"Victoria was officially refused as a pair by-"

"By a prince" they finished

"Victoria was officially refused as a pair by-"
"By a prince," Jenny and Clarice said at the same time, eyes still glued to Jenny's phone screen.

There was a beat of stunned silence.

Frederick blinked. "Wait. What?"

I took a slow step forward, feeling the buzz of something huge vibrating in the air. "Refused... like, in what way? Politely passed over? Or-"

Jenny turned her screen around. Royal Mirror. Page One. Blazing headline:

PRINCE MAXWELL DECLINES ROYAL UNION WITH PRINCESS VICTORIA - KING & QUEEN 'RESPECT HIS DECISION FOR A GREATER GOOD'

Underneath it, a photo of Maxwell at what looked like a private meeting with his grandparents, chin high, hands in his pockets, unapologetically defiant. He looked... royal. And rebellious. And terrifyingly sure of himself.

"Oh my god," I breathed.

Clarice was already scrolling through the article. "He didn't just reject her. He publicly declared he would not pursue any alliance or romantic tie with her. The palace confirmed it. It's done."

Frederick made a low whistle. "You really torpedoed the entire plan. Grams was pushing for that one. So was half of Europe."

Jenny showed the next part, wide-eyed. "And listen to this-'Insider sources claim Prince Maxwell cited incompatibility, misalignment of values, and a commitment to choosing his path based on personal connection, not dynastic expectation.'"

My heart skipped.

Those words.

Those exact words.

I looked at him. Maxwell. Still leaning on the pantry door, still trying to act unfazed. But his hands were clenched just a little too tightly.

"You..." I started quietly. "You did this."

"Yup," Amelia said, absolutely giddy. "Blew it all up. And then came to your tennis practice like it was casual news."

Maxwell didn't say anything at first. He just looked at me with that same maddening calm. And when he finally spoke, it was soft but solid. "I wasn't going to pretend anymore."

Frederick gaped. "You're insane." the he chuckled. "More insane than me."

"I know."

"Victoria's family could declare social war."

"I know."

"They can tears you down publicly" Frederick carried on

"I know"

"You literally just tanked the oldest alliance still standing from the Westphalian Concord. Do you know what that even is?"

"Cousin," Maxwell said, not amused. "Are you trying to give me history lessons?"

Jenny was already refreshing the article. "People are speculating like crazy. Some are saying Victoria was too aggressive, too spoiled. Others say she was never liked by the staff or the younger royals. Some believe it's a power move. A statement."

"A few think he's in love," Clarice added, voice flat.

My pulse jumped.

Maxwell turned his head slightly toward me, but didn't say anything.

And of course, Amelia-because she has zero chill-clapped her hands. "He is in love. And it's not a rumor. I saw them. They glowed."

"Amelia," Maxwell muttered, covering his face.

Frederick turned toward us slowly, eyes narrowing. "Wait... them?"

Jenny stepped forward, holding out the phone like it was sacred. "Maxwell, you are trending."

"I know."

"You're being called the 'Uncrowned Rebel.'"

"Sounds better than 'Emotional Ice Sculpture,'" Clarice muttered.

"And..." Jenny looked up, mouth half open. "They're calling it the most romantic rebellion in royal history."

"Wait a minute" Frederick said as if he was doing maths in his poor brain.

Frederick turned to me sharply. "Amy."

I froze.

"Wait a second-"

But Amelia clapped her hands again, spinning around. "She is so gonna faint. Someone catch her. Or him. Or both."

Maxwell finally groaned, straightening. "Okay. All of you, stop."

"Not until you admit it," Amelia sang.

"I will not be interrogated by a child eating scrambled eggs."

"You're dating her!"

"No comment."

"You're in love!"

"Still no comment."

"You're glowing."

"Definitely her gloss."

"Caught!" Amelia pointed like she had won a game show.

Jenny squealed like she'd just won the lottery. Clarice, ever the composed one, rolled her eyes-but even she couldn't hide the faint smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. And Frederick... well, Frederick nearly dropped his racket like it had burned him.

He blinked once. Then twice.

"Amazing," he said slowly, like the word was a sacred discovery. Then his face broke into the most dramatic grin imaginable. "Finally!" he threw his arms in the air, spinning once for good measure. "You have feelings, cousin! Actual, human feelings! Freaking finally!"

Maxwell groaned, covering his face with one hand.

Frederick turned to me, beaming. "Cherry Tops, I can't lie, I'm devastated. You're absolutely something else. I really actually believe I liked you-" He paused, eyes meeting mine for a fraction too long. Then he blinked like he'd just snapped himself out of a trance and turned quickly back to Maxwell. "Anyway. Point is-I'm proud of you, Max. For once, you didn't run."

I opened my mouth, unsure whether to say thank you or what just happened.

Before I could make a choice, Amelia smacked Frederick on the arm with a victorious little bounce. "You owe me," she said, practically singing the words.

He groaned. "I bet five weeks, Amelia."

"And I said two. We're at three and a half, and I'm close enough. Pay up."

"Hold on," I said, brows rising in absolute betrayal. "You... bet on when we'd start dating?"

Both Amelia and Frederick nodded shamelessly. Frederick was already fishing a crumpled bill out of his pocket.

"Oh my god," I gasped, spinning toward the others. "Not you two too-"

Jenny and Clarice were caught mid-silent exchange of coins behind their backs, like two guilty poker players. Jenny immediately shoved the money into her sock. "What? No. Definitely not."

Clarice gave up the act with a sigh. "She was a solid bet. You were the unstable variable."

"Okay," Maxwell said, rubbing his temples. "This is exactly why I didn't want anyone to know."

"We're in a tennis court surrounded by Royals and nobility," I muttered. "And your little sister basically shouted it to the stars."

