Episode 8

King Edward sat in the royal study, a warm cup of tea in his hands. Sunlight spilled through the tall arched windows, glinting off shelves lined with old books and golden picture frames. Queen Magarette entered quietly, her emerald gown swishing across the marble floor. She was smiling so brightly Edward had to look twice.

“Well, well,” Edward said, setting his cup down. “What has you glowing like a sunrise?”

Magarette clasped her hands dramatically. “Edward, can you see it? Our son—our rude, impossible, fire-breathing Carl—has turned into a lovesick prince overnight!”

Edward raised an eyebrow. “Lovesick? Carl?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed, sitting beside him. “You should have seen them today. He didn’t even have time to fire the maids. He was happy, Edward. Happy. I could see it in his eyes—he loves Ariel. They’re just too stubborn to admit it.”

Edward chuckled. “Oh? That’s quite the improvement.”

Magarette leaned closer, her voice lowering conspiratorially. “And… I think they might have accidentally kissed yesterday.”

Edward’s eyes widened. Then he threw back his head and laughed. “Really? That’s excellent news!”

The two of them embraced, giggling like conspirators. “This marriage will work out after all,” Edward said, planting a kiss on her forehead.

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Ariel’s Grand Entrance

Upstairs, Ariel stood in front of a gilded mirror. She smoothed the hem of her short black skirt, adjusted her fitted jacket, and slipped on sleek high heels. A pair of dark sunglasses perched on her nose completed the look. Her makeup was flawless, her lips painted a daring crimson.

She took a breath, tilted her chin up, and whispered to her reflection, “Now the fun begins.”

Clutching her designer handbag, she descended the staircase with calculated grace. Magarette and Edward were still in the hallway, whispering excitedly like teenagers.

Magarette’s eyes sparkled when she saw Ariel. “Darling, where are you headed, looking like you could break hearts across the kingdom?”

“I’m going to Carl’s office,” Ariel said casually, adjusting her sunglasses.

Edward blinked. “Do you… know where his office is?”

“The driver knows,” Ariel replied, brushing imaginary dust from her skirt.

Magarette teased in a singsong voice, “Take your time, darling.”

Ariel smirked. “Don’t worry about me, Mother. Worry about Carl.”

Edward chuckled. “Deal with him however you want—he’s yours. We’ll thank you later.”

The couple shared a conspiratorial grin as Ariel strutted out, her heels clicking sharply on the polished floor.

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Chaos at Zubrel Industries

Zubrel Industries towered over Eastvale’s bustling financial district, all gleaming glass and steel. Ariel stepped out of the limousine, her confidence radiating like sunlight. Heads turned as she entered the lobby—employees were not accustomed to seeing a royal princess in killer heels strolling through their office building.

As she approached the corridor leading to Carl’s office, disaster struck.

A young employee, his arms piled high with files, rounded the corner too quickly and collided with her. Papers exploded into the air like confetti.

Ariel gasped as her heel slipped on the polished floor. She flailed backward, about to crash spectacularly.

But before her body hit the ground, strong arms caught her.

Carl.

He had been walking by at that exact moment and swept her into his arms effortlessly. For a heartbeat, time froze. Ariel found herself staring into his deep brown eyes—closer than she had ever been to him willingly. Her breath caught in her throat. His chest was warm against hers, his cologne intoxicating.

Then reality snapped back. She wriggled free and stumbled upright, cheeks flushed. “You—you’re trying to take advantage of me!”

Carl blinked, then laughed—a deep, amused laugh that made a few nearby employees choke on their coffee. “Take advantage of you? What in your royal highness’s body would I possibly want to take advantage of? Instead of thanking me for saving you from a broken tailbone, you accuse me? You’re an ingrate.”

Ariel’s jaw dropped. “Thank you? Say thank you to a fool like you? Never!”

Their voices grew louder, bouncing off the polished marble walls.

“You’re unbelievable!” Carl shot back.

“You’re arrogant!” she snapped.

The commotion had drawn curious glances from passing employees, but the bickering duo didn’t notice—until the poor man who had bumped Ariel finally spoke. “Um… Your Highnesses… I’m terribly sorry.”

Without thinking, Carl and Ariel turned on him in perfect sync. “You’re fired!” they shouted together, pointing accusingly.

The man’s face drained of color. He dropped to his knees among the scattered papers. “Please, ma’am, sir—please forgive me! I didn’t know she was the princess. I would never have bumped into her intentionally.”

Carl’s personal assistant (PA) leaned on the doorframe, jaw slack. He had never seen his terrifying boss argue like a schoolboy in public. He muttered under his breath, “Who is this woman? Or am I dreaming?”

Still on his knees, the unlucky employee trembled. Ariel’s anger softened first. She turned to Carl. “Let him go. It was my fault. I was looking around and didn’t see him coming.”

Carl crossed his arms, smirking. “Didn’t I just say that?”

“But you fired him!” Ariel protested.

Carl blinked innocently. “Me? Fire him? Never said such a thing.”

The kneeling man gawked. “But… you both…”

Carl turned on his heel and strode away quickly, muttering something under his breath. Even the PA, still trying to process the scene, looked after him with wide eyes.

The employee gathered his scattered files, still bewildered. “Did I… just get fired or promoted?” he whispered to himself.

The nearby staff exchanged knowing looks. Whispered gossip began immediately:

“Did you see the way he caught her?”

“I’ve never seen the boss smile like that.”

“Smile? He was practically glowing!”

Ariel straightened her skirt, ignoring the whispers, though her cheeks burned crimson. She glanced in the direction Carl had disappeared and muttered under her breath, “Scoundrel.”