The Prodigal Prince - vanish into fiction

She looked uncomfortable, curled up like a bean worm. He didn’t bear any responsibility to make her sleep comfortably, but unable to resist his personal desire to touch her, Louis picked her up in his arms.

Even accounting for their difference in build, she felt far too light. Every time he held her, he felt the same way. As if continuing from their first meeting, she reminded him of a bird that had flown down from the sky. Even the way her neck rose and fell with each breath was as delicate as a bird’s throat.

After laying her on the bed, he stared down at her quietly.

It was hard to fully understand what lay within Enze, but her eyelids, so translucent the capillaries showed through, looked rather pure. It was a different feeling from the people around him, who all had something sordid to hide.

‘So defenseless.’

He worried she might sleep like this in other places too. Compelled by the urge to tease her, he reached out and brushed aside the fine hairs scattered across her white forehead.

“What’s with this fever now?”

She was not only fragile but also weak. With a constant stream of muttering complaints, he soaked a towel in cold water and laid it across her forehead. She was fascinating, like having brought a wild bird into the house—but also troublesome in many ways.

He had no desire to share the bed with her. Instead, he dragged over a chair and sat down, enjoying a long look at her sleeping face.

As the morning light grew hazy, he left the hotel first.

***

Her memory cut off after two glasses of whiskey.

When Enze opened her eyes in Louis’s bed, she silently screamed and clutched her head. She couldn’t remember anything about what had happened the night before. The time she’d spent with him had been completely erased. The empty void in her memory was terrifying.

She had always had a low tolerance for alcohol, but it had never been this bad. After the major incident at the train station and catching a cold from the cold rain, the alcohol had hit her harder than usual.

Enze returned early to Hellbrunn Castle in the carriage sent to pick her up. Louis was away. She spent the day restlessly, and when she heard he had returned, she asked to meet him. The prince was notoriously difficult to see, so when Anya managed to get her the appointment, Enze grew tense. Maybe the events of yesterday were serious enough for him to make time for her.

She was guided past the reception room where she’d previously met him and into his private office.

Seated at the edge of a large mahogany desk, he was flipping through documents when he cast her a brief glance. Enze bowed politely, unsure of what to ask first.

“Thank you for sparing some time, despite your busy schedule.”

The indifferent gaze that had met hers dropped away.

“State your business.”

His reply was curt, like ice.

Louis didn’t even look at her as he turned the page.

A chill settled over the office.

If she had done anything to offend the prince the night before, she needed to apologize. Her voice came out barely audible.

“About yesterday… I’m worried I may have made a mistake.”

His hand, gripping the pile of papers, paused. His sharp jawline tilted slightly.

She bit her lip. It was time to confess the shameful truth—that her memory had blacked out. Her face flushed red, close to bursting.

“When I woke up… I was in your bed, Your Highness.”

Suddenly, Louis threw the papers onto the desk.

He finally turned to look at her and let out a dry, incredulous laugh.

There was suspicion in his sharp gaze.

Watching Enze nearly on the verge of tears, he rolled his eyes. His narrowed eyes seemed to express contempt, as if she didn’t even know her own drinking limit.

“How much do you remember?”

She wanted to die from embarrassment.

“I remember drinking two glasses. Then going back to my room… and after that…”

She trailed off into a mumble, biting her tongue. Unable to finish, she simply shook her head. She could only pray that nothing terrible had happened during the missing time.

At that moment, she was already thinking of fleeing.

Louis stared at her, his gaze sliding up and down as if studying a strange creature. She felt like she’d become some troublesome burden he didn’t know what to do with.

He brought a clenched fist to his mouth and let out a low sound in his throat. Whether it was a sigh or a bitter laugh, she couldn’t tell.

Because Louis was difficult to read, Enze interpreted his reactions in the worst possible light. Whatever had happened—it felt like it had been serious.

Louis lowered his head slowly. His fingers tapped lightly on the corner of the desk as if in thought. The soft, repetitive noise made Enze’s entire focus zero in on it.

Finally, his lips parted with smooth motion.

“It was me who brought you in.”