That morning, Leela rose early to attend her private training with Prince Jing. It was an exclusive and secret practice, shared only between them, so only Master Lee was supposed to know-or rather, he was the only one who should have known. However, Ulysses also knew about these meetings and had promised his friend that he would keep the information hidden.

Jing trained her once a week in a concealed dojo nestled high in the mountains. For her, this training was an immense challenge-not just because of the intensity of the sessions, but because she would spend two hours alone with her unattainable love, enduring all the unavoidable touches their practice required.

As usual, Leela wore black lycra pants and a loose white blouse that hung just below her hips. Her hair was tied up in a bun, with a few stray locks falling freely around her face. She also wore simple, comfortable fabric shoes, perfect for the occasion.

She entered the dojo hesitantly and found the prince kneeling in the center of the room. A quiet, disguised sigh escaped her lips when her gaze fell on his bare chest. The absence of his top gave her an unguarded view of his impressive physique, his sculpted chest a sight that made her heart race.

She was used to seeing men's bare torsos as a warrior, but gazing at the prince unsettled her deeply.

She chose to focus her attention on the cozy cabin instead, trying to avoid being caught while her eyes devoured him.

The dojo was built of fine, sturdy wood, perched atop a mountain so high that the clouds seemed within reach. Peace and beauty defined the place, despite its unusual decor and lack of furniture. The only adornments were the white curtains draped over the wide, open windows, swaying gently with the breeze.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes. Without warning, Jing hurled a dagger toward her and leaped off the wooden floor. With a swift 360-degree spin mid-air, he landed gracefully on his feet.

Thanks to her sharp reflexes, Leela caught the weapon with one hand, her body still and poised. In response, he smiled in satisfaction, clearly enjoying the display of her skill.

"Today's lesson will be a little different from our usual routine," he announced, his tone steady and composed. "Though you've already proven your cunning with traps like this, a little extra practice won't hurt, tough girl. Today's class will focus on... flirting."

He spoke with such ease that it unraveled her completely. How could he say such words with such calm, when they sent her entire being into turmoil?

"F-Flirting?" she stammered.

"Of course. Why are you looking at me like that? You're a spy, remember? Your beautiful face should serve a purpose," he said with a mischievous smile, stepping closer to her. Tilting her chin up, he added, "Because, tough girl, you're the most beautiful warrior in all of Sapphire." His honey-colored eyes bore into hers with a penetrating gaze that sent shivers through her.

"Well, that's an exaggeration," she retorted, an unusual gleam in her gray eyes. "You've seen better," she added, her tone laced with malice.

He released her chin, visibly flustered. It was clear she had overheard him talking to the guys that one time-about her appearance.

"Leela, I..."

"Prince, don't break character, or I might end up teaching you how to wield the weapons of flirtation," she interrupted deliberately, steering the conversation away from how humiliating it had been to hear him say he'd seen more beautiful women. She already knew it was true, especially since the prince was infamous for his active love life with women handpicked just for him.

"You're right," he said, grinning. "You shut down my move with just one line. I think you know a lot about this subject."

"Prince, every woman is an expert in the art of seduction. Therefore, we can skip this lesson and focus on the fight."

"You love fighting!"

"No, I enjoy learning," she corrected, stepping closer to him with subtle grace. Then, she let the tip of her index finger trail along his cheek.

At such proximity, she could admire his chiseled face in detail, preserving the image perfectly for her private fantasies.

Suddenly, she drew the dagger he'd given her and launched an attack. Jing countered instantly, twisting her wrist to halt the strike, but she spun out of his grip, freeing herself in one fluid motion.

As soon as she gained enough distance to move freely, Leela struck with a series of kicks aimed at the prince, who dodged her blows with practiced ease.

In mere seconds, the two were spinning across the floor, their movements flowing like a dangerous yet sensual dance. Each step, each strike was laced with flirtation, their subtle exchanges elevating the tension between them.

