Chapter : 1. A Secret Dream
A man strode swiftly through a magnificent, beautiful corridor.
His neatly combed blond hair was swept back, and beneath his smooth forehead lay a pair of thick, well-shaped eyebrows.
Centered around a straight, high nose, his strikingly handsome face was perfectly symmetrical. The crowning feature of that face was his green eyes tinged with crimson.
They were the eyes of someone born to rule—filled with both dignity and arrogance.
Yet despite the composed expression on his face, there was an unmistakable urgency in his footsteps.
Turning a corner, he climbed a staircase, crossed the landing, and walked down another corridor until a beautiful white door came into view.
At last, a crack appeared in the statue-like expression that had shown no emotion until now.
The moment he pushed the door open, it felt as though dazzling white light poured into the room.
A gentle breeze seemed to drift toward him, and it was as if time itself—frozen until that instant—had begun to flow again.
The man’s gaze fixed on a single figure.
Her wavy jet-black hair stood out vividly in the pure white room. A smooth, luminous forehead, eyebrows as dark as her hair, black eyes beneath them, and rounded ears tucked behind strands of her hair.
Sensing someone’s presence, she slowly raised her head.
The moment their eyes met, her large eyes widened even more. Her red lips parted, revealing teeth as white as pearls.
The man forgot to breathe.
“Noah!”
At the bright voice filled with joy, the man who had stood motionless all this time walked toward her.
An inexplicable fear gripped him, as though her clear, lovely face might disappear at any moment.
Noah leaned over her hurriedly as she sat on the sofa.
Supporting her slender neck carefully with one hand, he captured her rose-red lips in a desperate kiss.
The sweet scent brushing against his nose and the soft warmth dampening his lips made his entire body feel as though it were melting from within.
“Haa…”
Her fragile, trembling breath ignited an unbearable thirst inside him.
Every one of his senses seemed to drive him forward.
Tilting his head further, Noah buried his face against the nape of her neck. Then, using his teeth, he gently pulled down the strap of the dress that barely clung to her pale shoulder.
The dazzling white of her skin contrasted beautifully against her black hair.
“Noah…”
Her voice, hazy with heat, whispered into his ear, making even his thoughts feel as though they were melting.
Breathing heavily, Noah gently kissed the smooth curve of her shoulder.
Her soft cries tickled his ears, while the warm, delicate sensation lingered on his tongue.
For a moment, he felt as though it wouldn’t matter if the world ended just like this.
Feeling her fingers carefully stroking his hair, Noah slowly raised his head.
A clear, elegant face gazed back at him.
Looking at his own reflection in her pitch-black eyes, Noah whispered,
“Olivia.”
Noah’s eyes flew open.
Harsh breaths escaped between his perfectly shaped lips—far too ragged for someone who had merely been asleep.
He tried to calm his muddled mind, but the familiar ceiling came into view with cruel certainty.
Without realizing it, Noah held his breath and shut his eyes again.
“…Crazy bastard!”
The curse forced its way through clenched teeth as he roughly rubbed his face several times.
Even that wasn’t enough to vent his frustration, so he repeatedly slammed the back of his head against the innocent pillow.
Only his rough breathing filled the silent bedroom.
After several deep breaths, Noah threw off the blanket, got out of bed, and sat on the edge of it.
Resting his elbows on his knees, he buried his face in his hands.
Against his will, a voice he had never actually heard echoed in his mind.
“Noah…”
At the sound of his name spoken in that clear voice, Noah finally let out a bitter laugh.
“I’ve lost it. Have my urges been piling up or something? Seriously…”
Leaning forward, he struggled to regain control of the emotions that refused to settle.
That calm, crystal-clear voice had never once trembled.
Nor had it ever dared to speak his name.
No.
It never could.
The word she had always spoken wasn’t “Noah.”
It was…
“Your Highness.”
Nor had those black eyes, clouded with passion, ever looked at him.
Nor had those slender arms ever wrapped around his neck.
Every bit of it was nothing more than a fantasy created by Noah Astrid.
“What a rotten way to start the morning.”
Scoffing at himself, Noah glanced toward the silver flashlight lying on the bedside table.
It had served him well for quite some time, but it had finally broken yesterday.
Olivia.
He had thought he would forget that name within a month.
Yet it refused to leave his mind.
And that wasn’t all.
He wasn’t some lovestruck teenager.
What kind of grown man had dreams like that?
Clicking his tongue in irritation, Noah unfolded the newspaper on the bedside table, hoping to distract himself.
He skimmed through the front-page article about the fallen Polia royal family until his gaze stopped on one headline.
[Olivia Liberty Appointed as the First Female Professor.]
That name again.
Noah’s frown deepened as his eyes drifted to the black-and-white photograph beneath the headline.
A graceful woman in a shirt and flared skirt smiled gently toward the camera.
Just as she had in the newspaper where he had first seen her over two years ago.
About two years earlier.
Herollington, the capital of the Kingdom of Herot.
A grand mansion located in Upper River, an area famous for its outrageously expensive land.
Having returned home only around midnight after finally attending the last event of the day, Noah woke early the next morning.
“Ha… Damn it.”
He was exhausted.
But more than that, he was in a foul mood.
After yesterday’s endless procession of official events, he already knew exactly what would be shoved in front of him this morning.
How could he possibly be in a good mood?
His eyes shifted toward the bedside table.
There it was.
Today’s morning newspaper.
Noah quickly snatched it up and opened it to the front page.
Never before had he wanted his own face on the front page as badly as today.
But life was never that accommodating.
The instant he saw the enormous photograph of his uncle, Noah squeezed his eyes shut and unleashed a string of furious curses.
“Ha… Damn it! Damn this to hell!”
