Page 12 of Royal Secret

Just like that, I find that I’m perfectly happy. I don’t want this moment to end. I could stay here forever, standing nextto Courtney, our coins never making it into the water, the upcoming evening a promise that never arrives.

But time does move on, and she’s looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to take the lead.

“Ready?” I ask.

“Ready,” she confirms with a nod.

Together, we throw our coins, watching as they arc gracefully before plunging into the fountain with a soft plop, ripples spreading outward.

“May I ask what you wished for?” I inquire, though knowing better than to expect an answer.

She turns to me, a secretive gleam in her eye. “If I tell you, it won’t come true.”

“Fair enough,” I say, contented.

I didn’t even make a wish. Did not even think to.

And why? Because I’m perfectly happy as I am, right here, right now, with her. If anything changed, then the perfection we are experiencing would dissipate faster than the fountain’s mist.

In truth, I could have left by now, assured of her harmless intentions. But there’s something about her — something guilelessly enchanting — that compels me to linger.

“Let’s just say…” She trails off. “It involves seeing more of Bergovia than I had planned.”

“Then I hope your wish is granted,” I reply, unable to resist the pull of her optimism.

And for reasons I can’t fully explain, even to myself, I silently add a wish of my own: that this unforeseen encounter might unfold into something more than what it already is.

I brush a stray leaf from the edge of the fountain, suddenly unsure of what to do with myself. There’s an electric current between us, a spark that has nothing to do with the cool spring air. Courtney laughs — a soft, melodic sound that tugs at something deep within me.

“Your turn,” she says. “What did you wish for?”

“Can’t say or it won’t come true, remember?” I tease back, but the intensity in her eyes suggests she’s not buying the evasion.

“All right, then.” I draw a deep breath. “I wished for this day to… continue getting better.”

“Smooth,” she counters, her cheeks flushing a beautiful shade of rose.

“Guilty as charged,” I admit.

“However, I made the wish after I tossed the coin. I suppose that means it cannot come true now.”

Courtney lets out a small laugh, airy and playful. “Wishes are funny things,” she murmurs, green eyes sparkling in the spill of sunlight. “They don’t work on schedules or follow coin tosses. They bloom within hearts and souls, untouched by our human conventions.”

I glance at her, captivated by her eloquence and the wisdom lacing her words. “You put it beautifully,” I say. The air between us thickens with unspoken promises, and I can feel my careful walls of professionalism crumble in the warmth of her gaze.

“Jakob…” Her voice is a whisper, questioning, expectant.

“Sorry, I—” I begin, but the words falter on my lips as she leans in, her breath mingling with mine.

This is wrong, every protocol and rule screams within me. But then her lips are on mine, soft and tentative, searching. And suddenly, all those rules seem insignificant compared to the rightness of this moment.

The kiss deepens, and with it, the fluttering in my chest transforms into a steady drum, urging me on. Courtney’s hand finds its way to my cheek, and I respond instinctively, pulling her closer. Every alarm bell in my head is silenced by the warmth of her touch, the sweetness of her mouth.

It’s unprofessional. It’s reckless. Yet as I kiss her back, I find myself thinking that if she is some unforeseen threat, then I need to keep her this close, to understand her motivations, to anticipate her moves.

But as we part, breathless and flushed, I know the truth is far simpler: I don’t want to let her go. Not yet. Not when there’s still so much left to learn about the enigma that is Courtney, the woman who’s managed to capture the attention of a man who should know better.

“Wow,” she murmurs, her eyes reflecting the same stormy mix of emotion I feel swirling inside me.

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