But soon, the playful edge faded, giving way to a real battle. Punches and kicks flew between them as they dodged, countered, and attempted to overpower one another. Their movements were graceful yet fierce, and the fight quickly shifted off the ground. With their ability to defy gravity, they floated through the air, delivering martial techniques with effortless precision.

In a flash, Jing caught her right wrist, twisting it behind her back to subdue her. Yet, she twirled in midair, evading his hold with ease. Leela's mastery of gravity allowed her to move as though the air were her natural domain, like a bird born to soar.

With startling speed, she placed her hands on his shoulders for leverage, lifting her legs upward and wrapping them firmly around his waist in one seamless motion. Securing her position, she encircled his neck with her arms, bringing their faces so close their breaths became one. Their gazes locked, an unspoken connection igniting between them.

Caught in the heat of the moment, she closed the gap between their noses, her eyes teasingly inviting seduction.

"Prince, have you ever kissed anyone?" she asked with a sly smile, her tone dripping with mischief.

"What man my age hasn't kissed someone, darling?" he replied, equally playful.

"What might your lips taste like?" she murmured, tracing the curve of his mouth with her fingertip.

"Why don't you find out for yourself?" he replied with a provocative grin.

"I'm sorry, but I'll pass for now," she declined.

In an instant, she released Jing and vaulted over his head. Before he could turn to face her, Leela dropped behind him, wrapping her legs around his waist once more. This time, however, she had him trapped from behind. With one arm, she secured his neck, while her free hand held the dagger, its sharp tip brushing against the sensitive skin beneath his chin.

"Do you have me in your grasp?" Jing asked with a hint of irony, a half-smile forming on his lips.

Suddenly, his arms broke free of her hold with astonishing speed and skill. In one swift motion, he struck her stomach, leaving her breathless for a few seconds.

Without wasting a moment, his powerful fist shot toward her face, but she intercepted it with both arms. Spinning gracefully, Leela lifted her legs into the air, aiming a kick at Jing's face while still holding his arm. Yet, he deliberately threw himself backward, slamming them both to the ground, leaving her pinned atop him.

Before she could react, Jing grabbed both her wrists and pulled her closer to his face in one fluid movement.

"Still don't want to try them?" he teased again, his voice low and inviting.

She smirked mischievously. "I'd like to keep my beautiful lips intact, so I'll pass."

Jing spat out a tiny blade he had hidden in his mouth, the sharp edge embedding itself into the wooden wall.

"Is your offer still on the table?" she asked with a playful smile, but he shook his head.

"You missed your chance, darling." With that, Jing grabbed her by the waist and hurled her against the wall with no hesitation or mercy. He then leapt to his feet with a fluid motion. "You still have much to learn before I name you an official spy," he declared, his tone cold and serious.

Leela nodded silently, her disappointment unmistakable. She found it incredible how quickly he shifted his demeanor-from flirtatious, smiling, and playful to cold and indifferent, as though their earlier connection had never existed. Or perhaps she had taken his performance too seriously.

Biting her lower lip, she felt foolish.

Why did she allow herself to create fantasies in her mind, only to end up feeling so empty? That was how their practices always unfolded: brimming with tension, sensuality, and flirtation, only for him to end them the same way-distant, cold, and indifferent.

***

"Leela... Leela... Leeeeeela!"

"What?!" she growled as Ulises snapped her out of her daydream.

"You're more distracted than usual today," her friend said, snapping his fingers in front of her face. "Wake up, tough girl."

"Ulises..." she murmured thoughtfully, letting out a sigh of sorrow. "How do you stop loving someone?"

"By 'stop loving,' do you mean letting go of your obsession with the prince?"

"It's not an obsession," she shot him a glare. "I genuinely like him."

"You need to forget about that," he warned. "He's a prince, and you..." He scratched his nose. "You're... you."

