Miliani

"Who are you?" The words slipped out sharper than you intended, a flicker of alarm creeping into your tone.

All your life, it had been one of constant vigilance—surrounded by guards, attendants, and protocols. Even in the moments when you’d insisted on doing something yourself, there was always someone hovering nearby. And beyond the palace walls, you’d been taught to be wary of strangers, told that your position made you a target.

Luckily, they hadn’t clicked onto how you leave the Palace without anyone noticing just yet. And you hadn’t had a problem either, until now.

Yet, as you watched the man before you, your panic began to fade. He didn’t exude danger. Well, not in the way you’d been warned about.

The man glanced up from his seated position, his fingers adjusting the yellow-tinted goggles perched on his nose. He lowered the datapad in his lap, his gaze sweeping over as if analysing you. "I’m just exercising my mind," he said, his voice simple, almost disinterested. "I didn’t realise this spot was spoken for."

His nonchalance catches you off guard a touch but then you realised—he didn’t even recognise you or know who you were. What you are. There were no stiff formalities that made you feel awkward, no over-exaggerated bows. He just... existed. And so did you.

This was perfect. Kind of.

"I usually sit there," you replied, gesturing to where he was after you snap out of thoughts.

Your eyes began taking in his unusual appearance. His armour was unlike anything you’d seen before, and his features, though sharp, were somehow soft in the dappled light filtering through the leaves. His skin was speckled with sunlight, his wide eyes focused yet distant, as though his mind was always working, always calculating.

"I wasn’t planning on staying long," he said, his tone still casual, "but I can leave if you prefer."

A smile tugged at your lips, maybe some quiet company wouldn’t be too bad. "Actually, it's a warm day... I think I'll just sit over here, in the shade." You gestured to the other side of the tree.

He gave no response, simply returning to whatever task he had been doing before you arrived.

You watch him a moment more before you move round the large tree, resting on the ground with your legs spread outwards and your back perched comfortably against the bark.

For a moment, you listened for any movement from the man, but he remained quiet, absorbed in his own thoughts. With a soft sigh, you opened your book, allowing yourself to be drawn into its pages.

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As the hours passed, the golden light of the afternoon began to soften, and you decided it was time to head back. Closing your book, you rose to your feet, brushing the stray bits of grass and dirt from your dress.

You paused before leaving, glancing over at the man who hadn’t moved from his spot. He was still focused on his datapad, absorbed in whatever consumed him. For a moment, you debated whether to say goodbye. It felt odd—after all, you were little more than strangers who had shared barely a few words.

But something in his presence made you hesitate. Just as you were about to slip away, he lifted his head, meeting your gaze with a subtle nod. "I will be here tomorrow, too," he said, his voice steady but casual, before returning to his work.

His words caught you off guard, but not unpleasantly. There was an ease to his statement that felt more like an invitation than an expectation. You hadn’t planned on returning to the willow so soon—it was a retreat you visited only occasionally, once in a while when things got too much. But now, the thought of returning tomorrow seemed appealing.

"I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then," you replied, a quiet smile pulling at your lips.

As you walked back through the meadow, a sense of unease crept in. It was dangerous, speaking so casually with a stranger, especially someone who didn’t know who you really were. But the more you thought about it, the more you realised that perhaps, like you, he was just looking for a place to escape.

True to his word, he was there the next day, in the same spot, just as you arrived. It was oddly comforting to see him again.

"Hello again," you said softly as you approached, your book from the day before tucked under your arm.

He looked up from his datapad, and this time, there was the faintest hint of a smile on his face. It softened his otherwise serious demeanor. "I’m surprised you came."

Raising a brow, you took a small step closer, closer than you had been yesterday. "Why’s that?"

He paused, his expression thoughtful before he cleared his throat. "I didn’t expect you to, I suppose."

"Well, I see you're in my spot again," you teased lightly, the playful tone slipping easily into the air between you.

He responded with a deadpan expression. "I don’t believe this spot belongs to anyone, except perhaps the royalty who owns this land."

"And yet you’re trespassing," you countered with a grin.

"As are you," he said smoothly, his gaze steady on you. "It seems."

"Actually, this is my—" You cut yourself off abruptly, the words catching in your throat. You hadn’t meant to reveal your true identity, especially since he seemed blissfully unaware of it. The less he knew, the better.

His eyes narrowed slightly, as if sensing the sudden shift in your tone. "Continue," he said, his voice calm but edged with curiosity. He studied you, his gaze patient yet expectant.

