Azaradan Palace
As the Crown Prince made his way toward his father's quarters, he kept rehearsing his words under his breath.
This was not a conversation he was used to having.
In truth, Buk had never been good at serious talks, especially not with the king. Yet tonight, every sentence mattered. He wanted something specific, and for once, he was determined not to leave the room without it.
He walked alone, just as he always did.
No guards.
No maids.
No attendants trailing behind him.
Everyone in the palace knew the prince hated being followed. He liked his solitude, liked the feeling of moving through the halls with no eyes on him, no one hovering, no one pretending not to notice him.
But after what had happened on the road from the harbor, that habit was about to change.
When he entered the king's quarters, he found his father seated with a pile of reports before him. Buk paused. The king was reading with such focus that interrupting him felt dangerous, so the prince sat quietly and waited.
He tried not to fidget.
Tried not to let his nervousness show.
Tried not to glare at the reports as though they were rival princes stealing his father's attention.
At last, the king reached the final page, set the report aside, and looked up.
"Tell me, son."
Buk straightened at once.
"I want to ask you for something, Father. I know it may surprise you, but I beg you to grant my wish."
King Bukka leaned back. "What is it? Tell me anything."
Buk drew a breath. "I need a guard. I need someone to stand beside me as my shield."
The king stared at him.
For a moment, he thought he had misheard.
For years, he had urged his son to travel with guards, to let soldiers shadow his steps, to accept the ordinary protections of royalty. Buk had refused every time, insisting he needed no one.
And now here he was—
asking.
Begging.
Bukka's surprise softened into quick satisfaction.
"Son, I'll assign you the strongest men we have to guard you—"
"No, Father. I only need one."
The king nodded slowly. "Very well. One strongest man, then."
Buk lifted his chin.
"A woman."
That made the king lean forward.
He didn't need to ask which woman.
There was only one person in the kingdom who fit the request so precisely. Only one woman strong enough to stand as shield to a prince.
And he had known her since infancy.
"She protected me from the robbers who were about to kill me on my way to the palace," Buk said quickly, eager to strengthen his case. "If it weren't for her, I wouldn't be standing here now."
King Bukka studied him.
"But she cannot do that. She is already captain of the army. She cannot abandon her post just to follow you through the palace halls. Can you not choose someone else?"
Buk's expression hardened with unusual resolve.
"Forgive my boldness, Father, but I only want her. And if that is impossible, then I will leave the kingdom again and live elsewhere—somewhere safe."
The king's face changed immediately. "Buk—"
"Azaradan has changed," the prince continued. "It is not the place I left ten years ago. Crime walks openly now. If I cannot have a guard I trust, then perhaps it is better that I go."
"Buk, you cannot do that. It is almost time for you to take the throne. Do you want strangers wearing my crown?"
Buk met his father's stare. "I could ask you the same thing."
The words hung between them like a blade.
For a long moment, father and son simply looked at one another, each waiting for the other to bend.
The king understood the threat all too well. If Buk left again, there was no telling when he would return. And Bukka, old enough now to feel time sharpening against him, knew he needed to place the crown on his son's head before death came for him.
Yet his son's demand was not simple.
Why her?
Why Kro?
After a moment, the king let out a breath.
"I'll give you what you want, son. But only if you answer one question."
Buk nodded at once. "What is it?"
The king's gaze narrowed, "If I had sent someone else to escort you that night, would you be standing here making this request now?"
Buk didn't hesitate, "No. I wouldn't."
"And what made you choose her?"
For the first time since entering the room, the prince looked entirely certain of himself. "The reason I kept moving from village to village," he said quietly, "was to find a place where I could be free and safe."
His voice softened.
"I have never felt safe in this palace. I've never felt safe anywhere I went." He lifted his eyes fully to his father, "But for the first time in my life, I felt safe when she was beside me."
He swallowed once.
"Father… Kro is my safe space."
The king said nothing at first.
Then slowly, his lips curved into a smile.
Pride warmed his face.
For the first time in a long while, he saw not merely his son, but the outline of the king Buk might one day become: a man who knew his mind, knew his heart, and did not fear speaking either.
And somehow, that convinced him.
...