"Why should I have to forget about him just because he's a prince? I don't understand why social divisions are so important that they become discrimination. I can't even stand the distinction between 'royal warriors' and 'non-royal warriors.' All of us give our lives on the battlefield for this kingdom.

"As for social differences, does it really make sense to assign someone's worth based on their economic status or lineage? We're all living beings who feel and suffer, who go to the bathroom and... deposit waste, and we all have the same body parts. So why does a relationship between the prince and me have to be impossible?"

Her friend scoffed at the way she concluded her speech.

"You're really analytical today. But the matter with the prince is different," he replied. "It's not just about being of royal blood."

"Oh, really?"

"You're the prince's special spy, and you don't know something so basic?"

"Stop lecturing me, Angelito."

"And you stop calling me that."

"You call me 'tough girl.'"

"Everyone calls you that, and you like it. But I'm a man, and I don't appreciate being called diminutives," he grumbled, annoyed, as she laughed.

"Sorry, Angelito."

Ulises crossed his arms in defeat. "Getting back to the point," he continued, "do you remember the crown prince's wedding?" She nodded. "Well, he married a woman from another kingdom because she was his chosen one-his complement."

Leela's eyes widened. "Why didn't I know about this?"

"Because you're always lost in your 'prince sighing' world."

"So, you're saying that princes can only marry their chosen one?" He nodded. "And how do they know who it is?"

"Have you noticed the choker that Prince Jing always wears? It's made of two jewels joined together to appear as one. When the prince meets the woman who becomes his complement and genuine love, the choker will split in two.

"At that moment, he will place one part of the jewel on her, and if the two glow together, it will mean she's the chosen one. From then on, whenever they're near each other, the chokers will emit a faint glow that's barely noticeable. However, if they're apart for too long or reunite after a separation, the chokers will release an intense light as a reminder of their bond. That's about all that's been revealed regarding the sacred jewel, and only those close to the royal family know its mystery."

"Wow... I'd love to wear that choker," she sighed.

"You're not of royal blood," Ulises countered with a mischievous smile. "Only someone with royal blood can be the prince's complement."

Leela looked down at the ground, her spirits crushed.

"And here we are again with the social divisions!"

"It's better for you to forget about the prince. Besides, you're a warrior-you wouldn't make an ideal wife for any man."

Leela nodded, sadness clouding her gray eyes. She wished she had been born under different circumstances-or that the world could simply be different.

***

The alarm woke her up, as it did every day, and she sat up suddenly in bed. Once again, her body was covered in cold sweat, and the emptiness that depressed her settled back into her chest. Two tears ran down her face, caused by the helplessness those dreams provoked. She hated feeling that sadness upon waking as if something or someone was missing.

She got out of bed slowly, unwillingly, but she had to prepare to go to work. As the head of editing at a journalism agency, she had to arrive on time to deal with the people under her charge and all the work they sent her for approval. Lately, the work had piled up, thanks to the emotional lows she was going through again.

After getting dressed, she barely touched her breakfast and fed the cat she found hungry on the street, one she hadn't found a home for yet.

"Goodbye, Angelito!" She didn't know why she called him that, but it suited him. She grabbed her keys and headed to work.

At noon, she decided to take a break and have lunch outside the office.

"Finally, you left your hideout!" Her co-worker and friend surprised her. "I've had to eat alone all week because you've been disappearing."

"I've had so much work piled up. Also, I've been feeling out of place lately; maybe it's the stress?" She replied absentmindedly.

Her friend looked at her suspiciously but didn't respond.

Soon, they arrived at a restaurant near the agency, the one they usually went to for lunch.

"Still dreaming of the never-never?" She suddenly picked up the previous topic after the waiter took their menus.

"It's such a real dream that I cry when I wake up. Do you think I should make an appointment with a therapist?" She answered casually, as they had talked about this issue many times before.

"What you need is a man to relieve all that stress from lack of sex."

"You and your ideas..." She shook her head with an amused smile, and her cheeks blushed.

