Kiss the Stranger

“Yohan, what are you doing there!”

The moment I opened my eyes, the Steward grabbed his hair and stifled a scream. I, however, was nearly suffocating and could only gasp for air. Seeing me struggle, he hurried over and gently lifted Kamar’s shoulder off me. At the tiny gap that formed, I drew breath and, after a few desperate movements, wriggled out from beneath him.
“Cough, cough….”
A harsh fit of coughing seized me as I staggered off the bed and fell to the floor.

“Yohan!”
The Steward rushed to my side. I raised a hand to show I was all right, but each cough shook me helplessly. My entire body throbbed with each breath. I had no idea how long I’d been trapped beneath Kamar, but as oxygen flooded my lungs, a dizzy haze overtook me.
The Steward watched me for a moment, then strode to the window, threw it wide open, and took a deep breath. He shrugged his shoulders a few times as if adjusting to the cold air, then spun back to me.

Once my breathing steadied, he finally spoke.
“What happened? Why were you like that?”
His voice trembled with worry. I struggled to answer.

“I just thought he might be waking… but suddenly…”
I trailed off at a thought that struck me. The Steward, sensing something amiss, raised an eyebrow and pressed on.
“Something happened? Is there anything you can do?”
“No, that’s not it.”

Heat flushed my face. The Steward’s expression shifted, his eyes narrowing. Embarrassed, I averted my gaze. My heart pounded in my chest. My lips burned. My mouth was slick with Kamar’s saliva. When a sudden realization made the Steward’s eyes widen, I froze.
“Yohan… I can smell pheromones.”
“Pheromones?”

Flustered, I pressed my arm to my nose. Alongside Kamar’s sweet scent, I detected my own pheromones. I opened my eyes wide. The Steward said,
“You took the sedative, right? You definitely took it.”
“Yes, I did… but how did—”

Seeing me at a loss, the Steward sprang up. He retrieved the bottle of pills from his cart drawer and handed it to me. I popped a familiar tablet into my mouth and he followed with a cup of water. Only after I swallowed did he exhale and brush back his hair.
“It could be the Crown Prince’s pheromones. His scent overwhelmed the drug’s effect. To fill the room like that… what happened last night? Tell me everything.”
His voice was low, insistent. I swallowed and told him,

“I was watching him… he seemed to wake, then suddenly pulled me down… and we both fell on the bed.”
“And then?”
“He sniffed around me… then lost consciousness again. After that, what you saw.”

The Steward regarded me silently, his expression unreadable but full of questions.
“That’s all?… You were under him all night? No wonder your face was so pale. People are foolish… if I hadn’t woken, who knows what would’ve happened.”
He sighed deeply and shook his head.

“My words won’t help. Enough. Let’s drop it.”
I felt mortified and bowed my head. Without another word, the Steward turned back to Kamar. I waited anxiously for his verdict. After a moment of inspection, he frowned and looked at me gravely.
“He’s asleep, not unconscious.”
“Huh?”

I blinked in surprise. He nodded.
“Yes. He’s asleep—deeply.”
I stared at him, unsure how to react. He scratched his head, then continued.

“I’ve never seen him sleep even thirty minutes after such drugs—he’d wake at the slightest sound. Yet now he doesn’t stir.”
He sighed again and peered at Kamar. I watched too, astonished. Kamar’s complexion was far better than when he first lost consciousness, and his breathing was calm. Undeniably, he was in a deep sleep. Relief and bewilderment surged through me.
Yet it didn’t last. I saw Kamar’s brow furrow. The Steward noticed as well, and I froze.

“…Ugh.”
With a low moan, Kamar’s eyes opened. In the slow blink of his eyelids, my face appeared in his vision, but whether he recognized me I couldn’t tell. He only focused, and I saw his eyes—deep purple—before they closed again.
Kamar spoke. My heart pounded.

‘Yohan.’
“…What happened?”
Ah.

The hopeful flutter in my chest collapsed. My Kamar was gone; before me lay Crown Prince Asgail, his gaze icy.
As he slowly sat up, the Steward spoke first.
“You collapsed after drinking wine at the prayer ceremony. You were unconscious for over twenty-four hours…”

He corrected himself mid-sentence.
“More precisely, you lost consciousness, then slept deeply for several hours. How do you feel?”
I saw Asgail hesitate. His voice sharpened.

“Slept? I did?”
I reflexively shrank back, but the Steward remained calm and nodded.
“Yes. Even with loud noise around, you didn’t wake.”

“……”
“I don’t believe it either. I’ve used every sedative available and never seen him sleep so soundly. It was unlike unconsciousness—truly restful sleep.”
Asgail still looked unconvinced, yet unable to dismiss the Steward outright. The Steward pressed on.

“How is your condition now? I can’t be sure without tests, but visually, you seem even better than before.”
Asgail paused, then asked,
“…So you used no drug at all?”

“No, Your Highness. I swear.”
The Steward stole a glance at me. I shook my head slightly—there really had been nothing I could do. Asgail stared at the injection mark on his arm, then shifted topics.
“Fine. We’ll test this afternoon. Send for Muhammad; we need to review today’s schedule.”

He ordered his secretary and swung his legs off the bed. In that instant, I recalled him collapsing in a pool of blood. My hand shot out, but it was only a memory. Asgail looked at me with a fierce gaze. His words echoed in my mind.
‘If you ever touch me again… then.’
I hastily withdrew my hand and bowed my head. My whole body trembled, but worst of all was his cold, indifferent stare—no emotion, just neutrality.

Tears stung my eyes. Bowing my head hid them, but did nothing to quell the grief. As the first teardrops fell onto the carpet, the Steward, startled, called out,
“Your Highness!”
Asgail suddenly reached out, curling his finger under my chin and lifting ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ my face. He frowned. I widened my eyes in shock. He studied my face and asked,

“…Why are you crying?”
I blinked, and a tear slid down. The furrow in Asgail’s brow deepened. What if I answered wrongly? I forced myself to speak.
“I-I’m sorry. I felt relieved…”

“Yohan cared for me through the night.”
The Steward intervened swiftly. Asgail did not look at him, keeping his gaze fixed on me. Something bothered him, though I couldn’t tell what. My heart raced until the Steward added,
“Please commend him, Your Highness.”

Asgail glanced at the Steward, then back at me.
“……?”
To my surprise, the tension left his brow. He studied me thoughtfully and asked,

“What do you wish?”
I didn’t understand at first, staring at him in a daze. He repeated,
“How would you like to be commended?”

Despite comprehending, my mind went blank. I stared, wide-eyed, until the Steward suggested,
“How about a kiss?”
“Steward, what—!”

I turned to him in shock, and Asgail’s hand slipped from my chin. Realizing it, I looked back at Asgail. He stared at his own hand for a moment, seeming dazed—perhaps from just regaining consciousness. Then he let out a short, ironic laugh. I flinched, and he spoke slowly.
“If you were a woman, this would be your fourth kiss. How unfortunate.”
I didn’t know how to respond. My heart twisted, yet my mind felt oddly clear—perhaps that absurdity gave me courage. I looked up and asked,

“…Why the fourth?”
The cynicism left Asgail’s face, and a heavy silence fell.