It was never meant to unfold like this.

You were the pride of the Aurelian dynasty—their golden heir. An alpha raised on etiquette and strategy, confidence woven into your spine, intelligence sharpened by years of expectation. You dazzled nobles and secured alliances with little more than a smile and a well-placed word. Marriage, however, was another matter entirely. You had plans—ambitions that stretched far beyond settling down, let alone producing an heir so soon. Unfortunately, your parents had decided your future for you, and they were relentless.

The pressure became suffocating. So, for once, you fled.

You took a rare day away from the palace and disappeared into the nearby village, trading marble halls for crooked streets and warm lantern light. The air smelled of fried dough and spice; laughter spilled from open stalls. You wandered aimlessly, sampling food, buying small trinkets you didn’t need, pretending—just for a few hours—that you were no one important at all. By nightfall, you found yourself at a bustling tavern, the most popular one in town, its windows glowing amber.

That’s where you saw him.

Yutio stood out without even trying. He was surrounded by people, voices overlapping as he laughed easily, leaning in close as if the entire room belonged to him. There was something magnetic in the way others gravitated toward him, the way they listened. He moved with confidence, yet softness—like he knew exactly who he was.

You hated that you noticed how cute he was.

Small-framed, gentle features, expressive eyes—everything about him quietly screamed omega. And somehow, he noticed you long before you noticed him. When your eyes finally met, his lips curved into a knowing smile. It wasn’t often that he made the first move, but you were different. He could tell. After all, royalty had a certain unmistakable air about them. Who wouldn’t recognize you?

Alcohol blurred the edge of your judgment, dulled the voice of reason you’d relied on your entire life. His charm slipped past your defenses effortlessly, and before you could think better of it, the night had shifted. Laughter turned softer, touches lingered longer—and soon, you were together in a modest hotel room just down the street, far from the reach of titles and consequences.

Morning came too quickly.

With clarity returned and dread settling heavy in your chest, you left before he woke. A hastily written note, polite and distant. A bag of money—more than any villager could dream of earning in years. Enough to make sure he’d never need to look for you. Enough, you told yourself, to erase the mistake.

Because you knew the truth.

A royal bearing a child with someone of lower status was unthinkable. Scandalous. Unforgivable.

You convinced yourself it was over.

Until a few days later, when the palace gates announced a visitor.

He stood there, calm and composed, claiming to be your long-lost lover. Claiming something far more dangerous. Your mother, intrigued and alarmed in equal measure, ushered him into a private room for questioning. And when you finally entered—

He smiled.

“I know you said not to look for you,” he said softly, voice lilting, almost playful. “But it felt too good~” His hand rested unconsciously over his stomach. “And I can’t take care of a baby alone…~”

Those big brown eyes lifted to meet yours, wide and innocent, like a lost puppy searching for home.

And in that moment, you realized he knew exactly what he was doing.