Emily reread her message to Apollo for the fifteenth time.
"Yes, I'm still alive."
The words looked absurd on the screen, like a glitch the universe hadn't corrected. Her heart thudded as she waited.
Three dots blinked.
Then Apollo replied fast and sharp, exactly how he'd react when something dangerous was unfolding.
"Emily, you need to call me. Now. We have to discuss the next step. Whoever staged your death may still be watching you."
She exhaled slowly and typed, "Okay. I'll call you later tonight."
He replied immediately.
"Good. And Emily… stay safe. I'm here. Whatever you need."
A simple message, but it warmed her chest.
Apollo didn't question her. He didn't dramatize anything. He slipped right into strategy mode her friend, her ally, the one person from her old world she could trust without hesitation.
She stared at the chat for a moment, letting that sense of safety settle.
Emily woke up with the sound of her phone buzzing.
She ignored it the first time but the phone buzzed again.
She struggled to open her eyes and picked the phone.
The caller ID made her sit straight.
Peter Smith.
Her current father.
She cleared her throat and answered. "Dad?"
"Emily," he said gently, "don't forget we're having the family dinner this evening. Make sure Timothy comes with you."
She blinked. "Must I bring Timothy?"
"You said it was a family dinner"
"Yes. Both of you. And please don't be late."
He ended the call before she could ask why Timothy was suddenly required.
Emily dropped her phone on the bed and let out a sigh. "Great. Dinner. Perfect."
—------------------
The Smith dining hall always felt like a stage where everyone pretended they weren't acting. Tonight, the tension was already sitting at the table waiting for them.
Emily walked in with Timothy beside her. He nodded politely to her father, but totally ignored her stepmother and Stephanie,who turned pale when he glanced at them. then sat next to Emily like a silent shield.
Emily felt oddly exposed. Timothy kept glancing at her not in a controlling way, but like he was reading the atmosphere around her and not liking what he found.
She forced a smile and tried to eat. It didn't work. Her mind kept drifting to Apollo's messages and wondering what the results of his findings would be
Timothy leaned close.
"You're somewhere else."
"I'm just tired," she muttered.
"No. You're thinking too loudly. I can hear it."
She scowled. "Mind your business."
"When you stop broadcasting your thoughts across the entire room, I will."
Even her father noticed. "Emily, you're quiet today."
"I'm fine," she said but Timothy shot her a look that clearly said she wasn't fooling anyone.
She reached for wine.
Then another glass.
Then more.
Timothy's jaw flexed each time. "Emily… go slow."
She waved him off. "I know my limit"
Doesn't seem like you do to me"
Even as a princess, Emily had never been able to hold her alcohol. Her wine glasses always gets swapped with orange juice during banquets and royal functions
So by the time dinner ended, her face was already swollen like a giant water melon and she was looking so cute with her white face tainted with pink blush
Outside, she tripped over the smooth floor and fell straight into Timothy's arms.
"You're warm," she murmured dramatically. "So warm. Like my palace duvet."
Timothy stopped breathing. "…Your what?"
"My palace duvet," she repeated, eyes wide and proud. "The one in my palace. Where I am princess. Obviously."
He stared at her, stunned. "Princess of where exactly?"
"This Kingdom of cause," she said confidently, tapping his nose. "Are you one of my guards?"
Timothy blinked. "Emily… what kingdom?"
But she didn't answer.
She suddenly clung to him tighter, whispering nonsense about "royal chambers" and "protocols" and "guards who walk too loudly at night."
He had never seen her like this unguarded, childish, oddly adorable.
A complete contrast to the composed, careful girl she always tried to be.
"Emily…" he tried again, gently. "Tell me what you mean by kingdom."
But her head dropped onto his shoulder.
Fast asleep.
Timothy let out a breath somewhere between disbelief and quiet amusement. "You're impossible."
He carried her into the car and rested her head on his shoulder while the driver drove towards the Grant's Mansion.
When the car packed at the doorstep of the house, He lifted her carefully, carried her inside, and laid her on her bed. He brushed her hair from her cheek, studying her face.
This close, her vulnerability was impossible to ignore.
"Who exactly are you, Emily…?" he whispered.
She mumbled something about "royal decrees" and "unruly guards."
He sighed, tucked her in, and stepped out quietly.
—--------------------
When Emily woke up, her skull was beating war drums.
She groaned, burying her face in her pillow. "Water"
Timothy knocked once and entered with a glass of water like a man delivering judgment. "Drink."
She gulped it dramatically. "Timothy… be honest. Did I embarrass myself?"
His face broke into the slowest, most evil smile.
"You hugged me. You kissed me. You called me your 'royal guard.' And you said I feel like your palace duvet."
She buried herself under the blanket. "Kill me."
"I'm very tempted."
She peeked out, mortified. "Tell me I didn't say anything else."
"You also mentioned a kingdom."
His voice was low. Probing. Curious.
Her heart skipped.
Before she could answer, her phone rang.
Chai Tiang.
Emily answered instantly. "Tiang?"
"Emily! School is resuming next week. Do you want to go shopping today?"
"Yes," she said quickly. "God, yes."
"Good. I'll text you the time!"
Emily dropped the phone and faced Timothy, who was still studying her like a puzzle he intended to solve.
"Don't look at me like that. I am going back to sleep"
Then she buried her head under the pillow and soon slept off.
Timothy stayed back in the room after she slept off and gazed at her small white face for a while
"What are you hiding from me Emily"
He adjusted her cover before leaving the room.