You shifted on your feet, feeling the damp earth beneath your shoes. "I just... work at the palace," you said, trying to keep your voice casual. "I come here for a break sometimes."

He raised a brow, clearly not entirely convinced by your vague answer. "Are you allowed to do that?"

"Yep," you replied quickly, eager to change the subject. Without waiting for him to question you further, you gestured toward the space beside him. "May I sit?"

For a moment, he didn’t respond, simply watching you with that same unreadable expression. Then, with a slight nod, he shifted, making room for you under the tree.

As you settled beside him, the quiet between you felt oddly comfortable. But curiosity got the better of you. "So... what’s your name?" you asked, glancing at him.

He looked up from his datapad what appears to be glued to his hand, barely lifting his head. "Tech," he replied flatly, as if the answer was self-explanatory.

A small laugh escaped you, catching him off guard. "Tech? That’s your name?"

"Yes, that is correct," he said, not bothering to look up this time. "Why do you find that amusing?"

"I’ve just never heard a name like that before," you explained, smiling. "What’s the origin of it?"

He finally shifted his full attention to you, adjusting his goggles with one hand. "It’s not particularly unusual if you understand the context. I am a Clone, part of a genetically engineered unit created for the Republic.” He explains, knowledge rolling off his tongue.

“Each of us was given a designation based on our individual enhancements. Mine happens to be… technical aptitude. So to speak. Hence, Tech."

You blinked, trying to process the flood of information. "Wait—clone?"

"Yes," he said as if it was obvious. Surely you’ve heard of the Clone Wars?"

"I—" you started, but the words got tangled. "No, actually… I haven’t. I’m not sure I understand."

Tech paused, clearly surprised, though his expression remained neutral. "You haven’t heard of the Clone Wars? Or clones? That’s... highly unusual. We were a critical part of the galaxy’s military efforts for years. We were created on Kamino, a planet known for its advanced cloning technology. You must be familiar with Kamino at least."

"Kamino?" you repeated, frowning slightly. "No, that doesn’t sound familiar either." Slowly, you start to feel a creeping embarrassment as you suddenly feel stupid for not knowing something that clearly is a large part of the galaxy. Then again, you were taught about your own secluded planet only and its history. Not anywhere else.

Tech blinked behind his goggles, staring at you for a beat too long. "You’ve never heard of Kamino either?" His voice was tinged with disbelief, as though the concept was nearly impossible for him to fathom. He continued with a brief description with the importance of this ‘Kamino’ and if you didn’t feel stupid before, you did now.

Embarrassed, you shook your head. "No, I really haven’t heard of it."

"Interesting," he said, more to himself than to you. "You live in a remarkably isolated environment if you’ve never encountered such basic galactic knowledge." His gaze then sharpened, scanning you almost analytically. "Have you ever even left this planet?"

You hesitated, then shook your head sheepishly. "No. But... I’d like to. One day."

"Hmm," he muttered, as if filing away that piece of information. "That explains your lack of familiarity with broader galactic events. This planet is extremely remote, sparsely populated, and largely irrelevant to the major political structures in place."

Was he always so blunt? You felt a slight pang of defensiveness at the description of your homeworld but quickly pushed it aside. "So, what is it you do?"

“I am a Soldier.”

“How come you are here?" You probe with a smile, already assuming as much that he was a soldier of some kind.

"We’re on a diplomatic mission," Tech continued, in the same detached tone, not quite meeting your enthusiasm. "We’ve been tasked with upgrading security systems at the palace. The assignment begins in a week or so."

You stiffened at the mention of the palace, your mind racing. "The palace?" you echoed, trying to keep your voice steady. "You’ll be working there?"

"Yes," he confirmed, missing the tension in your voice. "We’re to conduct a thorough analysis and enhancement of their current security protocols. Apparently, there’s a concern regarding the safety of someone of importance residing there."

Your heart skipped a beat, hands feeling a little clammy. "Have you—uh, you know— researched the royal family?"

"There isn’t much information available," he replied, adjusting his goggles again as he shows you information in his datapad. "And as I stated before, this placed is sparsely populated—fewer than a few hundred inhabitants, by my estimates. It’s not significant enough to warrant much attention in the galactic records. The royalty here is of little interest beyond local matters."

Relief and anxiety swirled inside you in equal measure. For now, it seemed your identity was still safe. "I see."

Tech glanced at you again, his gaze lingering in a way that made you feel slightly exposed. "You still haven’t told me your name," he pointed out, almost as if it were a loose end he needed to tie up.

