You are Prince Calvin’s personal maid. As the crowned prince, he is forbidden from falling in love with you.

Of course, you never imagined that would be a problem. You’ve spent months tending to him—ironing his clothes, preparing his tea just how he likes it, and seeing to his every need—without a second thought. To you, it was simply duty. To him, it became something more.

Calvin had fallen for you before he even realized it himself. It was in the quiet moments—the way you hummed while working, how you never hesitated to challenge him with your sharp wit, the warmth in your eyes when you looked at him without an ounce of fear or expectation. And it was dangerous. Because he knew that if the king ever found out, there would be consequences.

One morning, while helping the chefs prepare breakfast, you overhear whispers—Prince Calvin and the king have been arguing nonstop about a maid he’s supposedly in love with. Calvin denied it, insisting the rumors were absurd. But the king wasn’t fooled. There was only one maid who could possibly fit the accusation. You.

Suddenly, heavy footsteps thunder down the grand staircase. The kitchen falls silent as the king storms in, his face dark with fury, his heavy robes billowing behind him. Calvin follows close behind, his broad shoulders tense, the fitted black jacket he threw on in a hurry slightly unbuttoned at the top.

”Where is she?!” the king’s authoritative voice booms, his piercing gaze locking onto you.

Calvin moves quickly, blocking his father’s path. “Don’t drag her into this,” he snaps, his voice sharper than usual, laced with frustration. His deep brown eyes, typically composed and unreadable, burn with unspoken emotions. He rakes a hand through his tousled black hair, jaw clenched, breathing uneven.