Felicity's POV.
We stayed in that hug like the world might collapse if we let go. But emotions, like storms, eventually quiet down.
I cleared my throat gently, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. "So… where's your dad?"
Christopher shifted, rubbing the back of his neck. "He went back to England. Said he had urgent matters to handle—royal business. Classic King Grayson—drop a bomb and vanish into the mist."
I blinked. "That's it? Wow. Your dad really knows how to make an exit. King Drama himself."
He laughed. "Yeah, pretty much. That's King Grayson for you."
I tilted my head. "So… you're a prince now? Like, an actual royal? Crown-wearing, palace-living, bow-before-you-speak prince?"
His expression shifted. "Yeah. Born into it. Prince Christopher Blake, at your service, ma'am. His Royal Highness of England." He gave a mock bow and extended his hand. "Pleasure to meet you."
I stared like he'd grown a second head. "You've been royalty this whole time and just… didn't mention it? I mean—what? I have so many questions. But start with this: why did you hide it?"
He gave me that crooked, irresistible smile. "Because I didn't want to be treated differently. I wanted to be normal around you. With you. I'm sorry. There's so much going on with my father, politics... It's a long story. But not now, please. Just… respect that I needed space."
I folded my arms. "Fair enough." Then smirked. "But let's not pretend you didn't enjoy slumming it with us—eating pancakes in the dorms, dodging cafeteria chicken like it was radioactive… while your royal butlers were probably polishing gold forks."
He snorted. "Hey. I love pancakes. And trust me, our palace chefs suck at ramen. It's a tragedy."
I burst out laughing, loud and real. I slapped his arm. "You're insane."
"Charming," he corrected, wiggling his brows.
I rolled my eyes, still grinning. "Okay, Prince of Instant Pancakes. So what now?"
"Well," he said, straightening, "we've got our matriculation ceremony next week… and after that, the Winter Ball."
I raised an eyebrow. "Oh right! I almost forgot. You're attending both?"
He grinned. "If I survive my father's lectures and Mia's attitude, absolutely."
I gave him a mock squint. "Speaking of Mia... do you have a date for the ball? Or is Miss Sparkle-Crown already picking out matching tiaras?"
He leaned in, eyes soft but intense. "I was actually hoping… it'd be you."
"Me?" I blinked.
"Yeah. You."
I pretended to think hard. "Hmm... I don't know. I'll consider it."
He smiled knowingly. "That's not a no."
I turned away, blushing like a schoolgirl. "You're lucky you're cute," I muttered, hoping he didn't hear me.
"What was that?" he asked, leaning closer. "Did you say something?"
"Nope," I replied way too quickly.
"Hmm. Okay. Keep your secrets, Paddington," he teased.
We both laughed.
And somewhere between the stars and the stolen glances, I forgot all about royal secrets. I just knew this boy—this prince—was still the same one who held my hand when I was sick, who made me laugh when I wanted to cry.
The one I might be falling for… slowly but surely.
**********
Christopher's POV
The next morning, we headed back to the hospital for one last visit before flying to England.
Felicity wore a royal blue blazer and jeans, looking like a student and a queen in one perfect package. I kept it casual. Mia looked like she was auditioning for a soap opera—eyeliner sharp enough to slice feelings.
Wyatt was sitting up now, more color in his cheeks. He looked around at all of us and smiled weakly.
"Well," he rasped, "doctors say I might be discharged sooner than expected. Apparently, someone gave me a reason to fight."
"That's amazing," Felicity said, grabbing his hand.
Joy wiped her eyes. "You're a miracle, Wyatt Paddington."
He smiled softly. "No. I just have a daughter who reminded me what living feels like."
"Aww, Dad…" Felicity whispered.
Then Mia spoke. "So… we came all the way to Scotland for nothing?"
I casually stepped on her foot.
"Ow!" she screeched.
"Oops," I said, not sorry.
Wyatt chuckled. "Christopher. Step away."
Mia scowled. "You people are cruel."
"No," Felicity said sweetly. "We're just allergic to nonsense."
Mia shot Felicity a death glare, and for a second, I swear the air crackled with tension. But Felicity ignored her entirely.
Joy turned to us, her voice soft. "I'll stay behind with Wyatt, take care of him while he recovers. You two go back to school and make me proud."
She hugged Felicity tight, then gave me a warm smile. "Take care of my girl."
"I will," I promised.
We said our goodbyes, took a few last photos, then headed for the airport.
On the flight, Felicity sat beside me. Tired, but glowing. And when she leaned her head on my shoulder, I didn't say a word.
Just warmth. I just smiled.
Because in my mind, one thought echoed softly and surely: One week. That's all I had to win her heart completely. And deep down in my soul, I already knew—I didn't want just her heart for a week. I wanted forever.