You froze for a second, then quickly recovered, forcing a smile. "Willow," you said, the lie slipping out before you could second-guess it.

"Willow," he repeated, tilting his head slightly. "That’s an uncommon name. Does it have any particular significance?"

"It’s... just a name," you replied, keeping your tone light.

"Fascinating," he muttered, though whether he was genuinely intrigued or simply acknowledging the information, you couldn’t tell. “Also fitting.”

The conversation drifted on, with Tech providing details about his work, his unit, and the missions they’d carried out. You laughed at moments that he didn’t realise were quite amusing but you had clearly relaxed him enough to allow him to open up. And he talked… a lot. It was quite cute.

As the sky deepened into evening, you realised how much time had passed. "I should probably get going," you said, standing up and brushing off your dress. "I’ve enjoyed talking with you."

Tech glanced up, and for a brief moment, there was a flicker of something like hesitation in his eyes. "Will you be here again tomorrow?"

His question caught both of you by surprise, and his expression shifted slightly, as if he was recalibrating his own boldness.

You hesitated, then smiled softly. "We’ll see," you replied, knowing full well that you would be.

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And you did go see him.

That day, the next day, and the day after.

Each time, you found yourself more drawn to the odd charm of the man who barely glanced your way but still seemed to notice everything.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself each time you visited. You had noticed (that although his focus rarely strayed from his datapad) the subtle shift in the air whenever you appeared—the way his posture changed, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly as if he had been waiting for you. It was a good feeling.

Sitting beside him had become your routine, almost like breathing and the book you brought along served more as a prop than something to read. Your attention was inevitably pulled towards Tech and whatever he was tinkering with.

Truthfully, You were completely enamored by him. His mannerisms, the unintentional gentleness in his hands when he handled something delicate, and the way he occasionally muttered to himself, lost in his own thoughts.

Though the times he’d briefly look up, his eyes were soft with a look that felt almost... affectionate.

You didn’t want to overthink his gaze, but it gave you butterflies every time.

This day was no different. You’d settled in next to him, your book open on your lap. After several minutes of peaceful silence, your curiosity perks. You leaned slightly closer, peering at the array of circuits and small mechanical pieces strewn around him. “What are you working on today?”

Of course, he didn’t look up, but his tone warmed a fraction as he replied. “A calibrator. These,” he then gestured to the smaller parts in front of him, “are relays that modulate signal strength. It’s critical that they are adjusted to the correct tolerances—any deviation would result in unstable transmissions, or worse, complete signal loss.”

You blinked, absorbing what you could of the information, though most of it flew over your head. The palace didn’t hold such instruments and so everything he told you was brand new. “Doesn’t seem like it would fit with anything we use here,” you say.

“It doesn’t. This is from a planet called Ord Mantell. I happened upon it during a mission and kept it for study. I often collect such artifacts if they’re of unique construction.” He reached into one of his pouches of his beltand pulled out another small item—a hexagonal metal device with an intricate pattern carved into it. “For example, this is a fragment of a data chip from Naboo. It’s outdated, obsolete even, but I’m fascinated by its design and the potential for historical data retrieval.”

You stared at it, the weight of his words sinking in. He’d seen so many places you could only dream of, held pieces of those planets, moons and stars in his hands.

You smile gently, watching him with a mixture of awe and fondness as he spoke.

It did strike you how much he wanted to share all of this with you, how patient he was with his explanations, even if he sometimes forgot to ask if you understood. There was something grounding about his presence, something that made you want to listen, to learn.

Lost in thought, you didn’t realise how long you’d been staring until he glanced over, brows furrowing slightly behind his goggles. “I have a question,” he said suddenly, snapping you out of your reverie.

You blinked, then nodded eagerly. “Go ahead.”

“I’ve observed that you’ve been on the same page of your book for the past four consecutive days,” he noted bluntly. “Is there a reason for this behaviour, or have you simply found something within the text that holds your interest?”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, embarrassment flaring up as you glanced down at the page in question. It was a silly romance novel, and you hadn’t even realised you hadn’t turned the page once. “I—um, no,” you stammered, looking away. “It’s just... hard to focus on the story when I’m with you, I guess.”

Tech blinked, clearly taken aback. He tilted his head, studying you with the same clinical curiosity he reserved for complicated puzzles. “You... read the same page repeatedly so you can spend time here?”

