The comet Euridian passes only once in a century, yet on the night that the crown prince Xavier was born, it lit up the entire Atlantia Empire sky for all to see. The hero of this world was meant to be like that of a North Star to a world that was losing its way to greed. Righteous and ideal, he represents everything that is right in this universe.

It is a universe that exists for him. Even as the female lead, the role I assumed is but a tool for his character development. Xavier has the world at his fingertips, but it was only from constantly having to rescue the heroine from danger that his ambitions to unite the four continents of this world awakened. In order to protect the female lead, he has to be the most powerful of all on land.

But I’m not all about that life. These past few years, I’ve been earning my own money, my first step to independence—of course with Kalel’s help. 

And when I say his help, it’s Kalel doing all the work, on top of administration duties for the dukedom.

The months have gone by peacefully. So far, we have secured a monopoly on the importation of coffee (of course), silks, and spices from the East. It started out with my cravings, not finding what I want in the market, and building relationships with merchants to source them exclusively for us. It gave me the same fulfillment of the career I left behind. I never thought I’d miss it. The thrill of trying to seal a deal! Yet Kalel returns to me with an even better done deal and a business plan.

“Please put your trust in me, my lady,” the ever-efficient Kalel always says, always exceeding expectations.

I’m once again reminded that the man I chose is extraordinary. The underworld heir who had been this world’s head wizard in another timeline is now a head butler working behind the scenes, but even that, he excels in.

He’s always by my side. But there are days like today when I sneak out and go into town wearing a robe on horseback. I need alone time once in a while. 

I leave my horse tied to a tree trunk, and continue on foot. It’s a nice opportunity to see firsthand what the gossip is or what’s the latest trend among merchants. Also, you might have guessed, but back in my old life, I really enjoy shopping, or even just window shopping and people watching. 

With my hood up, I walk in between stalls, when something red and shiny catches my eye—candy apples on a stick! 

“Mom, is that the poisonous apple in White Snow?” I overhear a tiny voice. It was a little girl with her young mother, it appears. 

The vendor didn’t react too kindly upon the innocent question. “How dare you!”

But the little girl isn't done peeving the vendor. “Is she the witch in White Snow with the poisonous apple?”

I couldn’t help but giggle. I ask her mother if I could buy her one as I also bought one for myself. She seems stunned by my sudden offer and nods absent-mindedly. Candy apple in hand, I squat down to the girl’s eye level and took a big bite, prompting her to do the same. But something distracted her.

She exclaims, “You’re White Snow!” and pulls down my hood. The vendor and the girl’s mother gasp. My jet black hair, long dark lashes and almond shaped black eyes tend to do that. My complexion is also noticeably whiter than everyone else’s.

I was beginning to attract needless attention, so I put my hood back on and gave a tiny wave goodbye. I went my own way and disappeared in the crowd. 

Across the street is a small charming book store. That’s my go-to book store.

From behind the counter, the shopkeeper is immersed in a book, brows knitted and shoulders tense, that I didn’t want to interrupt with a greeting. I’m here for the latest mature romance novel, Butler, Where Are You Touching? 

What? Old habits die hard.

I wander into world politics, and hidden between volumes on kingdoms around the world, one title caught my eye. Something I didn’t think existed in this world.

“Power to the People,” a deep, shockingly handsome voice reads the title aloud.

I turn around smiling, ready to discuss, but my body froze. Eyes unblinking, I immediately recognize who the voice belongs to. Abundant golden blonde hair—which he wears medium length, tousled away from his angular face—and emerald green eyes: these are features hereditary only to the imperial family of this world. The gallant aura of a fairy tale crown prince, the little sun of the empire. His commoner clothing of rough linens cannot belie his status. No matter his disguise, features, his imposing height and swole physique basically announce that he is at the very least a knight.

His eyes sparkle, as if satisfied with my reaction. He breaks the ice. “Do you know what it means?”

My mouth won’t move. He continues, still smiling, “Oh, I’m not about to scold you for forbidden literature. I actually find it very interesting.”

