Kiss the Stranger

I froze in place, utterly taken aback. Why was she here?

It was the first time I’d seen Princess Najima since that day. Of course I remembered her—would she remember me? My heart pounded as I looked up at her, and I couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.
How could someone be so beautiful?
Princess Najima was exactly as I remembered: her face flawless, her gait calm, her speech graceful—and every movement, even a fingertip’s flick, exuded dignity.

Compared to her, I felt utterly shabby.
As I inhaled her subtle, floral scent and felt my own inadequacy deepen, the princess spoke.
“Your name was Yohan, wasn’t it? You were the steward’s assistant, right?”

I blinked, gathering myself, and straightened. She was looking down at me—she remembered. A sharp ache tightened in my chest as I bowed my head and answered quietly.
“…Yes, Your Highness.”
She smiled and tilted her head.

“How is it, then? I heard the steward returned to America—why didn’t you go with him?”
Her genuine curiosity made me cautious as I explained.
“Th-The Crown Prince didn’t grant me permission to leave… so I’m waiting at court until the steward comes back…”
“I see.”

Najima looked genuinely sympathetic.
“To be held hostage like that.”
Her words stunned me into shaking my head.

“H-Hostage? That can’t be… It’s just that His Highness still hasn’t caught the assassin who tried to poison him… so they made an exception for everyone…”
The culprit remained at large—what if they never found him? My anxiety flared. I secretly wished he’d simply vanish forever…
“Oh, right. That happened.”

Najima murmured as if recalling something, then smiled.
“You must have forgotten. His Highness is so full of vigor.”
“A-And so he is…”

Hearing news of Qamar after so long squeezed my heart. I wanted to learn more, but also didn’t want to hear more. As I wavered, Najima’s brow furrowed slightly and she continued.
“You haven’t heard anything else, have you?”
Her unexpected question made me blink.

“I did hear about foreign guests arriving, and that His Highness is constructing a dam. Was there something else…?”
Najima studied me in silence. Was something wrong with Asgail? My pulse raced—and then she smiled.
“Oh, nothing. You don’t need to know. So—what brings you here? Do you have business?”

Her abrupt change of topic left me hesitating. I wanted to ask about the prince, but couldn’t. If the princess fell silent, I had no choice but to follow her lead. Hoping another chance would come, I spoke.
“Um, I—I have work to do… so I’ve been staying here while I finish it…”
“Work?”
At her words, she turned. I noticed the bedding piled in the corner—she paused, eyebrow raised. I hurried on.

“I’m… weaving. There’s a lot to do, so I sleep here to keep working…”
“What kind?”
“Huh?”

I hadn’t meant to repeat her question, but Najima fixed me with a look and asked,
“What kind of work? There’s only one thing done in a place like this.”
I pointed at the loom where I’d been weaving.

“I’m making this.”
Her gaze followed my finger—and froze. My heart hammered. This was, after all, a women’s workshop. Would she angrily order me out? Or think me something worse? Anxious, I awaited her reaction—and she spoke in a calm voice.
“So you’ve been weaving this, Yohan?”

“Y-Yes…”
I stammered, and Najima turned back to the loom. I watched her step closer, bow her head to inspect the half-finished tapestry. I swallowed, mouth dry, and held my breath.
‘She said how # Nоvеlight # impressed they all were by the embroidery…’

I recalled Zahara’s words, and Najima straightened and faced me. Startled, I looked up as she spoke.
“You really did this? All of it?”
Was she doubting me? Terrified, I whispered, “Yes,” and nodded. Najima’s eyes narrowed into slits—her cool gaze froze me. My back throbbed, fearing another whipping. I thought, This time I won’t survive…

Before I could go further, Najima said,
“Then can you do it right now? In front of me.”
“Huh?”

Her unexpected request made me blink. Najima smiled gently.
“Please.”
“…Y-Yes.”

Bewildered, I sat and followed her instructions. I grasped the threads and began weaving, my hands shaking. To my relief, muscle memory guided me in smooth motions. I worked wordlessly, and after a time Najima murmured above me.
“Oh my, it truly is you. And so fast, too.”
I paused and looked up—her smile had returned.

“I’m sorry I doubted you. It’s just that this is a women-only space; we worry about intruders with ill intent.”
“I-I wouldn’t…”
I tried to deny it, but she raised a hand to hush me. When I fell silent, Najima spoke kindly.

“I know you’d never harm us. Goodness, are you even eating? You look as though you might die tomorrow. Your arms are so thin—I could offer you to the medical school. They wouldn’t even need to dissect the skin to study your bones.”
I didn’t know how to respond and simply bowed my head. Najima asked again.
“But why are you doing this? Out of boredom?”

“Umm…”
My throat tightened. I couldn’t begin to explain why I’d started weaving for her—I’d been trying to find the prince’s would-be poisoner. I could never confess that. So I answered softly, “Yes.” Najima fell silent. I rubbed my cold, sweat-damp hands on my thigh, uneasy under her gaze. Then she suddenly proposed,
“What if you worked in my chambers?”

“Eh?”
Her words startled me. Najima looked down at me with a kindly smile.
“I get lonely working alone. It would be nice if you kept me company. What do you think?”

I had no reply and simply stared. She continued,
“I know it’s against the law for a man and woman to be alone in a room. But the nursemaid will be there, so don’t worry. Leave your work here and clear away your bedding. Come to my chambers after breakfast.”
Everything was happening so fast that I could only gape. But it didn’t end there—she added with a laugh,

“I’ll send people to escort you, so you should go now. Is that all right?”
“Y-Yes…”
I nodded before I realized it. She smiled and turned to leave—but stopped after a few steps and looked at another tapestry. She paused, then faced me.

“Did you make this one too?”
“Y-Yes.”
Najima moved her gaze to the opposite side of the room, frowning slightly. Suddenly she turned back to me.

“All these pieces are yours, aren’t they?”
“Y-Yes…”
My voice trembled, but she smiled and said,

“I thought so. But this one won’t do.”
“Huh?”
She pointed to the lower edge of a piece and drew a line, then critiqued several others in turn. Bewildered, I watched as she smiled and suggested,

“How about we discard all of these?”
“Discard them?”
My heart sank. I shook my head desperately.

“T-That’s impossible… some are nearly finished.”
“Is that so?”
Najima studied me, then smiled nonchalantly.

“Well, then I have no choice. I’ll see you tomorrow. Let’s have lunch together—I have so many questions about you.”
“M-Me?”
“Yes.”

Did she not know I was an omega? How could she make such an offer?
As soon as I was revealed to be an omega, people’s attitudes changed. But Princess Najima was completely unaffected—she even smiled at me like before. Was she truly unaware? Or simply showing royal mercy? I was curious but couldn’t ask. After one final word of encouragement, she left. I was still dazed as I remained alone in the workshop.