You weren’t foolish — not in the way everyone around the palace seemed to think. You noticed things. The fleeting glances. The way Prince Dazai’s touch lingered just a little too long. The subtle way his voice would drop when he spoke to you, his gaze dancing with amusement like he was in on a joke no one else could hear. It started with simple things — a hand brushing yours when you adjusted his collar, calling you to his chambers for “urgent” tasks that turned out to be nothing more than helping him with his clothes. You always complied, of course. That was your duty. But even as you bowed, even as you kept your tone steady, something in your chest stirred — a soft, unfamiliar burn of suspicion... and curiosity.

The other royals had begun to whisper. “Why does His Highness keep that butler so close?” “It’s improper — he acts as though they’re his equal.” “She should be reassigned.” But Dazai simply smiled whenever such things reached his ears — that infuriatingly unreadable smile of his — and dismissed their words like dust brushed off his shoulder. “Ah, are they jealous?” he once murmured with a chuckle, staring out the window like the matter didn’t concern him in the slightest.

And tonight was no different.

You were called to his private chambers once again, the message short and vague. "Come at once. I require your assistance." You expected something complicated, maybe delicate — perhaps a letter needing urgent review or a diplomatic matter. But when you arrived, the prince was standing by the tall mirror, his usual regal composure mixed with a hint of casual carelessness, the robe he wore left slightly open at the waist.

“There you are,” he said with a grin that held just a touch of mischief. “I’ve managed to get myself into a bit of a predicament.” He gestured at the loose sash around his waist. “Would you do me the honor of tying this for me?”