Chapter
"To make her fall for him"
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(Eyan's Chamber)
Eyan sat stiffly on a carved wooden chair, one leg crossed over the other, a thick book resting in his hand.
Its title made his expression darken.
"How to Make a Woman Fall in Love."
He stared at it for a long moment, brows knitting together.
"…Ridiculous," he muttered under his breath.
Yet—he didn't put it down. Instead, he flipped it open.
His sharp eyes scanned the pages, his face slowly shifting from skepticism… to deep concentration.
"Women are creatures of emotion and imagination. They are drawn to what feels like destiny."
"…Destiny?" Eyan scoffed lightly. "So I'm supposed to what—trip over her repeatedly until she surrenders?"
Still… he turned the page.
"If a woman meets the same man again and again, she begins to believe it is fate."
His fingers paused. A slow, thoughtful silence filled the room.
"…Again and again…" he murmured.
Then his jaw tightened slightly.
"…She did say we keep meeting."
A flicker of something unreadable crossed his eyes.
He continued reading.
"Women favor gentle men. A soft smile is more powerful than a thousand bold words."
Eyan's expression immediately hardened.
"…A smile?"
He touched his lips unconsciously, as if testing the unfamiliar concept.
"…That sounds exhausting."
Still—he didn't dismiss it.
"They dislike aggressive men. Harshness pushes them away."
That made him go quiet.
A faint memory flashed—Eva flinching… her eyes filled with fear.
His grip on the page tightened.
"…I see."
For once, there was no sarcasm. Only realization.
He turned the page again.
"When a woman looks into a man's eyes and sees love reflected back at her, her heart will waver."
Eyan blinked.
"…That's obvious." Then, after a pause— "…Is it?"
His gaze dropped, unfocused for a moment, as if replaying every time Eva had looked at him…
…and every time he had looked away first.
The final line made him stop completely.
"Lastly, women adore men who can cook."
Silence.
Then—
"…What?"
Eyan stared at the sentence as if it had personally insulted him.
"…Cooking?"
He leaned back slowly, disbelief written all over his face.
"I am the Emperor of Velmoria… and I must cook to make a woman fall in love with me?"
A long pause.
Then—
"…I don't know how to cook."
Another pause.
His eyes narrowed with sudden resolve.
"…Then I'll learn."
_________________________________
(Palace Kitchen)
The kitchen, usually calm and controlled, erupted into chaos the moment Eyan stepped inside.
Servants froze.
Utensils clattered.
The royal chef nearly dropped an entire tray of freshly prepared pastries.
"Y-Your Majesty?!" the chef stammered, rushing forward. "Is something wrong? Did the food—"
"Teach me how to cook."
The words landed like thunder.
The chef blinked.
"…I beg your pardon?"
"I said," Eyan repeated, his tone firm, "teach me how to cook."
The entire kitchen fell into stunned silence.
"…Now."
Moments later—
Eyan stood at the center of the kitchen, sleeves rolled up (reluctantly), staring down at a pile of ingredients like they were enemies on a battlefield.
The chef stood beside him, still visibly shaken.
"We'll start simple, Your Majesty," he said carefully. "Perhaps… an omelette?"
"…Fine."
Eyan picked up an egg. He examined it.
"…And what exactly am I supposed to do with this?"
"Crack it, Your Majesty."
Eyan nodded once.
Then—crack.
The egg shattered violently against the bowl, shell pieces dropping in along with the yolk.
The chef flinched.
"…Gently, Your Majesty."
"…It broke, didn't it?"
"Yes, but—"
"Then it's fine."
The chef looked like he wanted to argue… but chose life instead.
A few minutes later—
Eyan was whisking eggs with a serious expression, as if conducting a military operation.
"…My arm is getting tired."
"That means you're doing it correctly, Your Majesty."
"…This is inefficient."
Then came the pan. The butter melted too quickly. The eggs cooked unevenly.
At one point, Eyan stared at the pan with visible suspicion.
"…Why is it sticking?"
"You must control the heat, Your Majesty."
"…It's fire. It should obey."
Despite his complaints…
He didn't stop. Not once.
His movements became more precise. His focus sharpened.
He listened—actually listened—to every instruction.
Because for the first time…
This wasn't about pride. It wasn't about power. It wasn't even about winning.
It was about her.
After several failed attempts—
One slightly acceptable omelette sat on the plate.
Eyan stared at it. "…It looks… mediocre."
The chef hesitated. "…It is… a great improvement, Your Majesty."
Eyan ignored that.
He folded his arms, gaze unwavering.
"…Again."
"Y-Your Majesty?"
"I said again."
His voice was calm. But absolute.
"I won't stop until I get it right."
A pause.
Then, quieter—almost to himself—
"…If this is what it takes…"
His eyes darkened with determination.
"…then I'll master it."
And so—
The Emperor of Velmoria, feared across kingdoms… Spent the entire morning in the kitchen.
