Fate collides with royal duty as William and Jeanna fight against unseen cosmic forces determined to keep them apart, risking everything for a love that defies tradition and destiny.
As Paul and I trudged toward the longer mountain route, I stared up at the steep, muddy incline like it had personally offended me. "Are you seeing this? I'd need divine intervention. Or at least a sherpa."
Paul chuckled, clearly amused by my dramatics. "Come on. It's not like we're summiting Everest."
"Says the guy with the steady footing of a goat," I muttered, carefully stepping around another suspiciously slick patch of earth. "Honestly, I signed up for stunning views, not a surprise audition for Survivor: Philippines."
After what felt like hours (read: fifteen minutes and several near-death slips), we finally made it to a small jeepney terminal carved out of the jungle. It was tucked between trees and clinging mist, like something out of a film—the kind that always ends in a plot twist. Vivid colors. Locals chatting. The occasional backpacker passing through. Somehow peaceful and buzzing at the same time.
Private vehicles weren't allowed up here—probably to protect the mountains from tourists like us. The only way forward was an old, weathered jeepney painted in bright neon streaks and religious slogans. We had ten minutes until departure.
Paul, of course, was practically glowing. "I studied up before the trip," he said, nudging me like a proud student. "I know how to say salamat and saan ang banyo. So I'm officially fluent."
"Excellent," I deadpanned. "We're saved in case of a bathroom emergency."
But before I could launch into another sarcastic comment, the air around us shifted.
You know that feeling when something big is about to happen? The stillness that hangs before the curtain rises? That.
I heard it first—the low hum of whispered voices, a collective murmur growing louder by the second.
And then I saw them.
Prince William. Prince Harry.
Yes, those Princes. Just... walking up to our jeepney terminal like it was completely normal.
They weren't flanked by security or flashing cameras. Just two tall, broad-shouldered figures in rain-damp jackets, quietly taking in their surroundings like seasoned travelers. There was no formal fanfare. And somehow, that made it even more surreal.
Harry glanced around, eyebrows raised at the locals casually lounging on the jeepney roof. When his gaze landed on us—on me—he grinned, boyish and warm, like we were in on some secret joke. "I swear we're not following you."
I blinked, unsure if I was breathing.
William gave a slow, charming smile and stepped forward, holding out a hand like we were old friends. "But since fate keeps tossing us together, we figured we should say hello properly. I'm William, and this is my brother, Harry."
He didn't need to say it. The whole world knew who they were. But hearing it? Hearing it like that? It was oddly disarming.
I took his hand, willing myself to stay cool. "Oh, right... I thought I recognized you. You're the guys from that British family with the castles and the scandalous headlines?"
Harry let out a laugh—deep, real, completely unguarded. "Guilty."
"Nice to meet you," I said, somehow managing not to trip over my words. I gestured toward Paul. "This is Paul, my—"
"Assistant," Paul cut in smoothly, wearing a grin that said you're welcome for this moment. "Strictly professional. No scandal here, Your Highnesses."
Harry raised an eyebrow, his grin turning playful. "So you're the one keeping her out of trouble. That's a full-time gig, I imagine."
Paul placed a hand over his chest. "I suffer nobly."
William chuckled, giving me a subtle once-over that made my heart lurch unexpectedly. "I admire your bravery, choosing the long route. We were tempted... until we saw the incline."
"We chickened out," Harry admitted with zero shame. "Took the scenic route. Dry shoes, unbroken limbs—it's underrated, really."
Just then, the jeepney engine sputtered to life with a loud groan. The driver gave a sharp whistle, and the vehicle jerked forward like a dragon waking up from a nap.
I grabbed the nearest metal bar to steady myself and couldn't help laughing. Of all the places in the world to meet the royal brothers—this was the setting?
A rickety mountain jeepney, fog swirling around us, and two of the most recognizable men on Earth sharing a ride like it was the most natural thing.
And just like that, we were off—bumping along the edge of a cliff, heart still racing from more than just the road.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