"Think about it, Nora; you dream of a prince who is really handsome and with whom you go into battle." She chuckled mischievously. "You need a man to fight the most pleasurable battle you've ever had in your saintly and shy life." They both laughed.

"My mind isn't on a man right now. I... I need some answers, I can't explain it." She regretted letting those words slip, knowing her friend wouldn't understand. "Have you ever felt like you belong in another place and had another life?"

"Of course! The blonde nodded. "I should be a millionaire, living in Hollywood, and married to Brad Pitt." They both burst into laughter.

He woke up early, as usual, and glanced at himself in the mirror, satisfied with his attire. This time, unlike every other morning, he dressed casually. He wore fitted black pants, a white T-shirt, and a jacket the same color as his trousers. For footwear, he chose simple black sneakers.

He had combed his hair as usual, though a stray lock or two always found their way across his face. His true desire was to let his hair grow out, but he had no choice but to keep it trimmed to neck length because of his job-and because his mother kept a close eye on his appearance.

Once ready to leave, he slung his belt pouch over his body. Inside, he carried everything he needed for his outing: charcoal pencils, an eraser, a blade, and his sketchbook-just in case inspiration struck him suddenly, as it often did on days like these.

He didn't take his car. Instead, he decided to travel to that city by train and planned to use the bus to get around once he arrived. The visit filled him with a sense of freedom and satisfaction-finally, he would live on his own, free from his mother's constant interference.

After a few hours, he reached the city and spent his time exploring it by bus and on foot, eager to familiarize himself with the place he would soon call home.

By midday, he was walking downtown, searching for a good restaurant to have lunch. He hurried toward a group of people preparing to cross the street, but the traffic light turned green, forcing him to wait for it to change again. In the meantime, he amused himself by watching the cars go by.

His thoughts wandered, and he didn't notice the light changing. He snapped back to reality only when he saw another group of pedestrians already crossing the street.

Instead of rushing to join them, he froze in place. His eyes locked on a woman on the other side of the street, dressed in a thick gray skirt and a crisp white blouse. Her chocolate-brown, wavy hair fell just above her waist, and her figure struck him as remarkably attractive.

She seemed to be in a hurry, her steps brisk against the pavement. He felt an inexplicable urge to follow her, but his body refused to cooperate. Under normal circumstances, such a desire would have struck him as odd, even unsettling, but this wasn't an ordinary situation-unless, of course, his mind was playing tricks on him.

Was he seeing a vision? Could what he was witnessing truly be real?

He snapped out of his trance when he noticed the woman turning a corner, about to vanish from his sight. It was then that he decided to cross the street, intending to follow her. However, the traffic light changed again, leaving him with no choice but to watch her disappear and be consumed by his lingering curiosity.

***

"Earth to Edward!" A slender young man with chestnut hair approached him, dressed in an executive suit identical to his own. "What happened on your trip yesterday that's got you so lost in thought?"

Edward looked at him, dazed, as though he were losing his mind.

"What would you do if you saw, in real life, the face of a woman you painted in a portrait-a face you thought came from your imagination?" he asked, his voice trembling.

His friend stared at him in confusion, as if he couldn't make sense of a single word.

"What are you talking about?"

"Do you remember the painting of the gorgeous brunette?"

"Ah, yes! Your favorite piece," his friend replied. "It's an incredible painting. That woman looks so real like she could step right out of the canvas," he added, still marveling at the memory of it.

"I saw her yesterday," Edward said, his voice trembling as fear flickered across his face.

"What are you talking about?" His friend frowned skeptically. "Don't mess with me. You told me you didn't use a model or even a reference image for that painting."

"That's true," Edward confirmed with a nod. "She came completely from my imagination."

"That's impossible... Maybe you just thought you saw her."

"I know what I saw," Edward stated firmly.

"Did you talk to her?"

"No, she was too far away. I was going to follow her, but then she disappeared."