Swallowing your nerves, you nodded, your fingers brushing over the edges of the book. “It gives me a reason to be here and see you.” Your voice was small, the admission much braver than you felt. “Otherwise, I’m not sure if I’d have the courage.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again, clearly processing. “You don’t need to bring a book if your primary intention is to converse with me,” he said after a pause, his tone as blunt and matter-of-fact as ever. “I don’t mind your presence. In fact, I’ve grown accustomed to it.”

A soft laugh escaped you, the corners of your mouth lifting. “You’re really something, you know that?”

He frowned, seeming unsure of how to interpret your reaction. “Is that meant to be complimentary?”

“Absolutely,” you said, smiling. “I like being here with you. I like talking with you, you make me feel normal.”

“Do you often not feel normal?”

You pause but quietly shake your head, “Not usually.”

Silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken thoughts and a hint of something unnameable. For the first time, you found him staring at you, his gaze lingering as if trying to read you, to decode something unfamiliar. The air felt warmer, more intimate somehow, and you couldn’t help but notice how much closer you were than when you’d first sat down.

Tech cleared his throat abruptly, breaking the moment. “You’ve mentioned you enjoy our discussions,” he began, his voice a touch quieter. “But I still know very little about you. Your name, for instance—‘Willow.’ It doesn’t seem to align with any of the traditional names or designations I’ve encountered in my data banks.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, the question you’d been dreading surfacing at last. “Like I said, it is just a name,” you murmured, guilt gnawing at you. He still didn’t know the truth, the title you carried, or your real name. And with each passing day, the prospect of him finding out grew more daunting.

“Tech,” you started, then hesitated. You needed to tell him. Before everything got too complicated. “There’s something you should know.”

“Yes?”

The words caught in your throat, your resolve faltering the longer you looked at him. The words are on the tip of your tongue but they don’t leave. Instead, your mind completely diverts and you blurt out the next unexpected and unexplainable statement:

“I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

His eyes widened, genuine surprise flashing across his face as he dropped the gadget in his hand. It clattered to the ground, the sound startling both of you. “Ah—neither have I,” he admitted, clearing his throat as he picks it back up and dusting off the dirt. “It’s not something I’ve had much opportunity to… experiment with.”

You both sat there, frozen in the tension of the moment. You felt your pulse hammering, the soft breeze in the air suddenly chilling.

Supposedly, the thought of kissing him had slipped into your mind at some point. It was so innocent, so impossibly daring. But the moment felt right. And never had you been so certain of anything.

“Maybe…” you ventured softly, almost shyly. “Maybe we could try it together?”

For the first time, you saw Tech falter, a faint heat warming his cheeks. He blinked rapidly, as if recalibrating. “You want me to—?”

“If you’d like to,” you murmured, eyes flickering from his lips to his astonished gaze, “only if you want.”

He lets go of the gadget again, his hand reaching out tentatively, brushing against your cheek in the softest of touches and then down to your shoulder.

You held your breath as he leaned closer, his expression still unreadable but his gaze locked onto yours. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he closed the distance, lips hovering a fraction of an inch from yours before finally, gently, he kissed you.

The moment was brief, delicate and tentative, as if testing the waters. When he pulled back, his eyes were wide behind his goggles, his fingers still ghosting against your skin.

“That was… different,” he murmured, his voice almost breathless.

You couldn’t help but smile, “Different in a good way?”

Tech’s lips twitched, a faint smile forming as he nodded. “Yes, in a good way. Very much so.”

You watch as he lingered for a moment, his gaze unwavering, still clearly processing what had just happened. His lips parted slightly, as if tasting the memory of your touch before he finally spoke. “I believe I would… like to do that again.”

Your heart fluttered, warmth flooding your chest. Without another word, you leaned closer, letting your eyes flutter shut as you pressed your lips to his once more. This time, the kiss was different—bolder, more sure. Tech’s hands, trembling ever so slightly, slid down from your shoulders to rest at your waist. His touch was cautious but steady, pulling you closer, encouraging you to deepen the kiss.

You responded eagerly, feeling yourself melt into him, losing yourself. His lips, surprisingly soft and gentle, moved in time with yours, and his breath hitched when your fingers traced the lines of his jaw. There was a sweetness to his inexperience, a hesitancy that made your heart swell. It felt innocent, pure, and you couldn’t help but be drawn in even more by the way his hands tightened slightly at your waist, anchoring you to him beneath the willow’s cascading branches.

The world seemed to fade away, the only sound the soft rustling of leaves and the quiet, shared breaths between the two of you. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, and a soft gasp escaped you as the intensity grew. There was something impossibly addictive about the way he kissed you—clumsy yet deliberate.

