The scent of burning wood and chilly forest dew seeped into the cabin, but the vibe inside was way more heated. Vanka stood in the middle of the room, her fists clenched so hard her knuckles turned white.
In front of her, Noah was busy sharpening his silver dagger with a whetstone. That steady *shing… shing…* sound felt like it was mocking Vanka's messy heartbeat.
"Noah, listen to me!" Vanka's voice went high, piercing the silence. "I can't stay here! This is an insult! I'm the Crown Princess of Aradelle. If my Father knew I was sleeping on wooden boards and breathing in this smoke, he'd send his entire army to level this forest!"
Noah stopped sharpening. He blew on the blade of his dagger, then looked at Vanka with an arched eyebrow.
"An army? The one led by that 'graceful' Uncle of yours? An army that couldn't even find the forest gates without my help? Go ahead and call them, Vanka. I could use the entertainment this morning."
Vanka stomped her foot. "You are literally heartless! Look at my hands!" She shoved her palms toward him; they were starting to turn red from trying to move a heavy iron pot earlier.
"They're getting rough. My skin… my beauty… you're literally destroying it bit by bit!"
Noah stood up, set down his dagger, and stepped closer. There were only inches between them now. Vanka could smell Noah's sharp, masculine scent a mix of pine and heavy magical energy.
"Your beauty?" Noah grabbed Vanka's hand, flipping it over roughly to inspect her palm.
"Honestly, Vanka, this hand looks way more useful now than when you were just using it to hold a silk fan. And your face..." Noah leaned down, staring deep into Vanka's eyes which were sparking with rage.
"Your face looks way more real when you're frustrated like this. No fake smiles. No powder covering up your emotions."
"Stop it with your painful honesty!" Vanka tried to yank her hand back, but Noah held on. "I'm begging you, Noah. Please. Just lift this curse. I'll give you anything. You want your kingdom back? I'll talk to my Father. I'll guarantee your position!"
"You think I want to go back to a throne that's already soaked in blood?" Noah's voice dropped, sounding dangerous.
"I'm an exiled prince because I refused to lie for politics, Vanka. And now you're asking me to go back there? You're so incredibly selfish."
"I'm not selfish! I just want my life back!" Vanka screamed, tears starting to stream down her cheeks.
"I'm scared, Noah! I'm scared every time I look in the mirror and see those gray hairs growing. I'm scared of growing old alone in disgrace! Please… just heal me for real. Strip away this dark magic of yours."
Vanka slowly collapsed, sinking to her knees in front of Noah. Her hands gripped the hem of his black cloak.
Her pride, which used to be as high as the Aradelle skyline, seemed to crumble onto the dusty cabin floor.
"Noah… please. I'll do anything. Anything," Vanka whispered, sobbing.
Noah looked down at the girl huddled at his feet. For a split second, a flash of empathy flickered in his eyes, but he quickly masked it with firmness. He crouched down to her level, then tilted her chin up to face him.
"Anything?" Noah asked softly.
Vanka nodded frantically, her hope rising. "Yes. Anything."
"Fine. Then, make me breakfast. No magic, no servants, and no complaining," Noah let go of her chin and stood back up. "If you can do simple things without expecting a compliment, maybe just maybe i'll consider softening the curse."
Vanka gasped. "Cooking? I don't even know how to start a fire!"
"Then learn, Princess," Noah said as he walked toward the door. "And honestly, if you keep crying like that, your eyes are going to puff up and you'll look like a swamp toad. It's not doing your beauty any favors."
Throb.
Vanka felt a warm sensation around her eyes. She knew Noah's brutal honesty had just kept her eyes from swelling despite all the crying. She wiped her tears away roughly.
"You're cruel! You're the most evil monster I've ever met!" Vanka yelled at Noah's retreating back.
"And you're my loudest new servant," Noah's voice drifted back from outside, followed by a low, annoying laugh that somehow sounded melodic to Vanka's ears.
Vanka stood up, looking at the iron pot and the raw ingredients in the corner with pure disgust.
"Just you wait, Noah. I'm going to cook something so bad you'll beg me to stop, and then you'll lift the curse just because you can't stand my food!"
Vanka grabbed a piece of wood, trying to light a fire with an old match Noah had left behind.
She failed over and over; smoke started filling the room, turning her beautiful face black with soot.
"Dammit! Why won't this fire just start!" she cried out in frustration.
Suddenly, Noah appeared in the doorway, leaning against the wooden frame with his arms crossed. He watched Vanka kneeling in front of the stove, her face covered in charcoal.
"Honestly, Vanka," Noah said flatly. "You look more like a chimney sweep than a Princess right now. But..." he paused, his eyes scanning Vanka as she struggled.
"That persistence of yours... it's slightly more interesting than your laziness at the palace."
Vanka turned, her sharp eyes piercing through the smoke. "Don't you dare compliment me, Noah! I know it's a trick to keep me cooking!"
"I'm not complimenting you. I'm just stating a fact," Noah replied calmly. "And honestly, if you put the dry wood at the bottom instead of the wet stuff, the fire would actually start. You really have zero basic logic, don't you?"
Vanka growled, throwing a piece of wood at Noah, who caught it easily. "Get out of here! Let me work!"
Noah chuckled and vanished from sight. Vanka focused back on the stove. Amidst the smoke and dust, she realized something weird.
Even though she was dirty, tired, and pissed off, she didn't feel a single 'throb' of aging on her face.
'Is it because there are no guys lying to me here?' she wondered. 'There's only Noah. And that guy has never said a single sweet word to me.'
Vanka touched her soot-smeared cheek. She felt alive. More alive than when she sat on a throne wearing a diamond crown.
"Handsome, annoying exiled prince," Vanka muttered as she finally managed to start a small fire.
"Just you wait. I'm going to conquer this forest, I'm going to conquer this cooking, and after that... I'm going to conquer you, Noah."
But behind her fire, Vanka knew that every second she spent with Noah, her hatred was starting to mix with something way more dangerous than any curse: a deep curiosity about the man who dared to call her face 'bad.'