"Well, it's not really that strange. We see faces and images all the time. Even when we don't focus on them, they stay locked away in our subconscious. Maybe you painted a memory you didn't even know you had. Or it could just be a coincidence. If you saw her up close, you might realize she doesn't look as much like your painting as you think."

"You're probably right." Edward let out a small laugh, feeling foolish for letting his imagination run wild.

"Speaking of which, Edward-your mother is waiting for you in her office."

"Oh, right!" He straightened up quickly. "Today's the meeting where they announce my transfer."

"Wow! What's it like to become the new CEO of the largest branch of your parents' media empire?"

"I feel a heavy weight of responsibility on my shoulders, but at the same time, a sense of freedom," Edward admitted. Both of them laughed, knowing exactly what he meant.

Hours later, Edward stepped into the spacious boardroom and noticed that everyone was already in their seats. As usual, his mother sat at the head of the table, right beside his father-the undeniable rulers of the room. Their presence radiated an intensity that demanded respect, ensuring order and discipline among the employees.

His mother, a strikingly beautiful, petite Asian woman, was a stark contrast to his father, a towering man with fair skin and honey-colored eyes. Edward had inherited his eye color and his solid build from his father, but everything else-his sharp features, his expressions-came from his mother.

It was always amusing to see his parents together: his father, commanding attention with his sheer physical presence, and his mother, equally commanding but through the force of her will. There was no question-she was the one in charge.

His older brother, on the other hand, had inherited their father's stature and features, save for his small, dark eyes, a clear gift from their mother. As the eldest, he was next in line to become the CEO of their family's primary company.

Edward, meanwhile, was set to take the reins of a branch in another city, as the current CEO of that location was retiring.

The details of his transfer were finalized, but there was one unexpected change-they had moved up his departure to just two weeks away.

For some reason, this impending trip filled him with a deep, inexplicable happiness. It felt as though something was waiting for him there, something that would finally bring him the answers he had been searching for. Perhaps, in that new city, he would be able to shake off the emptiness and sense of loss that had been haunting him in this place.

The non-royal warriors had gathered in the training field, where they were receiving special instruction from the royal warriors' masters, including Prince Jing himself.

"Attention!" bellowed a man in his forties, his dark skin glistening under the sun. Like most warriors, his body was muscular and solid, a testament to years of rigorous training. "Today, we are joined in training by Prince Jing, his warriors, and his trusted masters. As you already know, the Northern Kingdom has declared war on us.

"In these dark times, the Western Kingdom stands as our ally and will fight by our side. Meanwhile, the Eastern Kingdom has chosen to remain neutral for now, though it's highly likely they will align with our enemies sooner or later, driven by their fear of being attacked by traitors. We are well aware that many rebels and tribes have joined forces with them against us, hoping to gain access to our energy source and resources if we are conquered.

"Warriors, let us give our lives on the battlefield!" he roared with fervor, igniting the same spirit of determination in the others.

The warriors were divided into groups, each led by a non-royal master and a noble commander. Master Lee and Prince Jing were tasked with training the best non-royal warriors, among whom was Leela.

After several hours of intensive training, the group led by Jing and Master Lee took a break. Leela seized the opportunity to fetch water and bring it to her instructors.

"I don't understand why you even train with us when you never step onto the battlefield," said one of the two women who approached her. Both looked intimidating, with their muscular builds and towering height.

"Maybe she's here for the warriors' amusement. What else could this bitch be good for?" sneered the other.

Leela was about to unleash a torrent of sharp retorts when the prince unexpectedly intervened.

"She is undergoing trials for a special mission among my elite warriors," Jing stated coldly. The women turned pale as they realized who had spoken, their features frozen in terror.

"Such insolence deserves punishment," Jing continued, his voice unwavering. "Your foolish and disrespectful words have insulted not only her but all of us.

"My camps are no brothels, and none of my warriors are here for anyone's entertainment." Turning to two nearby masters, Jing called them over. "What punishment do you recommend for a woman who has insulted the crown and the King's warriors?"

