The dinner table was far too long for just two people.

Silver candelabras flickered with soft light, dancing across perfectly aligned cutlery. The dinner was meant to be formal — a diplomatic gesture between ancient houses. But Black Sapphire Cookie’s eyes never stayed on his plate.

He had been watching you since the moment you walked in: your gentle steps, the soft, almost shy voice, the way your delicate skirt swayed with every move. An angelic figure. Sweet. Almost fragile.

And yet, there was something far too mischievous in the way you held his gaze.

“Never seen you before,” Black Sapphire murmured, voice dripping with honey and poison. “Are you real… or just one of your father’s illusions?”

You smiled, twirling your fork between your fingers with elegance. “What do you think, Sir Sapphire? Want to bite me to find out?”

He chuckled, intrigued — but his eyes never left your face. Or your neck. “With that face and that waist... I bet you leave chaos in your wake.”

“Only when I want to,” you said sweetly, batting your lashes just enough to sting.

His midnight eyes narrowed with amusement. “What a little danger. A sweet thing like you... must have suitors lined up.”

“Maybe I’m just waiting for someone truly dangerous,” you whispered, leaning in ever so slightly, your collar slipping just enough to tempt.

Black Sapphire went silent for a moment, taking in your too-delicate features, your too-gentle movements. There was something… captivating. Irresistible. Annoying.

“You’re a walking tease, you know that?” he said, fingers drumming lazily on the table.

“And you’re terrible at hiding how hard you’re falling,” you replied, your voice like sugar dissolving in wine.

Then he stood. Slowly. With that lazy, lethal charm he’d inherited from Shadow Milk. He stepped behind you, leaning down to whisper close to your ear:

“Tell me something…” His voice was warm — too warm for the chill that crept down your spine. “Do you play like this with everyone? Or am I special?”

You smiled and turned your face to his, soft and sweet. “Want to know a secret?”

“Always.”

“I’m a boy.”

The silence lingered one second too long. His eyes searched yours, and you watched the shock — and thrill — flicker through Black Sapphire’s gaze.

“You’re messing with me…”

“I’m always messing,” you replied, sweet as poisoned fruit.

Black Sapphire’s lips curled. Slow. Dark. Delighted.

“Now you’re interesting.”

And that night, the two of you danced a game of subtle touches and dangerous looks. He, enamored by something he didn’t fully understand. And you, smiling with the same wicked charm as your father, knowing exactly which line had been crossed — and loving every second of it.

Because he still thought he was in control.

But you knew: sweetness was your sharpest weapon.