But then, the guilt struck.

Like a sudden, icy wave, the reality of it all crashed over you. You were lying to him—deceiving him with a false name and a false identity, all while he kissed you so earnestly, so honestly. He didn’t know who you truly were, didn’t know that the girl he thought was just a mere palace worker was actually the princess of this very land.

You broke away, breathless and shaken, your heart thudding loudly in your chest. “I— I’m sorry,” you stammered, forcing yourself to pull back from his embrace, ignoring the bewildered look that flashed across his face. “I— I have to go.”

“Go?” he echoed, brows drawing together in confusion. “But—”

“I just remembered, I have… something to attend to.” The excuse tumbled from your lips as you stood, weak and unconvincing even to your own ears, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him properly. Couldn’t bear to see the confusion, the hurt that might start to form as he tried to piece together why you were suddenly pulling away.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice slow, as if trying to make sense of the sudden change. “I had presumed you were comfortable.”

“I was. I mean, I am!” You stumbled over your words, taking a step back and placing a shaky hand against your forehead. “But I just— I need some time to think.”

Tech tilted his head, eyes narrowing in that analytical way of his. “Have I misstepped?” he asked, his voice carefully neutral, but the underlying uncertainty made your chest tighten. “If I have done something to make you uncomfortable, you need only inform me, and I shall correct it.”

“No, no, it’s not you,” you interrupted hastily, guilt twisting deeper inside you. “You’ve been… perfect, Tech. Really. It’s just… me.”

As you go to retreat, his voice stops you one more time: “Wait.”

You froze mid-step, eyes widening as he suddenly pushed himself to his feet. The abrupt movement caught you off guard as he had never once stood up when you were around, always preferring to remain seated.

Now, seeing him like this—standing, back straight and shoulders squared—you truly took in the stranger you’d been growing so fond of these past few days.

He was tall, no denying that. noticed was his height as he towered over you, lean and built in a way that spoke of quiet strength. “Are you,” His brow furrowed, mouth twisting into a slight frown as he searched for the right words. “Are you going to return later? Or perhaps… tomorrow?”

You blinked up at him, still processing the sight of him standing there “I…” You hesitated, the lie teetering on your lips, but it felt almost impossible to say it now, not when he was looking at you with those clear, curious eyes. “I don’t know,” you admitted quietly.

A flicker of confusion passed over his face, and his head tilted ever so slightly. “Why not?” he asked, straightforward as ever, without any hint of reproach or accusation—just a genuine desire to understand. “Have I done something wrong? If there was an error in my conduct—”

“No, Tech,” you interjected, shaking your head vigorously. “It’s not that. It’s not you.” You repeat. “I’ve just—” Your voice faltered as you struggled to find the right words.

You looked up at him again, properly taking in every detail of his face. The way his lips were slightly parted in thought, the sharp line of his jaw, the soft brown of his eyes, which were surprisingly gentle despite their constant, calculating focus.

“I’ve just been dishonest,” you finally confessed, the words spilling out before you could stop them. His brows furrowed further, confusion deepening.

“Dishonest?” he echoed, voice almost clipped, like he was analysing the word itself. “In what capacity?”

Your heart ached. There was no way you could tell him the full truth—not now, not after everything. “I… I can’t really explain right now.” You took a shaky breath, feeling the familiar pressure of tears pricking at your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

For the first time, a flash of something like concern crossed his features, and he took a tentative step closer, his gloved hand lifting as if to reach out to you but then faltering, dropping back to his side. “Then when will you be able to explain?” he asked softly. “I would like to understand.”

His sincerity made your chest tighten painfully. You bit your lip, willing yourself to keep it together. “I don’t know,” you whispered. “But I— I have to go.”

You turned away before he could respond, afraid of what you might see if you looked back—afraid of the confusion, the hurt, or worse, the acceptance that you were walking away from him for good.

But you hadn’t even taken two steps when his voice called out again, halting you in your tracks. “You will return, correct?”

It wasn’t really a question, more like a statement of fact, as if he couldn’t conceive of an outcome where you wouldn’t. He stood there, looking almost vulnerable in his rigid stance, the datapad long forgotten at his feet.

Your mouth opened and closed, the lie so easy, so simple, yet your heart rebelled against it. “Yes,” you breathed out, hating yourself for it. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The words were a bitter promise on your tongue, and you forced yourself to keep moving before you could take them back. You didn’t dare look back, even as you felt the weight of his gaze lingering on you.

