The Fallen Princess

The Second Fall

Unamused by a scene he had already witnessed countless times since last year, Mr. Patrick didn't bother hiding his exasperation, "What's your excuse today, Edmund?"

His uniform should have been flawless, yet Edmund's blazer and shirt were marked with flecks of dried soil. Even so, the clear Rasputin-blue of his eyes glowed with the familiar, earnest determination that defined him. His strong shoulders and athletic build could have been intimidating, but the warmth he carried softened everything— giving him that unshakeable golden-retriever charm that made people fall for him and trust him instantly.

He offered her a small, regretful smile, "A kitten was stuck in a muddy ditch, sir. It kept meowing so pitifully. I tried to rescue it, but it was scared and kept struggling."

Mr. Patrick rolled his eyes— not because he didn't believe the excuse, but because he fully did. Edmund's reputation for honesty was solid, and the dirt on his clothes was proof enough. The girls around the lab tables melted into soft "aww"s, already imagining him cradling a muddy kitten. Mr. Patrick said without a second thought, "Stop being so princely. Just sit with Eve at the back near the window. She doesn't have a partner yet,"

Instantly, the girls' adoration turned into glares— sharp, cold, and directed entirely at Eve.
Why her?
Why would she get to sit beside him?
Eve, the seductress. The fallen heiress. The threat.

Eve simply shrugged, unfazed by their hostility.
It wasn't her fault Edmund arrived exactly when she was about to ask the boy next to her to partner with her out of desperation, in case Mr. Patrick stubbornly command everyone that a partner is an obligation.

Oblivious to the tension building around him, Edmund walked calmly to the back and sat down beside her.

Once Mr. Patrick finished explaining the experiment, the class began mixing chemicals. While everyone else focused on their task, Eve made her first attempt to approach him. As they reached for the same beaker, she brushed her hand against his "accidentally"—the same subtle tactic she'd used countless times when flirting.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice slipping into a suggestive tone she hadn't meant to use. She'd planned a gentler approach for Edmund, but the habit came out too naturally. Instead of blushing or offering a flustered smile, Edmund stiffened. 

Confusion flickered across his face, "You should be careful," he said sharply. "If I slip and drop this compound, we'll have a much bigger problem."

Eve froze. She didn't think it through — she simply heard the rejection in his tone and everything inside her went still. His words were sharp, cool in a way she had never expected. This wasn't the warm, gentle prince she had built up in her mind. This was someone distant... someone capable of brushing her off without hesitation.

For a moment, she wondered if she had misread him.

But then, with that quiet, painful misunderstanding settling in her chest, she drew her own conclusion — one that couldn't have been further from the truth:

Even the kind-hearted prince cared about status.

"I'm sorry... you must feel disgusted by my family's condition," Eve said quietly. Her voice held real sincerity. Shame still weighed on her, thick and suffocating— but beneath it burned a stubborn determination to rise again one day. Somehow.

"That's not what I meant at all," Edmund replied, meeting her gaze. His eyes were gentle. He didn't look away, didn't flinch, didn't judge her. His earlier tone had been concern— nothing more. Dropping the chemical could have caused a serious accident.

"It's okay," Eve said softly, hiding the sting, not completely convinced by his words, "Most people here probably feel the same. If you hadn't been late, Mr. Patrick wouldn't have paired us together. You wouldn't have even noticed I... didn't have anyone."