Episode 7
As expected, Jereon wiped his right cheek with his hand before returning to his desk to receive Hassel’s report. With a solemn face, he reviewed the document with an air of seriousness that made him appear far more dignified than usual.
It must have been urgent—another official entered the office to deliver an additional report, and shortly after, the Crown Prince left the office with him.
Once Jereon was gone, the office returned to its usual peaceful state. Secretary Berin, apparently in a good mood, hummed a tune while doodling something on paper. As for me, I took the opportunity to write my novel with great concentration.
Free from surveillance, I felt refreshed. Thanks to that, I was more productive than usual—a very satisfying day indeed.
Ding—dong—
“The hour already?”
At 6 p.m., the nearby bell tower rang out, signaling the end of the workday.
‘Today, I won’t have to deal with a farewell cheek kiss—what a relief!’
Eager to make my escape, I quickly gathered my belongings and was just about to leave the office when the door suddenly burst open.
Bang—!
Startled, I looked toward the door. Of course—it was the Crown Prince.
“Haa, haa…”
He stood clutching the doorknob, breathless, trying to catch his breath before hastily composing himself.
“Ahaha, I made it just in time, Shanael. I came back on purpose—you know we have to exchange cheek kisses at parting, too.”
“Your Highness, did you really rush back just for that?”
“Why else would I run? Come on, let’s get it over with—I need to go back.”
Still confused by his urgency, I stood frozen. Frustrated, he strode over and bent forward.
But instead of merely offering his left cheek as usual, he leaned in closer than ever. In that fleeting moment when I caught a whiff of his cologne—something soft touched my left cheek.
Smooch.
It was his lips.
Stunned into silence, I didn’t say a word. Meanwhile, Jereon smiled brightly, looking quite proud of the gesture.
Slowly, I took out my handkerchief and wiped my left cheek. At that, his smile froze.
“Why are you wiping it off?”
“Your Highness does the same after cheek kisses.”
“Hmm… Still, wiping it right away feels a bit cold.”
Now you realize that? I thought, but said nothing, finishing the wipe.
Jereon crossed his arms, looking down at me with mock sternness.
“Don’t move.”
“…?”
Before I could react, he snatched the handkerchief from my hand.
“Don’t wipe it off from now on. I won’t either.”
“…Understood.”
Satisfied with my compliance, he returned the handkerchief, turned, and walked out of the room.
I watched his figure retreat briskly down the hallway, his crimson cape disappearing around the corner, before finally exhaling the breath I’d been holding.
‘Whew, that scared me!’
When giving a kiss, it never felt like a big deal. But being on the receiving end made my cheek tingle—as if a blooming heat had spread from the point of contact. I had wiped it because it felt too distracting, too difficult to ignore.
Perhaps that’s why the Crown Prince had wiped his cheek all those times, too.
Officially, the Crown Prince required two cheek kisses daily—one upon arrival, one upon departure.
Maybe it was the woody scent of his cologne, but just being in his proximity was enough to make me tense. I often held my breath and pecked him quickly, stepping away immediately.
Strangely, he never looked particularly pleased when I complied.
It wasn’t hard to imagine why other nobles dared not kiss him—his aloof expression probably discouraged them.
“Phew, no one’s around. Good.”
Lately, I’d taken to using less-traveled corridors when heading from the annex to the Crown Prince’s office, just to avoid his sudden, indiscriminate kiss requests.
‘What a coincidence, Shanael. I need to discuss state affairs elsewhere this morning, so let’s exchange our morning greeting here.’
That time, he’d said this in the middle of the palace garden—completely exposed from all sides.
Previously, these greetings were restricted to the privacy of his office. Luckily, no one else was around, or I’d have been mortified.
“Good, this corridor’s empty.”
Yesterday, we hadn’t crossed paths, so I skipped the morning kiss. I began to hope that missing enough of these rituals might eventually cause him to forget them altogether.
Meanwhile, Hassel’s beard continued to grow bushier by the day.
After sneaking through various corridors, I finally reached the office door. Just as I reached for the handle, the door opened from the inside and Jereon’s voice rang out.
Bang.
“Very well—adjust the maximum tax thresholds by region, as the administrator suggested.”
“Yes, Your Highness. I shall carry out your command.”
A group of officials, including Hassel, followed the Crown Prince out of the office. I quickly stepped aside, bowed my head, and tried to make myself as inconspicuous as possible.
I stayed in that position until they passed, then slowly moved toward the door.
‘Whew, he didn’t see me.’
Even if he had, surely he wouldn’t insist on a cheek kiss in front of so many witnesses… or so I thought.
Just as I was about to slip inside—
“Shanael.”
The Crown Prince called to me from a short distance away.
With difficulty, I turned my stiff neck and gave a deep bow, trying to avoid eye contact.
“G-Good morning, Your Highness.”
He should have moved on after such a greeting. But instead, he stood still, silently watching me.
‘Surely not—he wouldn’t… not here, with all these people watching…’
I dismissed the ominous feeling and tried to enter the office, but then—
“Shanael.”
