Kiss the Stranger

“Yohan, Yohan.”
A voice called, and I slowly came to. I couldn’t lift my heavy eyelids fully; half-open, I made out the steward’s blurred face in my field of vision.

“Wake up. It’s time to get ready.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again, struggling to clear my mind. He slipped his arm under my shoulder and hauled me up to a sitting position, muttering:
“I’d think someone would just let you lie if you said you were conscious. And look at you in this state—how are you supposed to eat…?”

He kept talking, but I could hardly hear him. I stumbled as he led me, changed clothes, and he redressed my wounds.
“Ugh…”
Though dazed, the dull pain was unmistakable. As I winced and moaned, the steward paused and asked,

“You okay, Yohan? Maybe I really should say you can’t go.”
I forced order into my foggy thoughts and managed to speak.
“But… it’s an order. If I don’t go… you’ll be blamed… Steward will be blamed….”
“That’s a problem, Yohan.”

He corrected my slurred words, then exhaled.
“It’s a direct command, so ignoring it is tricky. It’ll be tough, but let’s do our best.”
He finished disinfecting swiftly, then said, “Wait here,” fetched a cart, and returned with a niqāb.

“Here—wear this.”
“Um…”
I looked up, and he continued with a wry expression.

“Your face is a wreck. Better cover it. If you wear this, people will assume you’re in mourning or something, rather than staring and wondering what happened to you.”
Then he sneered:
“If you’re not senile, people will remember why you’re wearing it.”

I wasn’t sure how to reply, so I gave an awkward smile. I still couldn’t believe it—I had truly met Kamar? The throbbing pain in my body told me it was reality, not a dream. Yet my mind was hazy and I couldn’t trust myself. The only way to confirm was the steward before me.
“Steward, um… the one I met—is he really the crown prince?”
“He is. Asgire—he’s the prime suspect if we doubt he’s Kamar.”

His firm answer took the words from my lips, and I fell silent.
By the time we reached the banquet hall for dinner, it was filled with people. I arrived in the wheelchair the steward pushed. Though I’d said I could walk, he ignored me.
“If I say you’re in pain, they’ll let us leave early.”

His words were true, so I gave up resisting and sat in the chair. As time passed and my body adjusted, my mind cleared somewhat by the time we entered the hall.
“Oh, doctor, right this way. How goes the research?”
A man I recognized greeted us first. The steward returned the greeting, “So-so,” then watched the man walk away. He leaned close and whispered:

“If you don’t say it that way, you might die.”
“Really?” I gasped, and he replied casually,
“No.”
He’d been joking to ease my tension. I laughed weakly, and he fixed me with a serious look.

“I meant be cautious. I wasn’t kidding.”
My face tensed again, and he added:
“If possible, don’t speak. If unavoidable, speak minimally. I’ll handle responses. You don’t know protocol yet, so it’s best to keep quiet. Being foreign, I have excuses; you don’t.”

“Yes, I’ll be careful.”
“Good.”
He straightened. Scanning for a place to set the wheelchair, he spotted one and moved toward it.

“Yohan, are you okay? Can you sit on the floor?”
I nodded and prepared to stand, but he suddenly stopped me.
“Wait here. Excuse me!”

He called over a passing attendant.
“This guest’s unwell. Please bring many cushions or something to support his back.”
“Understood.”

After the attendant hurried off, we waited.
“There’s still time.”
As he reassured me, a faint scent wafted to my nose. Instantly my body froze. The perfume grew stronger, revealing its source: an overwhelmingly sweet aroma filled the air. My head swam and vision blurred.

It’s not Kamar.
I felt it instinctively. This scent wasn’t his.
Then whose…?

“Lord Zakriya.”
The steward’s voice reached my ears. From where the scent came, another voice answered.
“Steward.”

That deep, chilling voice stiffened me. I couldn’t move as the voices continued above me.
“You joined us too. How have you been?”
“I’m well, Lord Zakriya. And you?”

“As always. How is the research going? His Highness the Crown Prince’s health is precious to all of us.”
“Of course—we pay it special attention. Your help is invaluable, too. You’re one of only three rare alphas in the royal family.”
The steward’s ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) words drew a short, sharp laugh from Zakriya, silencing the hall momentarily.

“Blessed by God, indeed.”
“I’m honored.”
The steward’s voice softened, and I felt a menacing gaze. My heart pounded as Zakriya asked:

“And who is this? Women aren’t permitted at these feasts.”
Silence enveloped us instantly, the sweet scent pressing down like a weight. I gripped the steward’s hand, and he replied:
“My assistant. He was injured, hence this, but he’s male.”

“Hmmm.”
Zakriya seemed to ponder, then laughed heartily.
“Understandable. After all, we each have only one life.”

He spoke that terrifying line as if it were a joke, then glanced behind him before looking back at the steward.
“Well, I must go. It was a pleasure.”
“Yes, Lord Zakriya. Until next time.”

As he departed, the scent receded. The steward exhaled and said,
“That was a difficult encounter so soon.”
“Who was he?”

I asked cautiously; the steward countered:
“You smelled like Kamar, right?”
I answered quietly,

“Different.”
“Is that so?”
He tilted his head, then casually continued.

“He’s Asgire’s uncle—brother to the ailing king. Second in line to the throne….”
He paused thoughtfully, then added:
“He will soon be Asgire’s father-in-law as well.”

It took me a moment to process. The attendant returned to arrange seating, and people began filling their places. The feast was about to start.
“Thank you.”
The steward thanked the attendant, who set me on the floor and then took his seat. Alone, I finally found my voice.

“Father-in-law… you mean that…?”
The steward met my eyes and answered.
“He’s the betrothed’s father. The crown prince has been engaged since childhood—to a very elegant and beautiful lady.”

He spoke the difficult truth swiftly, then fell silent. I thought I was awake, but my mind went hazy again. Through it, I sensed that faint sweet scent—Kamar’s. Then the attendant announced:
“His Highness the Crown Prince approaches.”
The chatter ceased abruptly, and the sweet perfume returned, surrounding us.

Kamar.
My mouth went dry as I turned and saw him appear. I stood frozen, utterly still.