Transmigrated as the Crown Prince's Mate
Chapter 193: Last Night...

Chapter 193: Last Night...

The celebration went on well into the night. Goblets clinked, laughter filled the air, and for the first time in a long while, Evelina felt she could finally relax.

Damian had kept his promise, spinning her around the room in a slow, intimate dance as the musicians played a soft, lilting tune. His touch was light on her waist, but his eyes burned with something deeper.

When the music ended, he leaned close, his lips brushing against her ear.

"Another?" he murmured, his breath warm against her skin.

Evelina chuckled, shaking her head. "You’re insatiable, Your Highness."

He smirked. "Only when it comes to you."

Jasper groaned from the side. "Gods, I need more wine to endure this."

The laughter continued, but Jasper felt the night slipping away beneath his fingers. While Damian and Evelina basked in their well-earned triumph, he had other matters weighing on his heart.

Princess Seraphina.

She would be leaving Arcadia at dawn.

The thought made something tighten in his chest, though he refused to give it a name. All he knew was that he couldn’t let her leave without seeing her one last time.

So as the party wound down and the nobles stumbled back to their chambers, Jasper quietly slipped away.

—

The moon shone brightly in the night sky, lighting up the dark palace grounds with a soft silver glow. Jasper moved quietly, like a shadow, through paths he was familiar with.

His boots barely made a sound on the damp ground as he headed toward the hidden hunting cabin in the woods... where Seraphina had been staying—hidden away until her departure.

He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his tousled hair. He hadn’t planned on saying goodbye. He wasn’t one for emotional farewells, and Seraphina... well, she wasn’t the type to dwell on them either.

And yet, here he was.

With one last breath, he pushed the door open.

She was standing by the window, dressed in a simple cloak, her hair cascading over her shoulders. The glow of the lantern flickered over her delicate features, illuminating the softness in her violet eyes when she turned to face him.

"You came," she murmured.

Jasper stepped inside, pulling the door shut behind him. "Tch. You sound surprised."

She tilted her head, amusement dancing in her gaze. "A little."

He scoffed, leaning against the wooden frame. "You wound me, princess."

Seraphina chuckled, though the sound was softer than usual. She studied him for a moment, her gaze lingering on the rolled parchment in his hand.

"Is that for me?"

Jasper hesitated before stepping forward, handing her the drawing he had spent hours perfecting.

She unrolled it gently, her breath hitching as her fingers traced the lines of charcoal. It was a portrait of her, captured in quiet serenity—the way he saw her when no one else was looking.

"You drew this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jasper shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "Don’t make a big deal out of it."

But Seraphina didn’t listen. Instead, she set the drawing down carefully on the table and took a step closer to him. Then another.

Jasper barely had time to think before she was standing right in front of him, looking up at him with something unreadable in her violet eyes.

He swallowed hard. "What?"

"You don’t usually look at me like this."

His heart pounded against his ribs. "Like what?"

She smiled—just barely. "Like you don’t know whether to run or stay."

Jasper opened his mouth, but no words came. Because she was right. He didn’t know what the hell he was doing. He had spent his entire life running—from responsibility, from expectations, from anything that felt too much like permanence.

But Seraphina...

She made him want to stay.

And so, for once, he didn’t think.

He just moved.

His hands cupped her face, tilting her chin up just as he leaned down, capturing her lips with his.

The kiss was slow, hesitant at first—like neither of them could quite believe it was happening. But then Seraphina sighed against his mouth, her fingers curling into his shirt, pulling him closer. That was all it took for the hesitation to melt away.

Jasper deepened the kiss, one hand sliding to the small of her back, anchoring her against him. She tasted like honey and something forbidden, something that made his head spin.

When they finally pulled apart, Seraphina’s cheeks were flushed, her breath uneven.

Jasper exhaled shakily, pressing his forehead against hers. "Dammit," he muttered.

Seraphina let out a soft laugh. "What?"

He closed his eyes. "You make things complicated."

She smiled, her fingers brushing against his cheek. "You like complicated."

He huffed, but didn’t argue.

After a moment, she pulled back slightly, her expression turning serious. "I have to leave before sunrise."

