A Morning Of Secrets

Morning light crept into the chamber, spilling through the castle’s heavy curtains in soft golden streams. The silence was profound, the kind that exists only in the fragile hours between night and day. Akihiko stirred, his breath steady but his heart unwilling to wake—until the warmth at his side reminded him he was not alone.

Aiko.

Her presence was like fire and dawn woven together. Her reddish hair caught the light, glowing faintly as if the sun itself lingered to crown her in flame. He smiled without meaning to, a quiet curve of his lips shaped by tenderness, longing, and the memory of the night that still smoldered in his chest.

Beside him, Aiko shifted, the graceful stirrings of someone still wrapped in dreams. She moved closer unconsciously, her body fitting against his as though it had always belonged there. Her lashes fluttered, and when her eyes opened, they went to him first. The soft smile she gave him lit the room more than the dawn, yet the blush on her cheeks betrayed her heart—she remembered every breath, every whispered word of the night before.

A silence lingered, delicate and almost sacred. Both knew that soon they would need to step into the daylight world of duty and expectation, but for this stolen moment, they were simply themselves.

Akihiko leaned slightly closer, his voice a breath against the morning air.
“Good morning, princess…”

The words were soft, but the weight behind them was unshakable—an unspoken vow, a claim, a devotion.

Her lips curved into a tender smile.
“Good morning, prince…”

Her fingers brushed his, the slightest touch, yet enough to send warmth spiraling between them.

The light embraced them, framing them as if the world itself had conspired to hold them still in perfection. Akihiko bent his head, brushing his lips against hers with a kiss that was unhurried, gentle, steeped in sweetness. Aiko let out a faint laugh into the kiss, before tucking her face against his chest, where the steady thrum of his heartbeat betrayed how much he felt.

He pulled back only slightly, as though duty demanded it, but his restraint faltered. His hand slid around her waist, drawing her to him once more. This time the kiss deepened, a flame rekindled—hungry, urgent, restless with all that remained unsaid. They trembled with the pull of it, surrendering to desire until the weight of responsibility tugged them back.

Aiko clung to him for another heartbeat, wishing the world could remain closed beyond the walls of their chamber. Hidden in his arms, she longed to stay, unseen and untouched by all else.

Akihiko drew away at last, his forehead resting against hers, his voice a whisper only for her.
“We must… but soon, princess. I promise, soon…”

His eyes burned with yearning, yet within them glowed the steadiness of a promise. She met his gaze with a smile touched by trust and warmth, and without words, they agreed: though the world would demand them, every moment together would be claimed as theirs.

The dining hall was alive with morning.

The hush of their chamber was replaced by the hum of footsteps, the scent of fresh bread and fruit, the murmur of servants and the brightness of voices. Sunlight cascaded through the tall windows, spilling across the long table where silver gleamed and platters overflowed with pastries, ripe berries, and glistening pitchers of juice.

Aiko walked at Akihiko’s side, close enough for her hand to brush his as though by chance. He held himself with regal calm, yet the faintest smile at his lips betrayed the truth: every gesture was for her. His presence curled around her like a shield, warding off prying eyes while letting her know she was not alone.

Naoru, of course, had no intention of letting the morning remain serene. He leaned back in his chair, grin wide, his voice carrying across the table with every joke and remark. He treated each bite of bread as an opportunity for mischief, his laughter echoing through the hall like a spark that dared others to resist smiling.

“So, Akihiko,” he called out, his eyes glinting, “still managing to hold yourself together? Or did the princess already test your resolve this morning?”

The words fell like stones into still water.

Aiko flushed at once, lowering her gaze to her plate, while Akihiko’s composure wavered only in the faint twitch of his lips. His silence was its own answer, though the warning in his eyes promised Naoru’s mischief would not go unanswered forever.

Across the table, Mika sighed with the patience of someone accustomed to Naoru’s antics. “Must you?” she asked, though the ghost of a smile betrayed her fondness.

And then came Ren. His eyes, bright with innocence and mischief both, darted between Akihiko and Aiko. “Akihiko,” he blurted, his voice cutting through the hall, “when will I become an uncle? Naoru said it would be amazing!”

The dining hall stilled.

Akihiko nearly choked on his bread, color rising hot to his face as his thoughts scattered. For once, the prince known for composure was utterly lost.

Aiko pressed her lips together to stifle a laugh, her eyes sparkling with playful mischief. Beneath the table, her hand found his, squeezing gently—a silent reassurance. Don’t worry. Just breathe.

Naoru grinned like a wolf who had caught the scent of victory, leaning closer as he murmured just loud enough for Akihiko to hear: “Perhaps it’s time you started practicing…”

Akihiko stiffened, his jaw tight. “R-Ren… this isn’t… it’s not something to be discussed here,” he managed, though his voice trembled under the weight of restraint.

Ren tilted his head, puzzled but earnest. “Why not? It would be fun!”

Aiko laughed then, soft and warm, the sound breaking the tension. She shook her head, her blush rising as she turned to Ren. “Let’s just survive today first,” she said with gentle grace. “Everything else can wait.”

At the far end of the table, Akihiko’s parents—and Aiko’s as well—watched in silence. Their smiles were faint but full, touched with quiet satisfaction. They saw the truth in every glance and every hidden gesture: love woven with respect, devotion wrapped in playfulness. These were the moments of family joy that no crown, no duty, could ever outweigh.

Ren, still unconvinced, leaned forward eagerly. “But really—when will it be? I want to know!”

Akihiko and Aiko met each other’s gaze over the rim of their cups. Both of their faces glowed crimson, but in their eyes shimmered a secret pact, playful and unspoken. Beneath the table, Akihiko’s fingers curled around hers, steady and reassuring. His lips tugged into the faintest smile, the kind that promised patience, mischief, and love in equal measure.

Naoru caught the gesture and arched a brow, his grin widening with understanding.

The hall filled again with chatter and laughter, yet for Aiko and Akihiko, every brush of elbows, every shared look, was its own quiet language. They would walk the path of duty as expected, but in the spaces between—hidden in stolen touches and secret smiles—their hearts belonged only to one another.