Veiled Among Kingdoms - Book One of Thrones Entwined

The days leading up to the gala had passed in a blur.

Fittings, changes, rehearsals, endless conversations—Kourtney had moved through them all with that steady, deliberate calm that disguised just how little time she'd had to breathe. The gala preparations moved like a relentless tide.

 And now, with the gala just a day away, this was the first moment that belonged solely to her.

She sat quietly in the farthest corner of the little café on Willow Lane—a place she'd found early on and claimed as her quiet retreat. The walls were a soft, muted cream, shelves lined with trailing ivy and dog-eared books. And the air carried the warm scent of cinnamon, espresso, and freshly baked almond pastry.

It was cozy, private—unbothered by the city's usual rush.

Kourtney sat with one leg crossed over the other. A single pastry—her favorite, a flaky one filled with vanilla custard—sat untouched beside a dark, steaming cup of coffee. Her fingers moved quietly over a page, work keeping her focus sharp, posture still and refined.

The soft clatter of cups, the gentle hum of conversations, the scent of fresh roast—it all blended into a quiet, cozy rhythm that let her focus without effort.

Even the sudden burst of whispers and stifled laughter barely pulled her attention.

Until the noise shifted.

She didn't need to look up to notice it—the ripple of quiet gasps, laughter behind hands, a few squealed whispers. Her pen paused briefly, then resumed without hesitation.

It wasn't worth her attention.

These days, people—especially girls—squealed over everything. She didn't bother looking up. Someone probably walked in with just the right jawline and a tailored coat. 

So she ignored it.

Until she heard footsteps coming closer.

Unhurried. Confident. 

The footsteps grew nearer—steady, with the kind of ease that always drew attention. And as they approached, so did the hushes. A ripple of whispers and a few too-loud giggles fluttered through the room.

"Well," came a voice, low and amused, with just enough charm to sound like fate trying too hard. "What a small world it is, indeed." 

Her hand froze on her cup. 

That voice. Not familiar. But not quite unfamiliar either. 

She looked up, and—there he was.

The sunlight behind him caught the tousled edge of his hair, gold and windswept, the kind that looked like it had been styled by accident. His grin was already in place—easy, crooked, like he'd stepped right out of a story where timing always worked in his favor.

Kourtney blinked once.

Internally, she sighed.

There goes my quiet.

But her face didn't show it. Not a flicker.

"Your Highness," she said smoothly, raising a brow. 

Robert gave her his best grin—the kind that probably had women tripping and drooling.

"Well," he said smoothly, "I'd say my day just got lucky," he said easily, voice dropping into something flirtatious. "Running into the most beautiful woman I've met… again."

Kourtney didn't even blink. She simply raised a brow a touch higher, composed, unimpressed.

"Well, it's good to know that you're charmed," she said coolly. "Though, Your Highness, you may want to consider how much I don't fancy seeing myself in tomorrow's headlines."

She glanced past him, subtly—but deliberately—toward the entrance.

Robert followed her gaze and grinned wider. "Already handled," he said lightly, and then tilted his chin to the side.

Sure enough, at the café's front, a pair of well-dressed guards were politely ushering a few patrons out, their tone apologetic but firm. One of them was speaking quietly with a woman holding her phone up, nodding as he checked the gallery.

"No photos," Robert said easily. "And no one too heartbroken, I hope."

Kourtney raised a brow, lips twitching. "Using your brain," she remarked dryly. 

He placed a hand over his chest as if wounded. "I'll take that as praise."

She rolled her eyes and looked back at the papers in front of her that she already covered.

He took that as an invitation to stay and pulled the empty chair across from her, settling into it without ceremony.

"You know," he began, voice lower, a little more playful, "Honestly, I'm starting to wonder the universe is trying to set something up here."

Kourtney gave him a flat look. Then scoffed lightly, leaning back. "And I'm starting to think the universe has a cruel sense of humor."

He laughed, delighted.

She arched a brow again, tone perfectly polite with just a trace of amusement. "Shouldn't you be somewhere managing a kingdom rather than loitering around cafes?"

"I do my best work when I'm not working," he said easily. "Besides, pastries are political. . This place has the best. I'd trade anything just for a bite of their almond tarts."

Kourtney looked vaguely entertained. 

"You should be careful," she replied coolly, "saying things like that. You'll end up sealing the impression you're giving."

Robert gave a low, amused laugh. "Oh, I don't mind the impression. Long as it's accurate."

Kourtney tilted her head, almost smiling. "I'd say I'm surprised, but… I'm not."

He only laughed again, unabashed.

"Speaking of impressions," he leaned in slightly, elbow on the table, "I've got to say… the way you burned Prince Keith—absolutely brilliant. That moment? Art. I have totally fallen for you after that."

Kourtney's eyes flicked up from her cup, more amused than before. "I'm surprised you enjoyed it. Shouldn't you be defending your fellow prince's honor?"

He looked almost scandalized. "I'm still replaying it in my head like a favorite song."

"You don't think I was out of line?" she asked, genuinely curious now.

Robert scoffed. "Are you kidding? I'd pay good coin to see Keith speechless. Man's made of stone and scowls. I've never seen him blink, let alone flinch— until you walked in and gave him the verbal equivalent of a slap."

She let out a quiet laugh at that—short, but genuine. "He is… remarkably stubborn."

Robert grinned wider. "That's putting it kindly."

Kourtney let the corner of her mouth twitch—not quite a smile, but something close.

Robert leaned back, watching her with open amusement, one brow lifted like he couldn't help himself.

"I'll be honest," he said, voice dipping into something softer—still playful, but just enough sincerity to slide beneath her guard, "I never thought Hillgovia would be this entertaining. But then again, I hadn't met you yet."

Kourtney blinked slowly, unimpressed. "Is that supposed to work on me?"

Robert tilted his head, grin widening. "No. But I do enjoy the attempt."

She gave him a long look. Measured. Unreadable. And then, like a well-timed checkmate, she said, "Then you should enjoy this—my coffee's getting cold."

A graceful dismissal.

Robert laughed under his breath, pushing back his chair. But as he stood, he added with a wink, "Don't worry. I'm sure fate's not done playing host between us yet."

Kourtney didn't look up this time, just murmured under her breath, "Lucky me."