Felicity's POV.
When I got to school, Penelope hadn't arrived yet. A few students stood chatting near the lecture hall, their laughter echoing down the corridor, so I went inside to wait for her. That's when I saw Chris, surrounded by a group of freshers, laughing too easily, too loudly, and relaxed in a way that made my chest tighten. Whatever they were doing, it definitely wasn't about any project. I quietly walked over to our usual seat and sat down, hoping Penelope would arrive soon. I kept my gaze fixed anywhere but on him.
After last night, I couldn't bring myself to face Chris. I didn't know how to act around him anymore or even know how I felt. Confused? Flustered? Embarrassed? All of it tangled together. What would I even say? I didn't want things to be awkward. Yet here I was, doing everything to make them exactly that. I opened my notebook and pretended to read, when I felt a presence beside me. My heart nearly jumped out of my chest. He'd noticed. He'd come over. He looked carefree. Unbothered. Normal. Like nothing at all had happened the night before.
"Hey, Fel. Don't tell me you didn't see me when you walked in," he said casually, leaning closer.
"Oh hey, Chris. Didn't see you there. Hello, chap," I replied, nudging his elbow and speaking in a pitch far too high to sound natural for my liking. I cringed instantly.
'What the hell was that? Why did I sound like that? Seriously?'
"Yeah, right," he smirked, raising an eyebrow. "You didn't see me or you were avoiding me?"
"Ha! Me? Avoid you? Pfft. Am I crazy? Don't be silly, Chris," I said quickly, tried to brush it off with a laugh.
He studied me for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly. "Hmm. Weird," he murmured. Then he stepped back. "Anyway, Josh is here. Got to go."
"Oh. Cool. See you around," I replied, waving awkwardly.
As soon as he walked away, I buried my face in my palms.
'Oh my goodness. Are you kidding me?' I scolded myself mentally. That was so lame. What is wrong with you, Felicity?'
Thankfully, Penelope arrived a few minutes later, saving me from my spiraling thoughts.
"Thank goodness you're here," I sighed as I exhaled in relief.
"I'm so sorry! I got stuck in traffic and it was horrible," she said as we hugged and sat down.
She tilted her head, studying my face. "You look rattled. Is everything okay?"
"It's nothing," I replied too quickly.
She raised an eyebrow but let it go. "Alright then. Let's focus. What topic are we choosing, nature, love, or something else?"
"Let's go with love," I said softly.
We wrote in silence and just as we finished, the lecturer arrived. We submitted our poem and took our seats.
>>>>>>>>>>
Christopher's POV.
We handed in our poem, and I leaned back in my chair, but I couldn't focus. Even pretending to joke around with the freshers felt exhausting. Felicity's awkward greeting replayed in my mind, kind of adorable in a way, but also proof that something between us had shifted.
Would we ever go back to what we were before, back to how things used to be? Would she ever feel the same way about me? Just as I sat down beside Josh, still thinking about her, my phone buzzed. One glance at the screen and a familiar weight settled in my chest.
Mother:
"Just a reminder, darling. Mia arrives in England on Monday. We're hosting a royal dinner that evening. Be on your best behavior. She's excited to see you."
I stared at the message for a long time, jaw tightening, not even sure what I felt. Dread? Frustrated? Anger? Mia Harrison. The Duchess of Scotland. My childhood companion, now being prepared to be my future queen. I hadn't seen her in years. Back then, she used to run around barefoot in the palace gardens, chasing butterflies and making ridiculous daisy crowns with clumsy fingers. She was the girl I'd known since childhood, the one my parents always subtly hinted I would one day marry. Now, she was returning not as a friend, but as the person chosen to stand beside me. Not willingly, as if my life was some prewritten script. A future chosen without my consent.
Not when my heart belonged to someone else, and all I could think about was Felicity. Sweet, awkward, hilarious, honest Felicity. The girl who didn't know who I really was, who treated me like a normal guy, not a prince tied to a throne. And the irony of it all? The very thing that drew me to her was her sincerity, her lack of pretense and was also what kept me from telling her the truth. She thought I was just Chris. Not Prince Christopher Buckingham Blake the Third. Not the heir to a crown with expectations so heavy, I could barely breathe.
And the worst part? My own father had arranged it all, the marriage, Mia, the dinner, the engagement, the entire royal script. My future. Decided without my voice. Without my consent. Without ever asking what I wanted. How was I supposed to sit through a royal dinner and smile at Mia when every fiber of my being wanted to be with Felicity? How was I meant to pretend my life wasn't being rewritten without me? And how was I supposed to tell Felicity any of this? The bet. My name. The looming marriage. Not yet. Not like this. Not with everything happening so fast. Not when it would break her, destroy whatever fragile beginning we had. Because love wasn't supposed to be a royal duty. Love was meant to be real. And mine already was.
