Secret Marriage Among Royals

Valerie’s POV

Riiing. Riiing. Riiing.

The sharp chime of my phone sliced through the silence of dawn, jarring me awake like a bucket of cold water. Groaning, I reached blindly across the bed, my fingers fumbling through a sea of tangled sheets and scattered throw pillows. My eyes were still glued shut, heavy from yesterday’s whirlwind workload. I had asked for this day off — begged, actually — with the desperate hope of catching up on sleep. But clearly, the universe had other plans.

And whoever had the audacity to call at this hour? I hope their pillowcase is always warm on both sides.

I finally grabbed the phone and pressed it to my ear without checking the screen.

“Thank goodness, you finally answered!” came my mom’s overly chipper voice, like sunshine and caffeine in vocal form. “Where are you? Your grandma’s already waiting. Hurry up, sweetheart!”

My eyes shot open, now fully awake and mildly panicked. I yanked the phone away to check the time.

5:47 A.M.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Seriously?” I croaked, my voice gravelly. “Mom, it’s barely even morning. I just fell asleep three hours ago. Can’t I sleep in just this once?”

“Nope! Up you go. You’ve got exactly 30 minutes. Your grandma’s been up since four, and she’s expecting you. I’m sending the address now.”

“Mom—”

“I’ll see you soon, honey. Wear something nice! Love you, bye!”

Click.

Great. Thanks, Mom. Love the surprise ambush.

With a heavy sigh, I flopped back against my pillows, staring blankly at the ceiling. What in the royal universe could possibly be happening this early? It's my birthday, not an emergency.

Still groggy, I reached for the text message she promised and tapped the screen.

Location: Rosemont Valor Resort.

Oh.

A five-star luxury haven nestled by the seaside cliffs — and one of the many properties owned by the Vale family. Which, yes, surprise, happens to be my family. Though most people wouldn’t know that. My parents had always kept me tucked far away from the public eye — partly for protection, partly for tradition, and a little bit because I never wanted to be part of the whole spotlight show.

Being hidden had its perks, though. I got to live like a normal person — study in peace, build my career on merit, and enjoy small freedoms like getting coffee at midnight or walking barefoot on the grass.

Still, Rosemont? At 6 in the morning?

I dragged myself out of bed with all the grace of a sleep-deprived zombie and shuffled to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face to chase away the grogginess. After throwing on a casual cream knit dress with a belted waist and a pair of flats, I tied my long hair into a loose ponytail, letting a few strands fall around my face. Simple. Fresh. Good enough.

My stomach let out a growl of betrayal.

“Fine,” I muttered. “We eat first.”

I made a quick detour to Burger’s 24/7, a cozy little diner tucked on the corner of the main road. It was practically deserted — no surprise, given how ungodly early it was — and smelled like toasted buns and hot coffee. Perfect.

“Hi, one cheeseburger with egg, and an iced macchiato, please,” I told the sleepy cashier. She yawned in response and rang it up.

While waiting, I wandered to the seat by the window, letting the golden dawn light paint soft shadows across the white tile floor. I loved mornings like this — before the world wakes up, before anyone expects anything of you.

Just as I slid into the booth, something in my peripheral vision caught my attention.

Someone was sitting at the opposite window, a few tables down. A man. Tall, straight-backed, dressed in an effortlessly sleek black suit that screamed expensive even from behind. His hair was slightly tousled, yet immaculate — the kind of messiness that’s clearly intentional.

Though I couldn’t see his face, something about him felt... familiar. There was an energy to him — calm, controlled, almost intimidating. A storm wrapped in silk.

And even though I knew better, I couldn’t help but sneak another glance.

Broad shoulders. Impeccable posture. The subtle glint of a silver watch catching the sunlight. Rich-boy elegance written all over him.

“Wow,” I whispered under my breath. “Even his back looks expensive.”

I looked away quickly, shaking my head. Probably some businessman on a tight schedule. Not my problem.

My name was called, and I stood up to grab my order — my coffee and burger stacked neatly on a tray. As I turned back to my table, I fumbled to avoid colliding with a mop bucket left in the narrow aisle, and that’s when it happened.

My foot caught the edge.

I stumbled forward, tray tilting, the iced macchiato flying toward an imminent coffee disaster—

Strong arms caught me mid-fall.

In one fluid motion, I was pulled into a chest — solid, warm, familiar — while the tray clattered onto the nearby table, drink miraculously still upright.

“I’ve got you,” came a low, calm voice.

My heart skidded in my chest.

I looked up — and froze.

Leon Albourne.

The nation’s most admired heir. The man every tabloid nicknamed The Perfect Prince. The newly appointed Director of AV Tech. My new boss starting today. And, more importantly… my soon-to-be husband in a marriage no one but our families knew about.

He looked down at me with unreadable eyes, dark and sharp like midnight storms. His grip on my arms was firm, protective, but his face remained composed — cool, as if he hadn’t just caught me from a humiliating public collapse.

My brain was short-circuiting. What. The. Actual. Hell.

“Are you alright, Miss?” he asked smoothly, the corners of his lips barely curving in what might have been a smirk — if he ever let himself show that much emotion.

“I—uh… yes. Thank you,” I stammered, straightening.

He stepped back gracefully, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve. “Be careful. This place is full of unexpected hazards.”

His words sounded like more than just a warning.

Then, without another glance, he turned and walked out of the diner, leaving the faint scent of bergamot and quiet command behind him.

I stood there, stunned, my coffee somehow still intact, my heart racing far faster than it should’ve been.

Well, happy 23rd birthday to me.