Jasper tensed. "I know."

"Thanks to you, I’ve managed to remain hidden," she continued. "I just have to be back in the carriage before dawn."

Jasper ran a hand through his hair. "But how—?"

She bit her lip, glancing toward the wardrobe at the corner of the room. "I’ll sneak into the stable and hide in one of the carriages before they depart. The maids are already preparing the supply carts."

Jasper frowned. "That’s risky."

Seraphina smirked. "I can handle it."

Jasper stared at her for a long moment before sighing. "Of course you can." He reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together. "Are you sure about this?"

She nodded. "It’s the only way."

Jasper didn’t like it. But he knew there was no talking her out of it.

So instead of fighting it, he pulled her in again, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead.

"Fine," he muttered. "But if you get caught, I’m blaming you."

Seraphina laughed, the sound light and free. "Deal."

And just like that, the clock continued ticking down to dawn.

—

Jasper hadn’t slept a single moment. The moment Seraphina’s lips had touched his, sleep had become a distant concept—something that belonged to simpler times, to boys who didn’t kiss princesses on the verge of disappearing forever.

By the time the faintest blush of morning began to ghost over the horizon, he was already up, dressed, and slipping out of his chamber. His boots crunched softly over dew-soaked grass as he crossed the palace grounds toward the edge of the forest.

The trees stood tall and silent, the cabin just out of sight behind them. Jasper leaned against a large oak, arms crossed, every muscle taut with anticipation.

He told himself it was only to make sure she got away safely. But he knew better.

When Seraphina finally emerged from the shadows, cloaked and hooded, she jumped slightly at the sight of him.

"Gods, Jasper," she hissed, placing a hand over her chest. "You scared the breath out of me."

Jasper smirked, pushing off the tree. "I’ve always had a flair for dramatic entrances."

She narrowed her eyes, though the curve of her lips betrayed her amusement. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugged. "Figured I’d get one last look at you before you vanish like mist."

Seraphina raised a brow, stepping closer. "You’re terrible at goodbyes."

"I don’t remember saying this was a goodbye." His voice dropped lower. "Just... a pause."

Seraphina tilted her head, studying him. "That so?"

Jasper leaned in slightly, his voice laced with that half-cocky, half-vulnerable edge he reserved only for her. "Unless, of course, you’re planning to forget all about me the second your carriage rolls out of Arcadia."

"Oh, absolutely," she deadpanned. "The minute I cross the border, poof—who’s Jasper?"

He snorted. "Heartless."

She grinned, nudging him with her elbow. "Sentimental."

For a moment, neither of them said anything. The woods around them were still, the air thick with parting and the things they couldn’t afford to say out loud.

Jasper looked at her, really looked—memorizing the way the soft light touched her cheekbones, how her hair slipped loose from her hood, how she smiled like it was armor.

Then he sighed and gestured toward the trail behind them. "Come on. The carriages are already being prepped."

They moved in silence, ducking behind the trees until they reached the edge of the palace stables. The supply carts were nearly packed, the horses already tethered. A few sleepy maids and guards moved about, too preoccupied to notice the princess slipping past them like a shadow.

Jasper led her to the covered carriage at the far end—the one meant for supplies and lesser dignitaries.

"I still don’t like this," he muttered, lifting the flap for her.

Seraphina turned to him, her voice soft. "I’ll be fine. This is the safest way."

He hesitated. Then reached into his jacket and pulled out the rolled drawing she had left behind in the cabin. "You forgot this."

Her eyes softened. "I didn’t forget. I was hoping you’d bring it."

She reached for it, but he pulled it back at the last second. "One condition."

Seraphina arched a brow. "Oh?"

"You find a way to send me a letter. Something. Anything. Just so I know you didn’t fall off a cliff the moment you left."

She gave a mock gasp. "How dare you imply I’m not the picture of grace and survival?"

He grinned. "Swear it, princess."

"I swear." She took the drawing, tucking it carefully into her satchel. "But only if you stop calling me ’princess’ every damn time."

"No promises."

She rolled her eyes and then, without warning, leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Jasper."