Tech stayed where he was, feet firmly planted on the ground as he processed your departure. But he didn’t call after you again. Instead, he remained still, watching you leave, the ghost of your warm kiss still lingering on his lips.

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“Are you feeling well, Your Majesty? You have been awfully quiet this morning.”

The voice of your handmaiden gently pulled you from your wandering thoughts. You gasped softly as she tightened your corset, the constricting garment pulling you uncomfortably upright. “I’m fine, just a little queasy, is all,” you replied half-heartedly.

In the mirror, you caught her frown, concern evident as your eyes met. “Would you like me to fetch the Royal Doctor?”

“No, no,” you answered quickly with a short, forced laugh. “That won’t be necessary. I am fine.” But truthfully, you were anything but fine.

For days, you had avoided seeing Tech, despite telling him you would. Guilt gnawed at you, eating away at every moment you spent replaying your last encounter. Kissing him and running away without an explanation had been cowardly, and you knew it. But you couldn’t face him—couldn’t face the confusion or possible disappointment that would come after your revelation.

Everything with Tech was new, unfamiliar but exciting. He made you feel things you never had before, things that made you want to escape from the world you’d always known. But you lied, and now the consequences of that deception were about to catch up to you.

The clones were coming. The same group Tech had mentioned, sent to assess the palace’s security. You had been informed by your advisors the night before at dinner that almost had you choking on your desert

How would he react? What would you even say to him? You’d barely slept, tossing and turning in the night, your thoughts spinning uncontrollably. To which, another handmaiden had discreetly suggested extra concealer that morning, noting the dark circles under your eyes.

You sighed softly as you clipped in a pair of jewel-encrusted earrings, slipping on an array of rings that glinted in the sunlight streaming through the curtains. Your fingers lightly touched your painted lips, the memory of his kiss still lingering.

The gown you wore was one of your more extravagant ones, designed to impress and restrict your breathing and you adorn a tiara to your head, setting it straight with slightly shaken hands.

“Have you been in the gardens lately, ma’am?” your handmaiden asked as she picked up one of your simpler dresses, the one you had worn during your secret outings. The fabric was stained with grass and dirt.

“Oh… yes, I apologise,” you muttered, glancing at the dress. “It might be tough to get that out.”

Your handmaiden, thankfully, said nothing more, simply nodding and continuing with her work. But your thoughts remained tangled. You had been careless.

Before you knew it, the time had come. Tech and his squad were arriving soon, and you were expected to greet them. Your heart pounded in your chest as you descended the grand staircase, each step feeling heavier than the last. Your gaze remained firmly planted on the polished marble floor, unwilling to look up.

The squad had already arrived by the time you reached the grand hall. They were being formally greeted by the palace guards and your advisors, who stood in a stiff line, watching the group with hawkish eyes. Your steps faltered, but you pressed on, shoulders square, as one of your advisors stepped forward and introduced you to them.

“Her Royal Highness, the Princess Royal,” your advisor’s voice rang out, the weight of your title hanging in the air as they spoke your name.

Finally, you lifted your gaze, and your eyes locked immediately with Tech’s.

He stiffened, almost dropping his helmet that he had tucked under his arm. His usually calculating expression narrows into something unreadable. His intense gaze bore into you, unblinking, analysing. He looked… almost surprised, but the emotion flickered so quickly across his face you couldn’t be sure.

“This is interesting,” Tech said aloud and to your advisors and guards, out of turn.

Hunter gave Tech a sharp look, clearly catching the undercurrent in his tone. But it wasn’t just Hunter’s attention that had been caught—your advisors were staring at you now, suspicion quickly creeping into their eyes. “What do you mean by that?” one of them demanded, their voice tight with irritation.

You could feel the panic rising in your chest, your pulse quickening as words become stuck in your throat. Your advisors were already displeased, and now Tech’s cryptic statement had put you directly in the spotlight. You swallowed hard as all eyes turned to you.

“We’ve met before,” Tech said plainly before you could come up with a lie, a bad habit you find yourself repeating.

A ripple of surprise passed through the gathered group, as well as an odd glance between the rest of his squad between one another.

Your advisors exchanged sharp, incredulous looks. “You’ve… met before?” one of them asked, their tone laced with disapproval as they now look to you. “Where?”

“By the Willow Tree,” you admitted quietly. It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room as you said it as steam almost blew out of their ears.