Amelia beamed. "And I regret nothing."

Maxwell looked around at the lot of them-Clarice counting coins, Jenny whispering about starting a group chat called #CherryAndThePrince, Frederick adjusting his now slightly ruffled polo, and Amelia smirking like she'd just orchestrated a full rom-com-and sighed.

"Alright," he said, tone low and authoritative. "This stays between us."

Everyone froze. The royal voice had come out.

"I mean it," he continued. "If this leaks, I'll know exactly who to strangle. And unlike some of you, I have diplomatic immunity."

They all nodded, instantly solemn.

But then Amelia leaned in toward me with a grin and whispered just loud enough for everyone to hear, "Don't worry. We'll just subtly plan the wedding in the group chat."

I buried my face in my hands. "I'm going to die."

Maxwell looped an arm around my shoulder. "Not before I do."

"Romantic," Clarice deadpanned.

Frederick chuckled. "No, that's Maxwell."

Maxwell raised an eyebrow at Frederick. "I liked you better before you spoke today."

Frederick shrugged. "Not much surprises me anymore. Except you suddenly turning into Prince Charming. That's just unsettling."

Maxwell rolled his eyes, but Jenny cut in before he could reply, arms crossed and eyebrow arched. "Okay but... real question. How are you going to hide that?"

"Hide what?" I asked, trying not to sound too defensive-or obvious.

Jenny gave me the kind of look that could cut through royal protocol like a hot knife through satin. "Amy, you've always been terrible at hiding anything. When you were mad, the whole dorm knew. When you were sad, you sulked like a Victorian ghost. And now? You're practically glowing."

"I am not glowing," I protested. "I'm just... warm. From the sun."

"It's cloudy," Clarice said flatly, pointing at the completely overcast sky.

"Okay," I said, defeated.

Frederick leaned on his racket, tapping it against his shoe. "Yeah, this is definitely a problem. You're cute, but you've got zero poker face."

Maxwell turned toward the group, hands on his hips, looking all princely and confident. "We'll hide it."

He turned to me, his eyes meeting mine-calm, sure, and quietly dazzling. That subtle shift in his face, that familiar crooked smile, it melted something in me before I could even stop it. And I smiled back like a complete fool.

Clarice squinted. "Yeah. No. That's not going to work."

"We're doomed," I whispered under my breath.

"You're doomed," Clarice corrected, pointing at Maxwell. "You're bringing down a woman with actual potential."

"Hey," Maxwell laughed, playfully offended. "You make it sound like I'm contagious."

"She's got gloss on her lips, Maxwell," Jenny deadpanned. "The same one your sister wears. You've already spread the infection."

"Oh my god," I muttered, covering my face with my hands as the laughter around me bubbled over.

"This is serious," Jenny said, trying not to giggle. "You two need a game plan before you single-handedly derail the monarchy with your adorable lack of subtlety."

Maxwell gave a dramatic sigh. "Fine. Operation Royal Distraction is in effect. Let's lay some ground rules before we end up on the cover of Palace Secrets Weekly under the headline 'Prince Caught Making Eyes at Intern with Teddy Bear.'"

I groaned. "Please stop reminding me I brought a stuffed bear into a royal scandal."

Frederick gasped. "Wait, was that yours? I thought he bought it to cope."

"Can we focus?" Clarice interjected, dragging the group back on track like the future diplomat she clearly was. "If you two want to keep this quiet, you need to dial it way down in public."

"Right," Jenny said, already listing things on her fingers. "No more gazing at each other like you're in a 2008 teen drama. No accidental forehead kisses. No holding hands. No whispering and then smiling like idiots."

"Wow," I said dryly. "So basically, don't act like we like each other."

"Exactly," Clarice said. "Act like you barely tolerate one another. Like coworkers. Stressed coworkers."

"I am stressed," I said.

"And I barely tolerate you," Maxwell added, shooting me a sideways grin that made my stomach flip anyway.

"Perfect!" Frederick beamed. "You're already halfway there."

"But wait," Jenny said thoughtfully. "What about when it's just us? Can you guys stop being boring and return to rom-com mode, or do we have to watch you fake-hate each other full-time?"

Maxwell crossed his arms. "Oh, don't worry. When the doors close, I plan on very much not hating her."

I blinked. "Please never say that in public again."

"I'll put it on a t-shirt," he teased.

Clarice raised a hand. "Focus. We've got three days until the royal tennis match. Royals. Media. Nobles. You need to act like strangers with vaguely tense pasts."

"So basically... us before the haunted butler, tarot cards, and making out by a river?" I said, raising an eyebrow.

"Exactly," Clarice replied. "Bring that awkward tension back."

Maxwell leaned over and whispered, "You want to fight again? I can start a fake argument. I'll say your tennis serve is embarrassing."

"I'll actually hit you with the racket," I whispered back.

"Perfect," Jenny said brightly. "You two are gonna nail this."

Amelia skipped over, popping a grape into her mouth. "Are we still pretending that you're not in love? Cool, cool. Should I be the adorable decoy, or just threaten the press with public meltdowns?"

"Do not speak to any reporters," Maxwell warned, but he was grinning.

Amelia saluted. "No promises, dear brother."

As the bell rang in the distance to call them back to the main building, the group began to scatter-still snickering, still buzzing with too many secrets.

Maxwell fell in step beside me as we walked back toward the mansion. He didn't touch me. Didn't smile too long. Didn't even look at me too much.

But then, just before we reached the doors, he leaned in-close enough that only I could hear-and said:

"I'm still thinking about that kiss by the river."

I inhaled sharply, the memory burning through my carefully crafted self-control.

"Stop it," I whispered.

"I'm just saying," he replied with a wicked glint in his eye. "That awkward tension's going to be very hard to fake.".