The crowd fell silent, stunned. The accused woman, Danna, was one of the best among the non-royals and highly esteemed.

Sensing the gravity of his disciple's situation, one of the masters fell to his knees before the prince, pleading, "Please, forgive Danna's thoughtlessness, my lord!"

"I will not tolerate such offenses among my warriors," Jing replied with icy resolve. "However, if she apologizes to the warrior she insulted, her punishment will be reduced to three days in the dungeons to reflect on her actions."

The master gave the girl a pleading look, knowing how proud she was. To his surprise and relief, Danna nodded in agreement and knelt before Leela, her gaze lowered.

"Warrior, forgive my ill-intentioned words," she said.

Leela gave a slight nod in response. Immediately, two warriors seized the woman and led her away to be imprisoned.

"Master Lee," the prince addressed Leela's mentor, "I need Warrior Brown to accompany me. We have a pending training session to attend."

Master Lee nodded respectfully, and the prince began to walk away from the camp, with Leela following close behind.

They vanished into the forest, walking in silence for what felt like a long while. When they were far from the others, they stopped by a green, crystalline river surrounded by trees, where a small waterfall cascaded down.

Jing stepped into the shallow waters without a word, and Leela followed him without question, though her gaze darted around, intrigued and filled with curiosity.

The narrow path led them to a cave. They walked for another five minutes before Jing came to a halt. He turned to face her, their eyes locking, and Leela began to tremble with nerves.

Jing frowned as he noticed her reaction.

"Leela, you make yourself weak when you let your emotions control you. That's the reason I haven't officially designated you as a spy yet-you're still fragile and don't act like the warrior you're meant to be. Instead, your behavior resembles that of an ordinary girl."

"I'm not just interested in your skill in battle. I need to see your strength of character and discipline. At the same time, I need to trust your sound judgment and emotional intelligence."

His cold and rough way of speaking about her left a bitter taste in her mouth. Her sad and embarrassed expression didn't go unnoticed by the prince. Without warning, he grabbed her by the waist and pressed her against the wall, trapping her with his body.

Confusion and fear flooded her, as she hadn't expected such an abrupt move from him.

Suddenly, Jing brought his face closer to hers and brushed her lips with his. She, on the other hand, was trembling from the unexpected proximity.

Jing locked eyes with her as if waiting for some sort of reaction, but Leela remained still and stunned. He leaned in closer, his voice a low whisper near her ear.

"These feelings you have for me make you weak and dull your reflexes. Right now, you're easy prey."

He brushed her cheek with his thumb, his expression sharp and laced with irony. Leela, however, stayed frozen in place.

Jing took advantage of her disorientation, grazing her lips with his. Though his movements had been confident at first, hesitation crept into his gestures, and it was clear he was waging an inner battle.

Leela, noticing the prince's internal struggle and his faltering resolve to fully commit to the kiss, let her impulsive nature take over. She kissed him.

Jing's almond-shaped eyes widened as he felt his subordinate's lips pressing boldly against his. He didn't move at first, but Leela continued tasting his lips as if they were lovers.

After a few moments of stunned silence, Jing grabbed her face with both hands and returned her daring gesture. He couldn't pinpoint when he'd lost control or the thread of his reprimand-he had only meant to provoke her to prove his point.

How could I have fallen into my own trap? he thought, horrified.

Jing's tongue sought hers, but Leela, inexperienced as she was, quickly began to lose her breath. Noticing her struggle, he pulled back, his thoughts scattered. He couldn't believe what he had just done, nor the effect the impulsive act had left on him.

"How dare you kiss the prince?" he demanded, his voice uneasy and laced with nerves. Jing was far from his usual calm demeanor, his eyes filled with confusion and astonishment.

"Forgive me, Your Highness, but you started it," she retorted, crossing her arms. She feigned composure, though, in truth, she was just as confused, nervous, and overwhelmed. It all felt surreal-their shared moment, his reactions, and her own boldness.