With the imperial family very much in power and imperialism and monarchy the only power structure in this world, books like these are basically treasonous. I look down, curtsy, and walk away. Treason is one thing to avoid, but I also want absolutely nothing to do with the male lead. I don't want his attention, the ire of the jealous noblewomen, the scheming of the greedy noblemen--none of it.

But he pursues me. “You have my word that I really won’t report you, or this establishment.”

I say nothing, still lost in a maze of book shelves. He adds, “In fact, I was hoping to have someone to discuss it with. Democracy. Curious idea.”

We’re still going around in circles, among bookshelves so narrowly lined up. “Hmm,” he speaks. “‘Butler, Where Are You Touching?’ Again with the unexpected literary choices, my lady.”

Oh my god!!! 

His peals of laughter fill the bookstore. “I am intrigued about where as well.” 

Aah!!! I hug my book close to my chest and quicken my pace until I finally reach the counter. I drop the usual number of silver coins, ignored by the shop keeper once again, and bolt out of there.

I don’t know what’s more nerve-wracking. The male lead in the flesh, or someone discovering my smut! I keep on running until I reach an intersection.

A tiny voice calls my attention. “White Snow!” 

It’s the little girl from earlier. She now has a tiny bunch of flowers in her hand and she runs up to me from across the street. I meet her in the middle—kids shouldn’t cross busy streets unsupervised.

But the sound of rapid hooves soared over the market noise. Her mother shouts in tears, “It’s a crazy horse!” 

The runaway horse dragging a rickety carriage was headed straight for the girl and my body just moved on its own. I dropped my book, scooped her up in my arms and brought the both of us back to the sidewalk.

Amid the commotion of screams and stalls being destroyed, strong arms wrap me tight. Broad shoulders, large, muscular arms—it was Xavier. I turn around to see the sunlight sparkling around him. He had an intense look as we were face to face. He was catching his breath.

A soft fragrant breeze blows upon us, and his wavy blonde hair and his robe flow as if in slow motion. I was entranced for a moment but snapped out of it.

The little girl wailed and hugged me, but her mom reached out to grab her and take her into her arms in tears. 

Xavier breaks the ice. His lips were smiling, but his eyes appeared to worry. “Are you alright?”

He was not needed in this situation. I was able to pick up the little girl out of harm’s way and myself, too. Him rushing over and coming to shield me with his large body was unnecessary. If anything, to avoid him on the edge of the sidewalk, it caused the coachman to maneuver the out-of-control carriage, almost colliding with the stalls. Luckily, some cloaked wizard was able to slow it down from a distance. 

I guess there’s no helping the hero’s sense of justice, but I was really fine without his help. 

So I get up, dust myself off, and stretch out my hand to help him up as his smile fades into a surprised look. “Thank you, but I could’ve done alright by myself.”

He scoffs and gets up without my help. “Is that any way to treat your savior?”

“I appreciate your concern,” I had to be honest. “But there is no savior here but me.”

The little girl’s mother spoke out in between sobs, ”How could we ever repay you, miss? First it was the precious candied apple. Now I owe you her life.”

In between sniffles, the little girl breaks free from her mother’s embrace and offers her flower basket. “Please take these, White Snow.”

I refuse politely. No reward is needed for helping out when you can. But the mother and daughter insist.

Somebody took the flower basket from the girl’s chubby pleading hands. It was Xavier. He was still here.

He even spoke for me, “She is delighted to.” He squints his eyes at me and whispers, “There’s no shame in accepting someone’s gratitude.” He dangles the tiny basket to my face, and I grab it from him.

By now, the mother and daughter had already made their way across the square, turning once in a while to look at me, all smiles.

But the townspeople are far from relieved. I overhear the whispers around us. “The horse was bewitched!”

“It can’t be! Demons and monsters have been extinct since the empire was founded.”

“Have you seen the horse’s red eyes? And when the soldiers recovered its body, it was already rotting!”

“You don’t mean to say—“

I feel uneasy. There were no such events or even rumors like this in the novel. Plus, I wasn’t supposed to meet the male lead now. The story begins at the Imperial Ball. Memories of how he made Sebastian suffer in the original timeline came rushing back. 

Xavier was listening intently to the gossip going around. I bowed to him discreetly, hoping this incident goes unnoticed. I turn away but he grabs my hand.

