Between Us: A Collection of Moments
"The Royal Romance" — 4
Ji-Cheol’s mind was swimming in a sea of confusion and frustration. The words being spoken around him—carefully crafted schemes and public manipulation—were becoming a blur, fading into a distant hum as his thoughts tangled in a web of disbelief.
His heart raced in his chest, but it wasn’t from the excitement of a new project or the thrill of a career move—it was the dread, the fear of losing control over his own life.
Gong Ji-Cheol
(How did it come to this?)
He thought, staring blankly at the opulent decor around him. The paintings on the walls, the royal insignia engraved into the furniture, the echoing silence after every calculated sentence from the PR head—they all seemed to blend together, trapping him in an overwhelming loop of anxiety.
His breathing grew shallow as he tried to refocus, but everything around him felt heavy and stifling.
The faint tapping of the PR head’s fingers on her papers was all Ji-Cheol could hear now, the words muffled, as if he were underwater. His fingers gripped the armrests of his chair tighter, his nails digging into the wood as he tried to pull himself back to the present.
But all he could think about was the way his life was about to be unraveled in front of the entire world—and for what? A lie. A lie to cover up something far more sinister.
Just as his mind threatened to spiral completely out of control, the door to the hall swung open with a force that startled everyone in the room. Ji-Cheol’s head snapped up, his gaze immediately drawn to the imposing figure standing in the doorway.
A man, dressed in a sharp black tuxedo, entered the room with a slow, deliberate stride. His presence alone was enough to command attention, and his face was set in a stern, emotionless expression. There was something dangerous about him, something that sent a chill down Ji-Cheol’s spine. He was in his late forties, seasoned in his demeanor and appearance, exuding an air of authority that made even the most powerful figures in the room tense.
His eyes quickly flickered to the holster strapped across the man’s chest, where a gleaming firearm hung in plain sight, just under his jacket.
The room, which had been filled with tense conversation just moments ago, fell into a deathly silence. The only sound was the man’s polished shoes clicking against the floor as he approached the table, his eyes locking onto the Crown Prince.
The Crown Prince’s expression darkened the moment he saw the man, his scowl deepening with every step the intruder took. It was clear that the Prince was not pleased by the sudden interruption, and even less so by the man’s presence.
Ji-Cheol noticed the flicker of irritation in the Prince’s eyes, the way his jaw clenched as he stared down the newcomer.
The man stopped just short of the table and gave a deep, formal bow, his posture rigid and his movements precise.
Jang Tae-Min
Your Highness.
He greeted, his voice calm and respectful, though there was a coldness beneath the surface that made Ji-Cheol uneasy.
The Crown Prince didn’t return the greeting. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his scowl never leaving his face as he eyed the man with disdain.
Hyun-Su
What are you doing here?
Hyun-Su asked, his voice low and laced with irritation.
Hyun-Su
I was not made aware of your presence at this meeting. Care to explain this oversight?
Hyun-Su snapped, clearly not expecting this interruption. The tension between the two was palpable, thick in the air like a storm about to break.
The tension in the room thickened, and Ji-Cheol felt the weight of it pressing down on him. He glanced around the room, noticing how everyone had stiffened in their seats, their eyes nervously darting between the Prince and the man in the tuxedo.
The man, however, seemed unfazed by the Prince’s cold reception.
The man straightened after his bow, his voice steady and calm.
Jang Tae-Min
Your Highness,
He said, his tone formal but with an underlying firmness.
Jang Tae-Min
I’ve come on behalf of her royal highness, Princess Y/N. She requests an audience with Mr. Gong Ji-Cheol.
Ji-Cheol’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of your name. The beloved Princess of Korea, respected and adored by the public, and yet… you had called for him.
His eyes widened slightly as the reality of the situation began to sink in. The Crown Prince’s frown deepened, his irritation now tinged with something else—perhaps frustration at being circumvented, perhaps the realization that his plan could no longer proceed without your involvement.
The man, who Ji-Cheol now recognized as your equerry—your personal aide—stood tall, awaiting the Crown Prince’s response. It was clear that he had been sent with a purpose, and despite the tension in the room, there was no doubt that your summons would not be ignored.
The Crown Prince’s gaze flickered from the equerry to Ji-Cheol, a mixture of annoyance and calculation in his eyes. He took a deep breath, clearly displeased with the sudden shift in the situation.
Hyun-Su
And what exactly does the Princess want with him?
The Prince asked, his voice low and edged with suspicion.
The equerry’s expression didn’t change, his voice remaining neutral as he replied,
Jang Tae-Min
Her royal highness requested that the meeting take place in private. I am here to escort him.
Ji-Cheol felt a strange mixture of apprehension and intrigue. Why had you called for him, and why in private?
He glanced at the Crown Prince, who seemed to be weighing his options, clearly not pleased with the idea of losing control over the situation.
The room was suffocating, the tension unbearable. Ji-Cheol’s thoughts raced.
Was this another part of the scheme? Or was there something more behind your request?
He could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on him, waiting for the Crown Prince’s response.
After what felt like an eternity, the Crown Prince gave a curt nod, though his displeasure was obvious.
He said, his tone clipped.
Hyun-Su
But I expect to be informed of the nature of this meeting afterward.
The equerry bowed again, acknowledging the Prince’s words without comment. Then, he turned to Ji-Cheol, his expression softening slightly, though the air of formality never left him.
He said, gesturing toward the door.
Jang Tae-Min
If you would follow me, her royal highness is waiting.
Ji-Cheol stood from his chair, his legs feeling slightly unsteady as he rose. He could feel the weight of the room’s gaze on his back as he walked toward the door, following the equerry.
His mind raced with questions, but none of them had answers—not yet. The door closed behind them with a soft thud, sealing him away from the suffocating pressure of the meeting room and into the unknown that awaited him with you.
As he walked through the grand hallways of the royal residence, led by the equerry, Ji-Cheol couldn’t help but wonder what you wanted. He had no idea what to expect. But one thing was clear—this meeting would change everything.
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