Jumping to his feet, Noah flung the newspaper containing his detestable uncle’s face across the room.
All of yesterday’s efforts had gone completely to waste.
He had attended no fewer than seven different events in an attempt to bury the story, yet he still couldn’t prevent his uncle from earning the honor of dominating the front page.
“Why the hell do I have to clean up the mess my uncle made?!”
His royal father would undoubtedly summon him today and explode in anger once again.
The thought alone made Noah’s blood boil.
He grabbed a cigarette and stepped out onto the balcony.
Just as he was about to light it, Betty, the head maid of the estate, entered the room while pushing a breakfast cart.
Without taking his eyes off the sky, Noah leaned against the balcony railing and spoke.
“Thank you. Just leave it there.”
The prince appeared to be in an exceptionally foul mood.
As Betty quickly arranged the meal on the table, she stole a glance at him.
His smooth facial lines looked as though they had been delicately carved by a master craftsman.
Even a passing glance at his perfectly balanced features was enough to inspire admiration.
Though he was tall and broad-shouldered, his refined face—and perhaps the graceful manners ingrained in his every movement—gave him an elegant, almost delicate presence.
Noah was generally polite even to those beneath him, making him easy enough to serve.
However, he never allowed personal relationships with the servants.
Anyone who dared cross that invisible line was dismissed without hesitation.
After pouring a fresh cup of black tea, Betty quietly excused herself.
Once she had left, Noah picked up the newspaper from the bed and sat before the steaming breakfast.
Despite the height of summer, he took a sip of the hot tea while glaring coldly at his uncle’s photograph before turning several pages.
He had attended seven separate events.
Yet the paper barely mentioned him at all.
“So all that suffering was for nothing.”
He muttered bitterly and was about to snap the newspaper shut when something caught his eye.
[Olivia Liberty Selected as Herollington University’s Top Graduate. Also Receives an Invitation from the First Lady of Pulder.]
Noah’s gaze slowly traveled downward.
In a small photograph no larger than the palm of his hand, a neatly dressed young woman wearing a shirt and flared skirt stood beside Professor Princess Marguerite, smiling brightly.
Her shy smile was unexpectedly beautiful.
“Herollington University’s top graduate… Olivia Liberty.”
As Noah quietly rolled her name around in his mouth, hurried footsteps echoed outside.
The smooth line between his brows instantly furrowed again.
An impatient knock rang through the room, followed immediately by the door flying open as his secretary, Meston, rushed inside.
Before Meston could say a word, Noah set the newspaper down on the table and stood up.
“Ten minutes.”
As if there were no point saying anything else, Meston simply closed the door again.
Noah pulled the servant’s bell cord.
As expected, the true completion of fashion was the face—and the body.
How could anyone believe such a flawless appearance had been prepared in only ten minutes?
Dressed in a pristine white naval officer’s uniform, Noah sat upright inside the carriage, reviewing documents.
His honey-blond hair, slicked back with pomade, shimmered in the sunlight streaming through the carriage window.
The light was so dazzling that Meston lowered his gaze and watched Noah sign the papers with elegant handwriting.
Even the way he signs his name is graceful. If I could take a picture of this and sell it, I’d make a fortune. Though, of course, His Highness would kill me first.
Sensing his stare, Noah looked up.
“What?”
An air of razor-sharp sensitivity seeped through his otherwise perfectly composed demeanor.
Meston hurriedly shook his head.
“Have you finished?”
Noah slipped his fountain pen into the inside pocket of his jacket and handed over the documents.
“It seems Wilhelm Trading Company is opening a branch in the capital. Increase our investment.”
“By twenty percent?”
“Yes.”
“Understood. Also, today’s schedule consists of three events—one at four, one at five-thirty, and one at seven.”
Noah muttered a curse.
Pretending not to hear it, Meston continued.
“You’ll be heading directly from the palace to the naval headquarters, so I’ll come pick you up there at three-thirty this afternoon.”
“…Don’t bother. Don’t come.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
Meston shrugged.
Noah silently turned his tired gaze toward the scenery outside the window.
Three events today as well.
Unless he somehow diverted the media’s attention and calmed the king’s temper, this merciless parade of public appearances would continue tomorrow…
…and the day after that.
As the golden gates of Herot Royal Palace came into view, Noah suddenly asked,
“Do you know Olivia Liberty?”
Meston looked up from the newspaper.
“Of course. Is there anyone in Herot who doesn’t know her? She’s quite the sensation.”
Apparently reading the same article, Meston pointed at Olivia’s photograph.
Noah scoffed.
“Looking at that picture and calling it sensational? Is there something wrong with you?”
“The youngest commoner ever admitted to Herollington University, the first female university student, and now the top graduate!”
Counting on his fingers, Meston spoke with growing enthusiasm.
“That alone is enough to grab people’s attention. But just look at this face! Honestly, would news about a university student from Pulder, across the sea, normally make it into a Herot newspaper? Then why do you think it did? Even Your Highness, who attended seven events yesterday, didn’t make the paper!”
“…”
After dramatically holding up all seven fingers, Meston sensed the torrent of curses contained in Noah’s icy glare and quickly lowered his head.
“My apologies.”
“So what exactly are you trying to say?”
Noah’s voice was cold enough to send a chill down anyone’s spine.
Watching him carefully, Meston answered,
“I’m just saying she’s incredibly popular—Olivia Liberty. Everyone knows her. And for all the right reasons. Oh, and look, Princess Marguerite came out wonderfully in this picture too.”
Embarrassed, Meston awkwardly pointed at Princess Marguerite instead.
At that moment, the carriage carrying the two of them passed through the royal palace’s magnificent golden gates.