Present Time
Krosmetics Headquarters
President's Office
Ukraine had checked his watch so many times that lunch break felt less like a scheduled hour and more like an approaching rescue. Since waking that morning, the text from the night before had played over and over in his head.
Worst sushi I've ever had by the way. Next time go somewhere else.
His embarrassment had not eased with daylight. If anything, it had deepened. He needed answers, or at least enough clarity to stop imagining that Kro had somehow followed him, observed him, tested him, or seen right through him.
He sat at his desk counting seconds until the break.
Then the lunchtime signal echoed through the building.
Ukraine sprang up almost immediately and crossed the office toward Kro's desk.
Kro was still typing on her computer. Hearing his quick footsteps, she paused without looking up.
"I'll have what you'll have," she said, reaching into her handbag for her card. She assumed he had come for her lunch order.
Ukraine stopped before the desk.
"I'm not here to take your order, ma'am."
That made her glance up.
Slowly, she returned her hand to the table.
"And what is it that you want?"
Ukraine swallowed, "I just… I need to ask you something, if you don't mind."
"I'm quite sure I will mind," she said. "But go ahead."
His throat tightened.
"I want—I need to know how you found out I had sushi last night."
Kro didn't bat an eye, "Oh. You had sushi last night? Me too."
Ukraine stared.
"Miss Kro, look…" He clasped his hands together anxiously. "I know I'm your assistant, but what I eat, who I eat with, where I eat—I'd appreciate some privacy. Let's keep this formal. I'm kindly asking."
Kro watched him in silence.
She had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.
But one glance at his face told her this was real to him. He wasn't joking. He wasn't trying to be clever. Something had genuinely unsettled him.
At length, she nodded.
"Alright, Ukraine. I won't interfere in your personal life. Go enjoy your lunch."
"Thank y—"
"But," she added, cutting through his relief, "I genuinely don't know why you think I'm interested in your personal life."
Her expression sharpened with mild confusion.
"As far as I know, our last conversation was when you and Misaki left for your dinner plans. So why exactly do you think I knew you had sushi with her?"
Ukraine stared.
"Because of the text you sent me."
Her brows rose. "I sent you a text?"
The surprise in her voice was so plain that even Ukraine couldn't mistake it.
"Show it to me," she said.
He immediately pulled out his phone, found the message thread, and handed it over.
Kro read the text.
Then, unexpectedly, she laughed.
It wasn't loud, but it was real.
Ukraine froze.
It was the first time he had ever heard her laugh in person.
"So that's why he never replied," she murmured, handing the phone back. "I sent it to the wrong person. It was meant for someone else."
She leaned back slightly.
"Delete it. I'm sorry."
Ukraine wished the floor would open and accept him immediately. Every part of the room felt painfully awkward. He had accused her of stalking his sushi.
And now she had laughed at his misery.
He was still deciding whether he should say something, anything, when the office door burst open without warning.
Minister Akeshi strode in with his assistant behind him. Two bodyguards remained stationed outside the door as though the building belonged to him.
The smile vanished from Kro's face at once.
The air in the room changed.
Akeshi had just crossed a line.
...
Restaurant
The marketing team's lunch was noisy, bright, and full of laughter.
Stories bounced across the table. Plates clinked. Someone nearly spilled a drink while laughing too hard. Misaki, despite having known these people for such a short time, felt strangely at ease among them.
It was the happiest part of her day.
Then one of the employees came rushing into the restaurant. She dropped into her chair, breathless, eyes wide.
Everyone stared.
"Guys!" Kara gasped. "Minister Akeshi is at headquarters!"
Misaki's fork slipped from her fingers. Her stomach dropped instantly. She had hoped this day would never come.
Though she never said it aloud, she had always known her father might do something reckless after she got the job. Some part of her had been bracing for it from the start.
Now it was happening.
"Excuse me," she said quickly.
She grabbed her purse and flew from the restaurant.
At that moment, she wished more than anything that she had wheels instead of feet.
...
President's Office
Kro stood in front of her desk with her arms folded, staring at Minister Akeshi with chilling stillness.
"I'm here, Miss Kro," Akeshi announced, as though his presence were an honor.
