I’m still a junior engineer with less than six months of real-world experience. These past few months have thrown me into the deep end, but they haven’t replaced the years of learning I still have ahead of me. I don’t want my growth tocome with an asterisk, or my successes to be quietly attributed to proximity rather than skill.
With Anya’s help, we find a middle ground. I won’t be Theo’s employee. Not yet. Instead, I’ll work with his firm as an independent engineer on a project-by-project basis while continuing to report to Anya. It’s a structure that protects both of us and gives me the space to become the engineer I want to be. It isn’t the simplest solution, but it’s the healthiest one.
One unexpected advantage of working alongside Theo is more freedom to make space for the diplomatic side of my life. I no longer have to compartmentalize. The princess and the engineer aren’t competing roles; they coexist. For the first time, the balance feels natural.
It’s January now,and my first major diplomatic visit to Ireland is this weekend. But first, we’re back in London, where we’ve spent the last two days finalizing a small pier-side coaster project in Brighton.
“Kaori?” Theo asks gently, looking at me over the top of his laptop.
We’re sitting side by side on the sofa in his flat. It’s just past teatime, and the sky is already bruised with purple and gray. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how early the sun sets here in the winter.
“Mmm?” I click Save on the rendering of the loading area I’ve been tinkering with for the last hour and glance over at him.
“Are you packed and ready for the big trip?”
“I’m packed,” I say, stretching my arms over my head until my back cracks.
“You are?” Theo arches an eyebrow, looking skeptical. “I only saw one suitcase in the hallway. Aren’t you supposed to have, I don’t know, an outfit for every possible diplomatic moment?”
“Normally, yes.” I close my laptop and give him a small smile. “But this is my first solo visit, and my secretary in Tokyo handled the logistics. My formal kimono alone takes up two giant trunks. They’re already waiting for me at the embassy in Dublin.”
His eyes widen. “You’re wearing a kimono?”
“Mm-hmm. For the formal reception on the final night.” I exhale softly, trying to force a sense of confidence into my voice that I don’t quite feel yet. “And I was hoping you might be my date.”
“You wantme?” He swivels fully toward me, his focus narrowing. “Is that even allowed? You’d be photographed with me. People will make assumptions. And we only just managed to get out of the tabloids.”
“I don’t care.” The words come out easier, more certain, than I expected. “You’re my boyfriend. Photos of us appearing together are part of the reality of being with me and I hope that doesn’t—” My breath stutters for a second as the weight of that reality hits me.
Theo doesn’t let me finish. He reaches out, threading his fingers through mine. “Kaori. Stop. I love you.”
My heart somersaults. He squeezes my hand. “I loveallof you,” he continues. “Princess. Engineer. The woman who crashes into me on bad days and makes them better. I don’t love the attention, but if it’s the price of having you... it’s well worth it.”
He pulls me onto his lap, his arms sliding around my waist and pulling me flush against him. “You know,” I tell him, nestling into the crook of his neck, “if I marry someday,I lose my title. I’d be a commoner. I’d be just like you.”
Theo snorts, the sound vibrating against my chest. “You’re perfect exactly as you are, Kaori. But trust me. You don’t want to be just like me.”
“Okay,” I whisper, resting my forehead against his shoulder. “Maybe notexactly. But I do want to be a little like you. I want your design instincts. Your quick thinking. Your surprisingly dramatic speeches. And,” I add, looking up at him through my lashes, “your ability to kiss.”
His laugh rumbles deep in his chest. “That last one? I think I can help you with that.”
I tilt my head up, and our lips meet halfway. It’s a soft, warm, steady kiss—the kind that feels like finally standing on solid ground after months of navigating sinkholes.
It’s a promise made without needing the words.
Twenty-Seven
THEO
If someone had asked me last summer where I’d be today, standing in a five-star hotel in Dublin in a tuxedo definitely wouldn’t have made the list of possibilities. Holding a glass of expensive champagne, about to have dinner with heads of state as the guest of a Japanese princess? Absolutely mental. Yet here I am.
Trinity House is the sort of hotel I’d normally avoid on principle, mostly because it’s exactly the kind of place my father would love. There’s a massive crystal chandelier overhead, parquet floors polished to a mirror shine, and a red carpet so plush, it feels like walking on a cloud. Everything is gleaming, buffed to within an inch of its life.
Kaori stands near the entrance beside the ambassador, the president of Ireland, and the capital city’s lord mayor, completely unfazed by the fact that the entire room is angled toward her.
She looks like a living piece of art tonight. Her kimono is a gradient of gold, soft-red, and warm-cream—colors that shift when she moves, catching the light like a sunrise. Herdark, silky hair is pinned up with a lacquered ornament, and without her usual glasses, her eyes look even larger than normal. The deep, warm-brown of her eyes reminds me of strong coffee—dark, steady and impossible to ignore.
My throat goes tight. I’m an engineer, not an artist, but tonight I feel inspired to create a coaster in her honor. I’ll call it The Dancing Crane. The spine will be sleek, with white and gold-gilded trim. The first drop will be a soft curve, like a crane’s wingtip, with an inline twist to represent her kimono’s sleeve catching the wind. Something that looks delicate at first glance, but is engineered to withstand any storm.