“Y-Yes?”
“What are you doing? Come greet me properly.”
He opened his arms slightly, gesturing for me to come over.
Good grief.
Next to him, Hassel covered his face with a hand and turned away, clearly unwilling to watch.
I moved toward him with the weight of the world in my feet. Perhaps frustrated by my slow pace, Jereon walked over instead.
Just as I was about to rise onto my toes for the kiss, he beat me to it.
He gently held my shoulders, tilted his head—and first his nose, then his lips, brushed against my cheek.
Smooch.
‘What?!’
Only after feeling his lips press against my cheek did I realize what had happened.
‘In front of all these people?!’
I was too shocked to respond. Even seeing my wide-eyed expression, Jereon remained completely unfazed.
“Good morning, Shanael.”
“A-A good morning to you, Your Highness.”
Behind him, the officials were visibly rattled. Someone fumbled to pick up something they’d dropped. I could even hear Hasell sigh audibly.
Jereon, oblivious to the mood, carried on as usual.
“There’s a note on your desk I left for you. Use it as a reference for your next episode. Good luck.”
“Yes… understood.”
I bowed deeply—until my nose nearly touched my knees. I was so embarrassed I could barely function. Jereon, unaware of what he had done, had already turned away with the others.
‘There’s no way this won’t become gossip…’
How was he planning to deal with the fallout from such a ridiculous stunt?
I instinctively raised my sleeve to wipe my cheek, but Jereon glanced sharply at me.
It was a silent warning: I didn’t wipe mine, so don’t wipe yours.
Resigned, I lowered my hand and bowed again as he walked away with the others.
News of the Crown Prince’s kiss spread through the palace in no time. What started as “He gave someone a cheek kiss” evolved into “He kissed someone,” and finally transformed into, “He’s a great kisser.”
Oddly enough, that gossip boosted sales of a romance serial that just happened to feature a kiss scene.
Jereon clearly knew about the rumors, but apart from dismissing them privately to the ministers, he made no public statements to clarify the truth.
In fact, he seemed to enjoy the attention. But beneath that, he also appeared a little anxious—perhaps because he hadn’t really kissed anyone properly before.
I overheard him confiding in Hassel.
“Hasell.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Do you know how to kiss well?”
“…Rather than a secret, it’s something that improves with experience—just like training with a sword. By the way, have you been sleeping well? You seem fatigued.”
“…Various matters have been keeping me up.”
I glanced at Jereon, curious. He did look tired, with shadows under his eyes.
He rubbed his brow and continued.
“Experience, huh… Is there something I could practice on, like the mannequins in the training yard?”
“There is not.”
Hassel’s firm reply made Jereon lower his hand and ask, more seriously:
“Then where am I supposed to gain experience?”
“Your Highness, kissing isn’t about skill. It’s about feeling—mutual affection. A shy, clumsy kiss can be far more memorable than a technically perfect one.”
I nodded in agreement. My own first kiss had been awkward but unforgettable. Our noses had bumped, and we’d fumbled—but that only made it more endearing.
“Shanael.”
Lost in the memory, I was smiling when Jereon’s voice pulled me back.
“Yes, Your Highness?”
“Is that really true? That feelings matter more than skill?”
Hasell gave me a subtle signal with his eyes—a plea to play along and not let this escalate. I understood. I didn’t want to be dragged deeper into this either.
“I agree with Hassel. Even if it’s clumsy, as long as both people care about each other, it doesn’t matter.”
“I don’t want to be clumsy, though…”
“If it’s you, Your Highness, I think your partner would feel honored just to kiss you—skill won’t be a concern.”
I said it to discourage him from obsessing over something so trivial. He didn’t need to live up to everyone’s inflated expectations.
Ding—dong—
It was already 6 p.m.—time to head home. I planned to unwind with a light romance novel.
As the bell rang, Hassel swiftly gathered his papers and bowed deeply.
“Your Highness, I shall take my leave. Please get some rest tonight.”
“Hassel.”
“Yes?”
“Do you still suffer from metal poisoning?”
Given their earlier conversation, Hassel didn’t hesitate.
“Yes. At this rate, I may as well grow a magistrate’s beard and be done with it.”
He answered with the kind of seriousness that made it clear he had no intention of being a ‘practice target.’ Jereon sighed quietly.
Once Hassel left, I hurriedly packed up my desk as well. Berin, too, gave a quick farewell and dashed out the door.
Clack. The sound of the door closing made me uneasy.
“Your Highness, I’ll be heading out too.”
“All right.”
Jereon rose and stood beside his desk, as expected. The kiss ritual had become a matter of reading each other’s cues—would it be him or me initiating today?
He gave no hint.
When I asked if he only did it in the mornings, he’d simply said, “Depends on my mood.” So I’d developed my own method for figuring it out.
If he wanted to receive a kiss, he’d offer his left cheek.
If he wanted to give one, he’d tilt his head lower and lean in.
And when asked whether I preferred giving or receiving?
Honestly, neither felt less awkward than the other.