Burning, failing, learning— And trying again.
All for one thing.
To make Eva fall in love with him.
__________________________________
(Two Days Later — Velmoria Market)
The marketplace buzzed with life—vendors shouting, children laughing, the scent of spices and fresh bread weaving through the air.
And in the middle of it all—
Eyan stood waiting. Still. Silent. Watching. His eyes scanned the crowd with quiet intensity… until—
He saw her.
Eva.
The moment she stepped into view, something in him stilled completely.
Then—
He moved. In a blink, he appeared right in front of her.
Eva startled slightly, her steps halting.
Eyan spoke first, his voice calm, almost rehearsed—
"I was waiting for you."
Eva blinked. "W-waiting…? Why?"
For a split second, he hesitated. Then he straightened slightly.
"…I brought something for you."
From behind his back, he revealed a small box. Opening it, he held out a cupcake.
"…Today is my birthday," he added, almost stiffly. "So I thought… I should treat you."
Eva's expression softened immediately. A warm smile curved her lips.
"Happy birthday," she said gently.
Then she took the cupcake. Without hesitation— She took a bite.
Eyan watched her carefully. Too carefully.
Her reaction mattered more than he expected.
"…How is it?" he asked, voice lower now.
Eva chewed, then nodded with a small smile. "It's tasty."
Eyan blinked. "…Really?"
A pause.
"…I didn't taste it."
Before she could react— He picked one up and took a bite.
Eva's eyes widened. "W-wait—!"
Too late.
Eyan chewed once. Twice. Then his expression froze.
A second later—
He immediately spat it out, turning slightly. "…I forgot to add sugar."
Eva burst into a soft laugh, her cheeks still slightly puffed from the bite she had taken.
The sound hit him unexpectedly.
Light...Warm....Alive.
For a moment— He just stared at her. Then reality snapped back.
His brows furrowed.
"Lady Eva—" his voice turned urgent, almost panicked, "forgive me. You shouldn't eat that."
"It's okay—" she began, still smiling.
But then— Her expression shifted. A cough. Then another. Her hand flew to her throat.
Eyan's eyes widened. "Lady Eva?"
She began choking.
Panic hit him instantly. Without thinking, he stepped behind her, his arms wrapping around her as he pressed firmly against her stomach—
Once....Twice.
"Breathe," he said sharply, his voice tight.
"Come on—breathe."
Another press—
Then suddenly—
She gasped. Air rushed back into her lungs. Her body sagged slightly in relief.
Eyan froze behind her, his hands still hovering as if afraid to touch her again.
"…Are you alright?" he asked quietly.
Eva nodded, catching her breath.."I'm… fine."
He stepped back slowly. His expression had completely changed.
Guilt. Heavy. Suffocating.
"I almost—" his voice cut off.
His jaw tightened.
"I'm sorry."
Eva shook her head gently, offering him a small, reassuring smile. "It's okay."
But for him—
It wasn't.
_______________________________
(Palace — That Night)
Eyan stood alone in his chamber. The room was silent. Too silent.
His hand clenched into a fist. "…I almost killed her."
The words came out low. Disbelieving. Angry. At himself.
He ran a hand through his hair, pacing once… twice…
"…Cooking," he scoffed bitterly. "What a joke."
His expression darkened.
"I can't even do something this simple without putting her in danger."
He stopped walking. Staring at nothing. "…Pathetic."
______________________________
(Four Days Later — A Bakery)
The bell chimed softly as the door opened.
Warm light filled the small bakery, the scent of fresh bread wrapping around the air.
Eva stood near the counter. Eyan stepped inside moments later.
He paused just enough— Then acted as if he hadn't noticed her.
Walking past her. Calm. Unbothered.
"…Lord Kyel?"
Her voice stopped him. He turned slightly, feigning mild surprise.
"Lady Eva."
Their eyes met.
And just like that— Another "coincidence" was born.
They talked....Briefly.
Like strangers pretending not to be something more.
________________________________
(Two Months Later — Eyan's Chamber)
The room was dim.
Even the sunlight felt distant today.
Eyan stood near the window, the curtains shifting softly with the wind. His shoulders were slightly slumped—something that would have been unthinkable for the Emperor of Velmoria.
"…It's been two months already."
His voice was quiet. Tired.
Not angry. Not frustrated. Just… worn down.
"No progress." The words lingered in the air like something heavy.
Slowly, his hand moved. From inside his coat, he pulled out a small velvet box.
Then—
Click...The lid lifted.
Inside, a delicate ring caught the faint light.
Simple....Elegant....Carefully chosen.
For her.
Eyan's gaze softened… just a little.
"…I even bought this," he murmured. A humorless breath escaped him. "What was I thinking…"
His thumb brushed lightly against the edge of the ring.
Then slowly curled into a fist.
"…I don't think she likes me."
There was no bitterness in it. Only quiet acceptance.
"I shouldn't expect anything." His jaw tightened faintly. "…I can't force my feelings on her."
