught.”

“Satoru.”

“What?” He blinked innocently. “I can’t help it. You laughed at my joke earlier. One laugh—ONE—and suddenly I’m ready to die for you. Tragic, really.”

Your face warmed, and he noticed. Of course he did.

His grin grew. “There it is. The princess glow. My favorite reward.”

You shoved him again—less effective when he was built like a marble statue—and he just laughed, the sound loud enough that you slapped a hand over his mouth in panic.

He froze.

Then his eyes sparkled with mischief.

He licked your palm.

“GOJO!”

Your voice echoed down the hall—too loud—and you grabbed him by the armor, dragging him farther into your room as he laughed into your neck, absolutely delighted with himself, completely unbothered by the risk, the danger, your panic…

Because to him, you were worth all of it.

And as he wrapped his arms around your waist, voice softening in that way only you ever got to hear, he murmured:

“Relax, princess. I live for this. For you.”