“What were you doing there?” another advisor snapped, their gaze narrowing with judgment. “Meeting with strangers outside the palace grounds? You could have put yourself in danger!”

The blame was quick, sharp, and unyielding, and you shrank beneath the weight of their accusations.

But before things could escalate further, Hunter stepped forward, raising a hand. “We weren’t aware that Tech had already met the Princess,” he said evenly, his voice calm and authoritative as he looks to you with a kind gaze and then to the ones reprimanding you, “But there was no harm intended. I can assure you of that.”

His words seemed to take some of the heat out of the situation, but the tension still lingered. Time stretched on, and as much as you wanted to say something, anything, to diffuse the situation further, you couldn’t bring yourself to speak.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you managed to murmur, “Excuse me,” before turning and walking away, the pressure of the room suffocating.

And as you moved swiftly down the palace corridors toward the library, you risked a glance back at the clones. Your heart stops when you spot that his gaze was the only one that lingered. Your eyes silently pleaded with him for understanding, for forgiveness. But he turned away, leaving you alone with the ache of unspoken words. It was going to be a long, unbearable day.

Hours passed, the sun slowly going down, and yet you could not shake the need to speak with him. There had been moments, small chances when you crossed paths in the palace, but each time either your royal duties or his own tasks pulled you apart. Once, you almost approached him in the hallway, but one of your advisors immediately demanded your attention. Another time, Tech had been speaking with Hunter, and just as you gathered the courage to interrupt, Crosshair called him away.

It wasn’t until evening, as the clones prepared to head back to their ship, that you finally found your opportunity.

You were on your balcony, watching as the squad began walking towards the landing pad, their silhouettes growing smaller in the fading twilight. And then, without thinking, you called out his name. "Tech!"

Wrecker and Crosshair turned first, exchanging amused glances. Crosshair smirked. "Looks like you’ve got company, Tech."

Wrecker chuckled deeply. "Don’t keep her waiting!" he boomed, nudging Tech forward.

Hunter gave Tech a pointed look. "Don’t be long."

Tech blinked, adjusting his goggles, as though processing the sudden turn of events. He glanced up at your balcony, then back at his brothers. "How am I supposed to get back inside after the guards have secured the palace?" he asked.

Crosshair rolled his eyes, while Wrecker stifled another laugh. "I’m sure you’ll figure it out," Hunter said, his tone suggesting there was no real problem to be solved.

Tech looked up again, spotting a set of vines climbing up the side of the palace wall. You saw him eye them thoughtfully before he gave a small nod to himself. In one smooth motion, he started climbing.

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. Heat rose to your cheeks as you watched him ascend, the scene very familiar from the pages of a romance novel you had read far too many times. By the time he reached your balcony, your face was flushed, and your heart was racing.

When he finally stood in front of you, his expression was as composed as ever, though there was a hint of curiosity in his eyes. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Your words tangled in your throat, your heart pounding as you tried to find the right thing to say whilst twiddling your thumbs

Tech however broke the silence. "Should I bow or kneel before you, now that I know who you are?" he asked, his tone serious but laced with dry humour.

The question took you by surprise, and before you could stop yourself, you let out a soft laugh, rolling your eyes. "I feel that if you knew who I was before, you wouldn’t do that anyway.”

Tech adjusted his goggles again, his head tilting slightly as he considered your response. "You may be right."

You smiled, though the weight of your earlier deceit still lingered between you. "Tech, I’m sorry for lying," you began, turning toward the edge of the balcony and leaning against the railing. You stared out at the sprawling palace gardens in bloom. "I didn’t mean to deceive you."

He stood beside you, hands clasped behind his back, his gaze analytical as ever. "I’m uncertain why you felt the need to lie in the first place."

You sighed, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the stone railing. "At first, I didn’t. It just happened. When I saw that you didn’t recognise me, it felt… perfect. For once, I didn’t have to hide behind a title or a mask. I could just be myself."

Tech was silent for a moment, processing your words. His eyes drifted over the gardens before returning to you. "I see. You valued anonymity."

You nodded, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. "It was freeing, in a way. But now… I feel like I’ve ruined everything by not telling you sooner."

He adjusted his goggles again, a familiar gesture you had come to associate with his thoughtfulness. "I don’t believe the delay in revealing your identity changes the nature of our interactions. You were still ‘yourself,’ as you put it, regardless of what title you carry."

You turn to him, surprised by the ease with which he accepted your explanation. There was no judgment in his tone, no reproach—just the simple, matter-of-fact logic that was so quintessentially him.