'You don't have a choice', I reminded myself bitterly. 'This is the crown's will.'
But there was one thing I could do, one thing I owed her. I could be honest about how I felt. I ran a hand through my hair, taking a steadying breath. I needed to talk to her. To at least try to fix the tension between us. With resolve tightening in my chest, I stood and walked over to where Felicity and Penelope were sitting, my pulse racing.
"Hey, Fel… can I talk to you?" I asked, my voice quieter than I meant it to be.
She blinked, clearly surprised. "Yeah," she said slowly. "I'm listening. What's up?"
"I mean…" I hesitated, then added, "alone. If that's okay."
Her eyes flicked to Penelope, who only shrugged, already sensing what was coming. "Go on," Penelope said lightly.
Felicity let out a small breath, then stood. "Sure," she replied.
We stepped into the quiet hallway, the door clicking shut behind us. The silence was heavy, thick with everything we hadn't said. I could feel the tension radiating between us, sharp and fragile and yet I knew, this was now or never.
I took a slow breath. "I'm sorry."
She blinked, then frowned slightly, clearly caught off guard. "For what?"
"For everything," I said quietly. "For last night. For pushing you too hard. For saying things I probably should've waited to say. For not giving you the time you needed to process any of it." I paused, my voice faltered. "I didn't mean what I said. I really didn't. I was reckless. You didn't do anything wrong."
I hesitated, the words pressing against my chest, fighting their way out. "Please forgive me," I said softly.
Then, barely above a whisper, almost like I was afraid to hear it out loud, "I… I love you."
She went quiet and looked at me for a moment, her expression unreadable. "I was just…surprised," she said quietly. "It's not that I didn't care. I just…I didn't expect any of it."
"I understand," I said softly. "I just want you to know that I care about you, Fel. A lot. And if I ever seem distant or weird sometimes, it's not because of you. It's just…complicated."
There was a pause. She searched my face. "Complicated how?"
I hesitated, the truth pressing against my chest desperate to be free.
"I'll tell you," I said carefully. "Just… not yet. Please trust me."
She nodded slowly. "Okay."
And in that quiet, honest moment, standing there with her, I realized something. I might not be able to control or fight what the crown demanded of me. But here, with her, maybe I could still choose something for myself. I could still be the man I wanted to be. Not a prince. Just hers.
The truth sat heavy in my chest, unspoken and unresolved. I loved her, yet I was hiding the one thing that could change everything. Loving her meant living with unspoken truths: about who I was, what I carried, and how much I stood to lose if she ever found out. Every smile, every quiet moment between us was built on things I hadn't said. I loved her but the truth remained unspoken, lingering between us like a fragile secret I wasn't ready to break.
>>>>>>>>>>
Noah's POV.
By the time I got home, the house was silent but my mind wasn't. I shut the door behind me and leaned against it, staring at the ceiling, replaying everything. Her fear. Her voice. The way she called his name. Christopher. My jaw tightened. I was fuming. This wasn't a game or was it? I wasn't reckless enough to rush this. I wasn't stupid enough to confront him again. Love wasn't won by force. It was won by patience, by pressure, by letting doubt do the work for you.
I poured myself a glass of water and stood by the window, watching the street below like a chessboard. Every move mattered now. Felicity didn't need another argument. She needed distance. Comparison. Uncertainty. And jealousy… jealousy was a quiet poison. A slow plan began to take shape—clean, believable, harmless on the surface. I'd smile more. Laugh louder. Be seen. Be normal. Be taken. On Monday, I wouldn't arrive alone. I'd have a new girlfriend. Someone effortless. Someone pretty—but not pretty like Felicity. Someone who looked like proof that I had moved on. Someone Felicity would notice without meaning to. Someone who would make her pause, even for half a second. That pause was all I needed.
I wasn't trying to hurt her. I told myself that. I was trying to protect her—from him, from chaos, from a future she didn't understand yet. If she felt jealous, confused, unsettled then maybe she'd finally see what I saw. That Christopher wasn't right for Felicity. I straightened, resolved, settling into my bones. I would take this head-on. Calmly. Strategically. No more warnings. No more words. Just action. And as the night stretched on, I made myself a quiet vow, one I didn't speak aloud, because vows spoken aloud could be broken. I won't lose her. Not to a man who thought love was enough. This wasn't over. It was just beginning.