The Princess He Lost Across Time

Whenever things got passionate, Tristan Boyle would bite Margot Irving's earlobe and whisper huskily, "My princess, you drive me crazy."

Over the past three years, Margot had gone from a time traveler who knew nothing about the modern world to someone completely dependent on him.

Then one day, she happened to catch an astronomical forecast on TV. A rare alignment of seven stars would occur in a month—the same alignment the court astronomers had recorded the night she fell into the pond. It was her only chance to return to her own time.

Her heart was in turmoil. She wanted to go home, back to the empire where she belonged, but she couldn't bear to leave Tristan. He had treated her so well. Maybe she could persuade him to return with her.

Filled with a mix of quiet hope and a sense of unease, she went to the private club he often frequented.

Just as she was about to knock on the door of his VIP room, she overheard a conversation that made her blood freeze.

"Tristan, seriously, we're all curious," one of his friends said. "Haven't you always had a thing for Nina? So why have you been messing around with Margot, who came out of nowhere, for three whole years?"

Margot knew exactly who they meant. Nina Duffy was a close friend of Tristan's mother, ten years older than him. Whenever he mentioned Nina, there was a peculiar look in his eyes.

"Is Tristan... in love with Nina?" The thought struck her like a physical blow, leaving her mind blank.

Before she could make sense of it, another man chimed in with a mocking laugh. "You don't get it, do you? Remember Tristan's diagnosis? The doctor said he'd need to have sex ten thousand times to cure his addiction.

"Nina is like a perfect, untouchable angel in his eyes. There's no way he'd put her through that. Then he happened to find Margot, who claims to be an ancient princess.

"She's innocent and easy to control. What better cure could he ask for? Once he hits ten thousand times and the addiction is gone, he's free to pursue Nina."

"Holy shit! So that's what's going on!" the first man exclaimed. "But come on, Tristan, you've been sleeping with Margot for almost three years. It has to be a few thousand times by now. You really haven't developed any feelings for her?"

Silence fell over the room, broken only by the sharp click of a lighter. Through the crack in the door, Margot could see Tristan lounging on the leather sofa, his handsome features blurred by cigarette smoke.

At last, he spoke, his voice lazy and rough. Every word cut into her like a knife.

"Feelings? Would you fall for a plaything you took in?" Tristan said.

"A plaything..." Margot's breath caught as her knees nearly gave way.

"But come on, she's crazy about you. She looks at you like you hung the moon," his friend said teasingly. "If she finds out the truth and runs away, you'll lose your cure."

"Runs away?" Tristan let out a contemptuous laugh. "Didn't she say she came from ancient times? Where could she go without me? I'm the only person she knows here. She'd struggle to get by on her own. She has no choice but to stay by my side."

Laughter erupted around the room. Not a single person seemed to believe Margot's story about traveling through time. They all saw her as a scheming gold digger who had made up a pathetic lie to get close to a rich man.

She felt as if an invisible hand had seized her heart and crushed it. The pain was so intense that she nearly doubled over.

Margot had finally learned the truth. Tristan had a sex addiction. He couldn't bear to put Nina, the perfect woman he adored, through that, so he had picked up Margot, a naive girl with a mysterious past, to use as an outlet.

His desire for her had never had anything to do with love. He was just trying to reach that ridiculous number required for his treatment.

The feelings she'd cherished and the courage it had taken to give him her heart were nothing but a joke to them.

Her heart ached so much she could barely breathe. The first man she'd ever loved with all her heart had trampled her feelings into the mud.

Tears spilled over. She bit down hard on her lip to keep from making a sound. When she saw that someone was about to leave the room, she spun around and ran as fast as she could.

The night wind whipped across her face as she fled, and cold tears ran freely down her cheeks. Memories of the past three years came flooding back to her mind.

She remembered how patiently Tristan had taught her to write her name, how he'd gone all over the city just to buy her the candied fruit she'd mentioned wanting, and how he'd whispered "my princess" in her ear on those intimate nights.

Every memory that had once made her heart flutter now felt like a knife twisting in her chest.

It had all been a lie!

She'd given her heart away for the first time, only to be left shattered and humiliated.

She didn't know how long she had run before her strength finally gave out. Only then did she stumble back to the mansion where she had spent three years believing in an illusion of happiness.

The house felt empty and cold, devoid of any warmth.

She stepped into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and let the warm water wash over her, as if it could rinse away every trace of Tristan.

Her tears mingled with the water. She wiped them away fiercely, along with the last of her feelings for him.

She wouldn't tell him about the seven-star alignment. When the time came, she would leave quietly and return to where she belonged.

After that, they would be worlds apart, never to meet again.