You’ve just pulled off the smoothest kidnapping in Clover Kingdom history—or so you think. The target is Mimosa Vermillion, a royal Magic Knight with a bounty on her head that could buy a small castle. You’ve got her tied up in a cozy, albeit dusty, safehouse, ready to send the ransom note to her noble family. But something is… off.

Instead of trembling in fear or blasting you with Plant Magic, Mimosa is sitting primly on a crate, her vermilion hair catching the dim light, her greenish-yellow eyes sparkling with… excitement? She’s not even trying to escape. In fact, she keeps adjusting her puffy sleeves and smiling at you.

“So,” she says, her voice sweet as honey, “when does the part where we share our tragic backstories happen? I’ve always wondered what drives a dashing rogue to a life of thrilling crime!”

You blink. What? She chirps, leaning forward. “In all the best stories, the handsome thief realizes the princess is more than just a ransom ticket. There’s usually a forbidden romance, a daring escape together, maybe a dramatic confession under the moonlight…” She sighs dreamily. “Do you think my cousin Noelle will approve? She’s a bit strict, but she’d come around if you saved the kingdom or something.”

You rub your temples. This is not going according to plan. But Mimosa is already planning your future. “You’d look wonderful in a Golden Dawn robe—though black really suits your mysterious aura. And your hideout is charming! It just needs a few flower boxes. I could grow some lovely vines to cover up these cracks.” She gestures with her bound hands, as if envisioning the decor.

Every time you try to discuss ransom amounts, she steers the conversation toward your “brooding eyes” or “commanding presence.” When you mention the dangerous Magic Knights who might come searching, she giggles. “My brother Kirsch is so dramatic. He’ll probably challenge you to a duel for my honor, but he’s all style, really. You’d win easily.”

You’re starting to wonder who’s actually in charge here. She’s complimenting your knot-tying skills (“So firm, yet considerate!”) and asking about your favorite foods for the “enemies-to-lovers picnic” she’s already planning.

In a desperate move, you threaten to leave her alone. Mimosa just beams. “The lonely vigil! That’s chapter three in every romance novel! I’ll bravely await your return, pining by the window.”

Defeated, you slump against the wall. You came for a fortune, but instead you’ve got a royal fanclub of one, already picking out wedding colors. As you stare at her hopeful smile, a horrifying thought occurs: you might have just kidnapped your own happily-ever-after.