Shackled To The Enemy King

Maximilian leaned closer.

Catherine’s eyes drifted shut before his lips found hers once more.

The kiss was deeper this time, lingering with all the longing of two people who had searched for one another across lifetimes. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, drawing him as close as she dared, while his hands slipped beneath the hem of her shirt, coming to rest against the warmth of her bare waist.

They did not wander at first. They simply remained there, his palms trembling ever so slightly, as though he needed the reassurance that she was real—that she was warm, alive, and no longer slipping away from him.

Every gentle touch seemed to ask the same silent question.

You’re truly here... aren’t you?

"Princeps mi... gratias tibi ago quod ad me rediisti," Catherine whispered between kisses.

[My prince... thank you for coming back to me.]

She had missed him.

Missed him every moment these past weeks.

So she surrendered to the embrace just as willingly, kissing him back with the same yearning she saw in his eyes. She knew his body was still far too weak to endure much, yet she couldn’t bring herself to stop him. This was something they had both been denied for far too long.

A quiet thought crossed her mind.

If only...

If she had remembered everything the day they first met in this lifetime...

How different would everything have been?

Instead of opening her eyes and attacking him with a fruit knife while shouting in Latin...

She almost laughed through her tears. How ironic.

She had awakened remembering the past and greeted him with violence.

He had awakened remembering only their past life... and greeted her with nothing but love.

She imagined that first meeting all over again, had she remembered everything.

He would have approached her with the bouquet he had awkwardly brought. He would have spoken to her in Latin. He would have looked just as bewildered as he did now, unable to understand how she could be alive again, unable to stop himself from reaching out simply to feel her.

Just to know she existed.

Just to know she hadn’t vanished into the flames forever.

Her heart overflowed.

At last, his breathing became uneven.

She reluctantly ended the kiss and rested a hand against his chest.

"Cave."

[Careful.]

He looked almost disappointed, but he allowed her to guide him back against the raised pillow.

The moment she tried to move away, his fingers found hers.

He refused to let go.

Laughing softly, Catherine settled beside him instead, leaning comfortably against his shoulder while their hands remained intertwined.

And so they talked.

About the palace gardens.

About sneaking away from their tutors.

About arguments that now seemed wonderfully childish.

About memories only the two of them still possessed.

Sometimes they laughed.

Sometimes silence settled between them, broken only by another lingering kiss when Maximilian felt strong enough to steal one.

Hours seemed to disappear.

When he insisted on walking to the bathroom himself, she quietly accompanied him.

When the nurses brought him soup, she sat beside him, smiling as he ate with the effortless grace of a king.

He couldn’t recognize the glowing numbers on the monitors surrounding his bed. He didn’t understand a single English word.

Yet his Latin remained flawless.

His posture...His manners... Even the careful precision of his movements seemed untouched by the weeks he had spent unconscious.

For someone who had only just awakened from a coma, his coordination was astonishing.

It made Catherine wonder.

Was their past life engraved somewhere deeper than memory? Was it written into the soul itself?

The doctors returned later to examine him.

Catherine stepped aside, watching with barely concealed amusement.

She recognized the look in Maximilian’s eyes immediately.

If swords still existed in this room, he would already have challenged every physician present simply for daring to touch him.

Instead, he endured the examination with visible restraint. Only... Whenever his gaze drifted back to Catherine, she noticed his shoulders relax. The tension slowly left his body. Even the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat on the monitor settled into a calm, steady pace.

It was as though merely seeing her reminded him that, whatever strange world he had awakened into... He was no longer alone.

And he truly wasn’t.

The sun slowly dipped below the horizon as Catherine introduced Maximilian to the strange little objects that filled this era. She showed him her mobile phone first, then the laptop. Every new screen, every image, every moving picture held his attention with childlike fascination.

Watching those awe-filled eyes made something warm bloom inside her chest.

He frowned at people walking about in revealing clothes, openly holding hands in public, and strangers speaking so casually to nobles—or at least, to people who looked important.

"Tam neglegenter vestiuntur...," he murmured.

[They dress so carelessly.]

Catherine laughed.

He looked at her, confused for only a moment, before the corners of his lips lifted as well. He did not understand what amused her, but hearing her laugh made him laugh too.

As the hours passed, Catherine slowly realized something she had never expected.

She had always believed the gentle man Maximilian became belonged to this lifetime—that modern education, modern values, and thirty years of living in this world had taught him to respect her opinions, encourage her ambitions, and treat her as his equal.

She had been wrong.

This man remembered nothing of this life.

Yet he still listened whenever she spoke. He still asked what she thought before making decisions. He still praised her intelligence without feeling threatened by it. He still looked at her as though she was someone standing beside him—not behind him.

He was no longer the stubborn prince who had constantly argued with her during their engagement.

Nor was he merely the king who had commanded armies in an age where women possessed so few rights.

He was simply... a man who loved her.

Her heart overflowed.

"Te amo..."

Her voice was barely above a whisper.

[I love you.]

There was no surprise in his eyes. No hesitation. He smiled, rested his forehead gently against hers, and answered in the same quiet certainty.

"Te amo."

Those two words settled into Catherine’s heart more deeply than any confession ever could. Not because they were new, but because, even stripped of thirty years of memories, he still loved her exactly the same.

Not long afterward, exhaustion finally claimed him.

His breathing deepened, his grip around her loosened just enough for sleep to overtake him. Catherine carefully shifted, intending to move to the visitor’s bed beside his. Before she could rise, his arm instinctively tightened around her waist.

Even asleep... he refused to let her go.

The nurse standing near the door gave her a disapproving look.

Catherine pretended not to notice.

Instead, she reached into the bedside drawer and took out the bracelet—the Alexandrite glimmering softly beneath the dim hospital lights. She wrapped her fingers around it and rested it gently against his chest.

Whatever miracle... Whatever curse... Whatever impossible force had returned him to her...

She was grateful for it.

"Just return him to me whole," she whispered.

She could teach him this world again. She could teach him English, technology, even how to use a spoon if she had to.

None of that frightened her.

What saddened her was knowing he no longer remembered the beautiful life he had built here.

The students who admired him... The quiet mornings they had shared... The countless ordinary memories that had become extraordinary simply because they belonged to them.

Part of her was relieved he no longer remembered the pain she had caused him in this lifetime.

But those precious moments... She did not want those to disappear forever.

Eventually, sleep overtook her as well.

The moment Catherine’s breathing settled into a slow, even rhythm, Maximilian quietly opened his eyes.

He carefully pulled the blanket higher over her shoulders before brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face.

Then he simply watched her.

He understood. He did not understand the strange devices, the glowing screens... or this bewildering future.

But he understood her.

He knew she was smiling for his sake. He knew she mourned the man who had lived these past thirty years.

She wanted him to remember.

He saw it every time her eyes lingered on him after telling another story from this life.

A professor?

He had become a teacher?

He almost scoffed.

Of all things, he had spent his life lecturing children about history instead of making it.

Then she spoke of stock markets, corporations, and businesses powerful enough to rival kingdoms.

His brows furrowed.

And where were the armies?

Who defended these lands?

How could a nation survive without warriors?

Why wasn’t he a warrior?

Nothing in this era made sense.

His gaze drifted downward.

The bracelet... The Alexandrite resting against his chest shimmered faintly in the darkness.

He lifted it into his hand.

The stone caught the moonlight... and for the briefest instant, its violet glow seemed almost alive.

Still staring at it, Maximilian slowly closed his eyes once more.

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