"I appreciate that, Tech," you said softly, feeling the tension in your chest begin to ease. But there was still a heaviness lingering. "It’s just that… with you heading back to your ship and what we…” you trailed off, unsure whether or not to address the kiss you both shared but after weighing it up, you decided not to. For now. “Well, I will miss the company. Greatly.”

"I see no reason why we cannot continue conversing, if that is what you desire. Your title changes nothing in that regard." He states, stepping closer to you.

You smile but it’s weak. To him, it was all so straightforward. But to you, it was far more complicated.

"Maybe," you murmured, though a part of you knew that your advisors would be very much against you keeping contact with him; and it’s not like you had a commlink at hand either.

You stood there for a long while in silence, watching the last of the evening light fade from the sky. It was peaceful, but at the same time, you could feel something unspoken hanging in the air between you.

“Can I ask you a question?” Tech’s voice broke the stillness.

You turned to him, nodding. “Of course.”

“Why do you allow your advisors to speak to you that way?” he asked, his brow furrowing slightly behind his goggles. “They are not exactly the friendliest people I have come across. I thought you would have more authority being royal.”

His words hit you like a stone in the chest. He was right—completely right. You had never really thought about it before, not in such blunt terms, anyway.

It was just the way things were, the way you had been raised. You had no family to lean on, nobody close to guide you through the tasks of royal duties. All you had were your advisors, and over time, they had come to control much of your life. You didn’t feel like royalty; you felt more like a figurehead, a pawn they could move as they pleased.

Your silence was enough of an answer for him. Tech’s gaze softened slightly as he realised he may have hit a nerve. “I apologise if I’ve upset you,” he said, his voice quieter.

You shrugged, brushing it off with a small smile. “It’s fine, you’re right. I don’t know why I let them.” The admission felt heavier than you expected, like a truth you had been avoiding for too long.

Tech didn’t push further. He simply nodded, and for a moment, you were grateful for his straightforwardness. He wasn’t the type to overanalyse emotions or linger on feelings. He just saw things as they were, with clarity and logic.

For a while, the two of you spoke about lighter things—small talk about the palace, the gardens, and the clones' mission. But as the conversation meandered, you both became aware that time was slipping away.

“I should be going,” Tech finally said, glancing down at his wrist device. “I have some tasks to complete before we leave tomorrow.”

Your chest tightened at the thought of him leaving. You tried to hide it, forcing yourself to smile as though it didn’t bother you. But before he could turn to leave, you reached out, your hand finding his. The gesture was sudden, and you felt a wave of heat rush to your face. His skin was warm beneath your touch, and you could see the brief flash of surprise in his eyes as he looked down at your intertwined hands.

“Thank you,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “For the time we shared by the willow tree… for everything.”

Tech blinked, clearly flustered by the contact. He opened his mouth to respond but quickly fell into one of his usual rambling explanations. “Well, it wasn’t entirely a planned event, but I suppose I could say it was… pleasant, or at least an efficient use of—”

You smiled and gently pulled him toward you, cutting off his words with a kiss. It was softer than before, but deeper, more certain. His hands instinctively moved to your waist, holding you close, and for a moment, neither of you wanted to pull away.

When you finally did, your breath was shaky, but your resolve had never been stronger. You looked up at him, your eyes searching his as a wave of determination washed over you. “Take me with you,” you whispered.

Tech blinked, visibly caught off guard. “Take you with me? To the ship?”

“To the stars,” you corrected, your voice filled with a yearning you had never felt so deeply before. “I want to see them. With you.”

He frowned, clearly uncertain. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Your advisors—”

“I don’t care about them,” you said firmly, stepping closer. “I just want to go. For once in my life, I want to see what’s out there. And I trust you.”

Tech hesitated, his mind undoubtedly running through all the potential consequences. But there was something in your eyes, something raw and sincere, that seemed to sway him. His grip on your waist tightened slightly, his expression softening as he looked at you.

“If you’re certain,” he smiles.

“I’ve never been more certain of anything,”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼　 ҉ ✼

Reblog to support writers and artists 💛

♔ Part One Tech - By the Willow

♔ Part Two Crosshair - Stranger, Saviour (WIP)

♔ Part Three Echo - When Stars Collide (WIP)

♔ Part Four Fives - Masquerade (WIP)

♔ Part Five Hunter - Sparks of Nobility (WIP)

♔ Part Six Wrecker - Speeding Into Love (WIP)

♔ More Clones to Follow…