He looked at the ring one last time.
A long silence passed.
Then—
Snap.
The box shut...Firm...Final.
He walked to the window. And with a single motion—
He threw it.
The small box disappeared into the open air, swallowed by the distance below.
Gone....Just like that.
Eyan stood there, unmoving. The wind brushed past him, cold against his skin.
"…She told me to meet her at the Harvest Festival....but i will not go.."
"I'll meet her next day, and end things there."
His throat tightened slightly—but he forced the words out anyway.
"I'll tell her I'm leaving.…Going to another state."
His eyes lowered.
"…Let's not meet again, Eva."
The sentence came out almost like a whisper.
Eyan closed his eyes slowly.
"…This is for the best."
But the way his chest tightened… The way his hand unconsciously clenched—Said otherwise.
Still—
He didn't take it back. Didn't change his mind. Because for the first time since he started chasing her— Eyan chose to let her go.
Even if it meant…Walking away with a heart that refused to follow.
__________________________________
(Harvest Festival — Eyan's POV)
He told himself he wouldn't come. He even almost convinced himself. But the moment the sun began to set— He was already running.
"Lady Eva!"
His voice broke through the fading noise of the festival.
He finally reached her, breath uneven, chest rising and falling as if he had run through the entire city just to find her.
Because he had.
"Lady Eva," he said between breaths, trying to steady himself, "I'm sorry I'm late. Tell me—what did you want to talk about?"
She smiled looking at him.. And everything inside him softened instantly.
"It's nothing important," she said lightly. "I just wanted to ask if you will marry me?"
—
Everything exploded.
Not outside...Inside him...Like a sky full of fireworks bursting all at once—loud, bright, uncontrollable.
Eyan froze. "…What?"
His mind went completely blank.
Did she just—
No… she didn't…
She did.
His heart slammed violently against his chest.
"I fell in love with you at first sight," she continued. "So I was wondering… if you would marry me."
Eyan's face burned. His entire body felt like it had frozen— Except his heart.
She… loves me?
Me?
Eva lifted her eyes and looked at him.
Why is she… why is she looking at me like that—
Why does she look like she might get hurt if I don't answer—
His chest tightened. He saw it then— That tiny flicker of doubt in her eyes.
The way she forced a smile. "It's alright, Kyel. If you don't want to, it's not like I'm forcing y—"
"I'll DO it."
The words left him before he could think. Before he could stop himself.
Eva blinked. "…What?"
Eyan swallowed, suddenly aware of how fast his heart was beating.
"The marriage," he said, softer now—but certain. "I'll do it."
Of course I will.
Are you even asking?
You think I'd let this go?
You think I'd let YOU go?
His ears burned as reality settled in.
She proposed to me.
This is real.
This is actually happening.
"But…" he added quickly, flustered now, "I don't have a ring with me."
Idiot.
You had one.
You threw it away like a fool.
Then— She reached into her pocket. "I have the rings."
Eyan froze again.
She… prepared?
She planned this?
For me?
Something warm spread through his chest—so intense it almost hurt.
He stared at the simple silver rings in her hand.
They weren't grand. They weren't royal. But to him— They felt more precious than anything he had ever owned.
A slow smile formed on his lips. Real. Unrestrained. Gentle.
He took one ring carefully, as if it might disappear if he moved too fast.
Then—
He reached for her hand.
Don't mess this up.
Be normal.
He slipped the ring onto her finger. Then, without thinking too much— He lowered his head and pressed a soft kiss against her hand.
Her skin was warm. Real.
Eva smiled...
"Thank you," she whispered. "For choosing me."
Eyan's smile deepened slightly. His chest felt so full it was almost unbearable.
Choosing you?
Eva… I've been losing my mind over you for months.
"No," he replied quietly. "Thank you for choosing me."
He kissed her hand again. As if saying thank you.. which he was
After pressing that soft kiss to her hand, Eyan didn't let go immediately.
For a brief second, he just… stayed there. As if grounding himself in the reality of her.
Then, clearing his throat lightly, he straightened.
"…It's late," he said, voice gentler than usual. "I'll walk you home."
Eva nodded with a gentle smile.
They began walking side by side, the festival lights fading behind them, the night growing softer, quieter.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
Eyan's gaze drifted down—To her hand. His fingers twitched slightly.
I want to hold it.
No… don't rush.
What if she pulls away?
His hand moved a little closer—
Then stopped.
Pulled back.
Then again—
Closer.
Until—
His fingers brushed lightly against hers.
He froze.
That was accidental.
Stay calm.
But before he could retreat— Eva's hand moved. She gently grabbed his.
Eyan stilled completely, his breath catching.
She… held my hand.
Warmth spread instantly through his chest.
Slowly, as if afraid the moment might break, he tightened his grip just a little—
Then carefully intertwined their fingers.
Perfect. Like they belonged that way. A small, soft smile touched his lips.
And this time—
He didn't let go.