"Yes," she said coolly. "I can see that."
He smiled without warmth. "You hired my daughter. So I came to return the favor."
"If you're here to thank me, I'll let this intrusion go," Kro replied. "But you don't look happy for her. Which makes me wonder why you approached me in the first place."
Ukraine stood beside her, silent, uncertain, but unable to walk away. He did not yet understand the full history between them, yet the tension alone was enough to tell him this moment mattered.
Akeshi snapped his fingers.
His assistant stepped forward and opened the briefcase.
The money was still there.
Ten million Azaradan shillings.
The same bribe Kro had refused.
Akeshi grabbed one bundle, tore off the rubber band, and flung it at her face.
"TAKE IT!" he shouted. "DIDN'T YOU GIVE MISAKI THE JOB JUST TO GET BACK AT ME? WHAT? YOU WANT MORE?"
He grabbed another bundle.
And another.
And another.
He threw them at her one after the other like he was tipping a dancer.
Even his assistant looked shocked.
Ukraine's hands curled into fists. He was already moving, ready to step in, when Kro lifted a hand just enough to stop him.
Unfortunately for the minister, Loro was gone.
There was no one left to cool the fire inside Kro once it started.
She stepped forward slowly.
Calmly.
Treading over the scattered money as though it were nothing more than paper trash. Her expression alone should have warned him to run.
But Akeshi stood frozen in place.
"I am the minister of Knnew Republic," he snapped. "If you lay a finger on me—"
He never finished. Kro's finger landed against his chest with a hard, deliberate shove.
Akeshi stumbled backward, nearly losing his balance entirely.
His face changed.
Pride cracked.
Fear leaked through.
Kro kept moving toward him, and he retreated step for step until she was close enough to seize him by the collar and drag him forward as easily as though he weighed nothing.
"You—you don't know what you're getting yourself into!" he stammered.
Kro's voice came low and dry.
"And you don't know what I'm capable of when provoked, Minister Akeshi."
That was enough for Ukraine.
He moved quickly, grabbed Kro, and pulled her back before the moment broke into something far worse. He wasn't ready to see whatever her dark side looked like when fully unleashed.
He stepped between them, facing the minister now.
"With all due respect, sir, please leave the office before something serious happens."
Akeshi's assistant bristled.
"She assaulted the minister first."
Ukraine didn't look at him.
"We have cameras in this office," he said. "He was the one who threw money at her face. We can file reports for several things today."
Only then did he glance briefly at the assistant.
"So how about you choose a better day to solve this peacefully?"
Akeshi tugged at his suit, his forehead slick with sweat. Rage had reddened his face almost beyond reason. He looked like a man who had just realized, too late, that humiliation could come from someone he had already decided to underestimate.
"I'm going to destroy you!" he snarled at Kro before storming out with his assistant behind him.
The door slammed.
Silence followed.
Ukraine turned immediately toward Kro. But the expression he found on her face stopped him cold.
She was glaring at him.
"What?" he said at once. "I tried to manage the situation."
"Do you think it got managed?" she asked. "No. It got worse."
Her voice was clipped and furious.
"I'm already used to being approached by disgusting men. Next time, don't pull me back."
Ukraine stared, "He's a minister of this country. What if you had hit him?"
"Men like him don't deserve warnings or respect," she said. "What they need is a proper beating."
She exhaled, tucked her hair behind her ears, and turned away from him.
"Weren't you going to lunch? I need to be alone. Go."
She walked back to her desk.
"And call the janitor to clean this up."
Ukraine nodded and left the office without another word.
...
Ukraine leaned against the closed door outside and finally let himself breathe. His chest rose and fell hard, as though only now remembering it had permission.
Then he looked down at his own hands. The same hands that had grabbed Kro's shoulders without hesitation. The same hands that, only days ago, had trembled when they first touched her.
He frowned.
Back then, her coldness had felt impossible.
Terrifying.
Dead.
But now—
He had pulled her back on instinct, and all he had felt in that moment was urgency.
Concern.
Something alarmingly close to protectiveness.
Ukraine stared at his hands as though they belonged to someone else.
"Was I just…" he murmured, almost disbelieving himself, "worried about her?"
***