"I started it?" He shook his head, incredulous. "Leela, it was you who kissed me so shamelessly. That was audacious and entirely inappropriate."

She responded with an ironic smile, driven by the frustration his blatant hypocrisy provoked.

"It was you who cornered me and pressed your lips against mine. All I did was finish what your hesitation wouldn't allow you to do. So, Prince, don't tell me this was just another one of your bizarre lessons," she retorted, offended by his audacity.

"Of course it was!" he raised his voice. No one-except for Lars-had ever confronted or challenged him so directly. This girl was insufferable, an insolent pest who made him lose his composure. "I only wanted you to understand that your feelings for me make you weak. They prevent you from becoming the true warrior you're meant to be. Emotions like these only serve to destroy you."

"Ha!" she scoffed, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Feelings? I think you're mistaken, Prince," she countered.

In response, he closed the distance between them once more, a malicious smile playing on his lips.

"Do you think I'm so inexperienced that I haven't noticed you spying on me?" Her eyes widened, and her cheeks turned crimson. She was in trouble. "Or... what about the way you get so nervous during our training sessions? When I'm not present-no, better yet, when you think I'm not present-your reflexes and techniques are extraordinary."

"You're focused, strong, and without weakness. Yet, the moment I'm near, you become someone else entirely. You turn into an ordinary girl, Leela. But you're not like other women. If you're going to take on the challenge of becoming my chosen spy, you'll have to forget what it means to be human. You'll have to swallow your emotions and feelings whole."

She held her breath, her muscles tightening. She knew she had to let go of him and end the obsession that could only lead to trouble. Yet, his cruel and unrelenting way of addressing her stung deeply, wounding her pride and threatening to trample what little dignity she had left.

"Prince," she said, her voice firm despite the storm within, "perhaps I've admired you more than I should have, but it has nothing to do with what you're insinuating. I regret that my lack of discretion caused you discomfort, and I promise to focus on becoming the best spy in all of Destello. I will no longer be that 'ordinary girl' you speak of," she declared with conviction.

"I should hope so," he muttered through clenched teeth.

"But, Prince," she added, drawing his honey-colored eyes back to her, "I see no reason to keep delaying my official designation as a spy. And regarding the kiss-" she paused, needing to release the anger threatening to consume her, "we were both to blame. It would have been an affront if I hadn't reciprocated, savored, and enjoyed it. But let's not pretend you were the saintly dove in this scenario. You could have stopped and reprimanded me. Instead, you seemed to enjoy it far more than I did."

The prince's eyes looked as though they might pop out of their sockets at her words. Unfortunately, she was right. How could he argue with that? Clearing his throat, he searched for a response-if he even had one.

"I'm a man," he finally offered, though his tone was uncertain. "You're beautiful and bold. I simply played along."

"Yes, I'm aware that not even the prince can resist that primal male instinct to take advantage of such opportunities," she replied, disappointment heavy in her voice.

"Don't misunderstand me. It's not as if I go around letting just anyone kiss me, Leela. But we should let this matter end here and forget about it."

She nodded, relieved.

"In any case," he continued, "I brought you here for another reason."

From his pocket, he pulled out a crystalline brownstone, which she eyed with curiosity.

"It's a key," he explained, understanding her silent question. "This key..." He stepped toward the rocky wall and inserted the stone into a small crevice, "...opens the door to your new hideout, official spy."

He smiled as the wall shifted, revealing a hidden entrance.

"Inside are the most guarded secrets of my leadership among the warriors. This is also the hub of all the advanced technology we use in Zafiro. Though you didn't pass this final test with flying colors, it's time for you to officially join the ranks of my best spies. Congratulations, Leela Brown!"

Leela nearly jumped with joy.

'An official spy! I can't believe it!' she celebrated in her thoughts, her eyes welling with tears of happiness. At last, years of hard work and sacrifice had borne fruit.