The Prince's Short Circuit
[Jay's POV]
Day five of the study holiday started with a mischievous realization: I held the most dangerous weapon in the Watson Estate. It wasn't a legal document or a bank account.
It was information.
By the afternoon, the four of us were gathered in the main lounge. Mamma Serina was knitting something that looked suspiciously like a tiny baby blanket (I chose to ignore that for my own sanity), and Pappa Keizer was reading the financial news. Keifer was slumped in an armchair, his eyes glued to a tablet, looking every bit the serious scholar.
"Mamma," I said, leaning closer to her on the velvet sofa, a wicked glint in my eye. "Did Keifer ever tell you about the 'Statue Incident' at the University courtyard last semester?"
The tablet in Keifer's hand faltered. I saw his ears turn a faint, telltale pink.
"Oh?" Mamma Serina dropped her knitting, her eyes sparkling. "Do tell, Jay. He's been very tight-lipped about his campus life. He acts like a monk when he's away from us."
"Well," I began, ignoring the warning glare Keifer was shooting me. "There was this protest by the Art students. They had covered themselves in silver paint to look like statues. Keifer, being so focused on his 'Top of the Class' walk, didn't notice they were real people. He tried to lean against one of them to tie his shoelace—"
"Jay," Keifer's voice was a low, dangerous warning. "Don't."
"He leaned back," I continued, giggling, "and the 'statue' let out a very loud, very indignant sneeze. Keifer jumped so high he tripped over his own laptop bag and landed face-first in a pile of protest pamphlets. The 'Chill Prince' spent the rest of the day with silver paint on the tip of his nose."
Mamma Serina burst into a fit of laughter, clutching her sides. "Silver paint! Oh, Keizer, did you hear that? Our son was a canvas!"
"And then there was the time he accidentally joined the Choir instead of the Calculus Club because he was distracted by a math problem—"
"Okay, that's enough," Keifer growled, but he was smiling despite himself. He stood up, tossing his tablet onto the armchair. "The archives are closed, Jay. Come on. We have three chapters of Structural Analysis to finish."
"But I'm not done!" I cried, dodging his hand as I scooted further toward Mamma. "I haven't told her about the time you tried to use a drone to deliver a coffee to my dorm and it got caught in the Dean's wig!"
Mamma Serina was howling now, wiping tears from her eyes. "A drone! Keifer, you romantic idiot!"
"Jay. Room. Now," Keifer commanded, but his eyes were dark with a playful, possessive fire.
He stepped forward, his hand snapping out to catch my wrist. It wasn't a harsh grip; his fingers were warm and his touch was like velvet, but the intent was clear. He was done being the butt of the joke.
"Mamma, help me!" I laughed, trying to pull back, but Keifer didn't let go. Instead of letting me pull away, he stepped into my personal space, his shadow looming over me in a way that made my heart skip a beat.
"I think you've spent enough time in the 'Gossip Department' for one day," he murmured, his voice dropping to that gravelly tone. He started to pull me upward from the couch, his movements slow and rhythmic, dragging me toward him with a romantic gravity I couldn't resist.
"Mamma! He's kidnapping the witness!" I shouted, reaching out my free hand toward Serina.
Serina just waved her knitting needles at us, her face glowing with joy. "Oh, don't look at me, darling! I've never seen him this jealous of his own reputation. It's adorable! Go on, Keifer, take your bride-to-be away before she tells me about the time you cried over a C-minus!"
"I never got a C-minus!" Keifer shouted back, his face now fully flushed.
He started to drag me toward the hallway. It was a slow, playful tug-of-war. I was laughing so hard I could barely stand, my heels digging into the plush carpet.
"I have more stories!" I yelled back to the lounge. "Ask him about the 'Pink Flamingo' incident!"
"Jay, I swear—" Keifer laughed, his other arm suddenly snaking around my waist to pull me flush against him.
As we reached the door to the hallway, I saw my chance. I lunged forward and grabbed the ornate gold door handle, clinging to it like a lifesaver. "I'm not going! The public has a right to know!"
Keifer stopped. He looked at my hand on the handle, then looked at my face, a mischievous grin spreading across his lips. "You think a door handle is going to stop me?"
"It's a very sturdy handle, Keifer! Pappa bought it for its durability!"
"Challenge accepted," he whispered.
In one fluid, powerful motion, he didn't just pull me—he leaned down and scooped me up, throwing me over his shoulder like a sack of precious, laughing cargo.
"Eek! Keifer! Put me down!" I shrieked, my hands drumming against his back as I dangled upside down.
"Nope. You've been evicted from the lounge for 'Crimes Against the Prince'," he announced.
"Mamma! Save me!" I called out as he started marching up the grand staircase.
I saw Mamma Serina leaning against the lounge doorframe, her arm around Pappa Keizer, both of them watching us with identical, satisfied smiles.
"Sorry, Jay!" Mamma called out, her voice filled with laughter. "In the Watson family, the Prince always gets his way when he's this red in the face! See you at dinner!"
"Traitor!" I yelled, though I was giggling so hard I could barely breathe.
Keifer didn't stop until we were inside the Blue Suite. He kicked the door shut with his heel, the sound echoing through the room, and finally set me down on the edge of the large bed.
Before I could run back to the door, he leaned over me, his hands on either side of my hips, pinning me in place. The laughter was still in his eyes, but beneath it was that intense, steady love that always made the world stop spinning.
"Now," he whispered, his face inches from mine. "About those 'embarrassing things' at the university..."
"They're all true," I whispered back, my heart racing for a completely different reason now.
"I know they are," he murmured, leaning in until our noses brushed. "But from now on, you're only allowed to tell them to me. In private. Dealing with my mom is hard enough without you giving her 'Drone-Wig' ammunition."
I reached up, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "Is that a new Watson Decree, Keifer?"
"It's a request from a very embarrassed fiancé," he said, before finally closing the gap and kissing me, turning my laughter into a soft, contented hum.