The Second Encounter That Went Wrong

The midnight air felt damp and cold when three men in black uniforms stopped directly in front of Sera.

The streetlights reflected sharply off their polished shoes. Their posture was rigid, their expressions unreadable, and their presence carried an unmistakable air of authority—one that immediately told anyone who saw them that these men were not ordinary civilians.

Sera, who had been heading home after finishing her shift at the bar, instinctively halted in her tracks.

“Miss Sera Angela Smith?”

One of them spoke at last. His voice was flat and emotionless, like a machine programmed to deliver orders.

“His Royal Highness, the Second Prince, requests your presence. You are to come with us. Now.”

Sera stared at them, then pointed at herself, as if making sure she had heard correctly.

“…Now?”

“Yes. Now.”

She froze.

Good heavens…

Why does that prince keep appearing in my life?

Sera glanced at the time on her phone. It was nearly midnight.

“At this hour?” she asked, her voice sharp with disbelief. “In the middle of the night?”

“At this hour,” the guard replied calmly, without even the slightest change in expression.

“Why not tomorrow afternoon?” Sera exhaled in irritation. “I need to go home and rest. I have classes in the morning.”

It wasn’t an excuse. It was the truth.

“There is no room for negotiation, Miss. A royal order must be obeyed.”

Sera narrowed her eyes.

“Don’t I have basic human rights? The right to refuse?”

“All royal orders are absolute, Miss.”

“Tch.”

Sera clicked her tongue softly. “What a ridiculous rule.”

“We are merely carrying out orders,” another guard said evenly. “We ask for your cooperation, even if you do not like it.”

His face was completely blank—like a stone statue carved to follow commands, not emotions.

Sera opened her mouth, ready to argue—

TING! TING! TING!

Her phone vibrated violently in her hand.

Hospital number.

Her heart dropped straight into her stomach.

“Be quiet!” she hissed instinctively.

And strangely—

The three guards fell completely silent.

Not a sound.

They stood perfectly still. Straight-backed. Obedient.

Like robots whose voice functions had been switched off.

Sera didn’t have time to question the absurdity of it. She immediately answered the call.

“H-hello?”

“Is this a family member of Mrs. Angela Smith?”

The voice on the other end was professional, serious.

“Yes—yes, I’m her daughter.”

“Your mother is in critical condition. Her blood pressure has dropped drastically, and she is experiencing severe breathing difficulties. Please come to the hospital immediately to authorize emergency medical procedures.”

The world tilted.

“C-critical?” Sera’s voice cracked. “How did it—”

“Please come as soon as possible.”

Sera swallowed hard, her breathing trembling.

“I’ll be there right now,” she said quickly. “Please… please take care of my mother. Do whatever you need to do. Just—please save her.”

The call ended.

Sera’s hand shook violently as she lowered her phone.

She looked at the three guards again. Her face was pale, her eyes filled with desperation.

“Please,” she said softly. “I need to go to the hospital first. My mother is critical.”

The lead guard shook his head firmly.

“We apologize, Miss Seraphina Angela Smith. His Royal Highness’s orders take priority.”

The words cut like a blade.

“This… this is my mother’s life,” Sera whispered. “Please.”

“It is not possible.”

Sera fell silent.

Seconds passed.

Then she nodded slowly.

“…Alright.”

Her voice suddenly became calm.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry—?”

DUGH!

The metal trash bin flew straight at the second guard.

Their reflexes stalled for a fraction of a second.

That was all she needed.

Sera ran.

Her body shot forward like an arrow, sprinting through narrow alleys, leaping over shallow ditches, turning sharply without hesitation.

The darkness of the night worked in her favor.

Behind her, chaos erupted.

One guard nearly slipped on a discarded banana peel.

Another got tangled in a clothesline.

And fifteen minutes and forty-eight seconds later—

“Miss Sera has escaped, Your Highness…”

A trembling voice echoed through the palace.

“We… we’ve lost the target.”

---

Isac was already in a foul mood even before that report arrived.

The necklace.

His late mother’s necklace—an irreplaceable royal heirloom—was missing.

The moment he heard the word escaped, he stood up abruptly.

“What do you mean… ESCAPED?!”

His voice reverberated through the room.

“We lost her trail, Your Highness,” one guard replied, his face pale. “She was too fast.”

Isac nearly hurled the glass in his hand across the room.

“Fast?”

A cold laugh escaped his lips.

“She’s just a bar server.”

“Our records indicate… she was a national-level high school sprint athlete, Your Highness.”

Isac closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.

“…Of course she was.”

He grabbed his coat and walked out.

Inside his mind, anger piled upon anger:

— His jacket had been taken without permission.
— His mother’s necklace was missing.
— And a mere bar server had dared to run away from him.

His pride felt shredded.

---

The door opened.

The bar fell silent instantly.

Royal guards had already cleared the premises.

The Second Prince stepped inside, his expression as sharp as a blade.

“I’m looking for a server named Sera Angela Smith.”

The bartender swallowed hard.

“S—Sera has already gone home, Your Highness…”

“Her address.”

“We’re not authorized to—”

Isac looked at him.

Just once.

“Mapple Street, number twenty-seven! Room two!”

“Thank you.”

The moment Isac left, the bar staff collapsed onto the floor.

“That was TERRIFYING!”

Only the next day did they realize—

A prince losing his temper meant business disaster.

And Sera… would most likely be fired.

---

TOK. TOK. TOK. TOK.

The door was pounded so hard it nearly came off its hinges.

Mika, who had been washing dishes, cracked the door open.

She froze.

Prince Isac stood there.

“Miss?”

Mika slammed the door shut.

BAM!

“That was extremely disrespectful to His Royal Highness!”

Mika opened it again, her face drained of color.

“I-is there anything I can help you with?”

“Where is Sera?”

“S-she’s not here, Your Highness.”

“I see.”

Isac walked inside without permission.

“I’ll wait.”

Mika could only pray.

---

Her mother survived.

That was all that mattered.

With swollen eyes and an exhausted body, Sera finally returned home.

The moment she opened the door—

She froze.

On the worn-out blue sofa sat a man who absolutely did not belong there.

Prince Isac.

“Sera,” he said in a low voice. “You finally came back.”

“I just came back from hell…” Sera muttered. “…and somehow, hell moved into my boarding house.”

“We need to talk. Now.”

Sera looked at him sharply.

“Your Highness,” she said tiredly, her voice filled with restrained anger, “is it really impossible for your life to continue without completely wrecking mine?”