I glare at him.“What now?” I can’t help my animosity towards my true love’s enemy, albeit in another timeline.

He opens his mouth, as if he was supposed to say something but hesitated. Then he smiles, again with worried eyes. “Why do you look at me with such hateful eyes?”

I avoid his gaze. “I don’t know what you mean.” 

He loosens his hold on me and I walk away. He follows me closely.

“Why are you following me?”

“I just happen to be heading in the same direction.”

I ignore him. He gussies up to my side, walking backwards, facing me.

He cocks his head. “Have we met?”

I say nothing. He continues, squinting his eyes, “There’s no way I’d forget you if we have, so I am certain we have not. But something about you feels familiar…”

There’s no helping the strings that bind the protagonists of this world, I suppose. I ignore him again, picking up my pace and he keeps up perfectly. Why did I park so far?

He is not done pestering me. “And I’ve never met anyone like you. A noble woman alone and unguarded in town. Being friendly with commoners. Going up to a bookstore on her own. Considering a book on democracy…”

I stopped walking. “You’ve been following me?”

He did too, and shrugged his shoulders. “I couldn’t help it. Everything about you is so intriguing. You caught my eye ever since you disembarked your horse…”

I rolled my eyes and kept walking as he followed. “I’ve never seen anyone with black hair before. I think it’s even dark blue. It’s as dark as the evening sky…” 

He trails off. I turn to him and our eyes meet. “And all the stars are in your eyes.”

Typical. A laugh almost escaped my lips, but I held it in.

There’s sparkling amusement in his emerald green eyes as he looked at me. He’s still talking. “I’ve never met someone who would unconditionally put their life on the line for someone else without expecting anything in return.”

“You would.” 

My reply caught him off guard. I almost gave myself away—I know all about his back story, but he is not supposed to know that. “You saw someone in danger and did not hesitate to rush over and even used your own body to shield us,” I added. “In fact, you rushed so quickly that you weren’t able to discern that we were already safe on the gutter.”

He’s not convinced, but not in the way that I was avoiding. “Do you dislike accepting help from someone?”

I scoff. “You’re still talking about that.” I stop walking, and so does he. I look him straight in the eyes.

A gentle shower of soft pink petals fall around us. I didn’t realize that I had tied my horse to a cherry blossom tree in full bloom. The afternoon wind rustle the flowers loose. They filter the sunshine coming through, creating a dreamy pinkish light for us standing underneath it. 

This could have been a romantic moment if not for this person I’m with.

I step forward, getting closer to him, not breaking eye contact. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe not everybody needs you?”

He mumbles, “What?” His ears redden. He must be flustered. From the day he was born, everyone bowed to him, castrating themselves, kissing his ass. Even when he disguised himself as a commoner like this, people would be enamored by his handsomeness that he would be showered with awe and praise.

He is a full two heads taller than me. His long, thick neck tenses up. I put my face close to him, hoping to drive my point home and maybe get rid of him once and for all.

“You don’t always have to be the hero. Sometimes the most helpful thing that one can do is to allow people to save themselves.”

He is silent, staring at my face, as if lost in his thoughts. I turn away, saddle up my horse, and went on my way.

***

I managed to sneak into the mansion undetected. I’m not supposed to, but I speed walk to the second floor until I nearly jump out of my skin and come to an abrupt halt. Kalel was suspiciously fixing an already-straight framed painting on the hallway to my bedroom. 

I always had a nagging suspicion that he follows me during my secret excursions, but he pretends to be oblivious.

“My lady, your riding took longer than usual. It’s not good to be out for too long. You might encounter an accident…” 

Ha! So he was there.

OK, let’s pretend together. He then turns to me, not once looking at the basket of flowers behind my back.

“Would you like me to serve you some iced coffee and snacks after your bath?”

I put on my biggest smile. “Oh, Kalel. You always know best.”

I kept walking to my room, holding my posture, when he stopped me.

“Excuse me,” he utters. He reaches out to me. Where is he touching me? 

Where is my butler touching me… I dropped my smut novel!

In his fingers is a pink petal. He picked it from my hair and he didn’t look happy about it. 

“It appears spring has finally come for you, my lady.”