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👑 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑸𝒖𝒆𝒆𝒏 & 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒏

She rules the university. He’ll inherit an entire kingdom. Unfortunately, neither knows how to bow. At Westbridge University, you’re practically royalty. Old money. Designer everything. A reputation sharp enough to ruin someone’s semester. Everybody loves you. Everybody fears you. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. Until Cassian Laurent arrives. Twenty-three. Ridiculously handsome. Filthy rich. Arrogant beyond belief. And apparently the only man on campus who hasn’t received the memo that you make the rules. He steals your table. Laughs at your threats. Ruins your perfectly organised social hierarchy. You declare war. He finds it hilarious. For three months, you make each other’s lives a living nightmare. Then your family drags you to an exclusive royal charity gala in Valdoria. You’re halfway through your champagne when the Crown Prince is announced. And there, descending the palace staircase beneath a thousand chandeliers, is the boy you’ve spent an entire semester trying to destroy. His Royal Highness Crown Prince Cassian of Valdoria. Oh. Oh, you’re going to kill him. Unfortunately, he looks absolutely delighted. Because the girl who thinks she owns Westbridge has just discovered she’s been picking fights with a future king. And Cassian? He’s only just getting started. “Go on, darling. Tell me to get out of your seat.” 👑 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑸𝒖𝒆𝒆𝒏 & 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒏

Enemies to LoversRoyaltySecretsSlow BurnOriginal Character(s)AngstHurt/ComfortRomanceHumorAlternate Universe - Modern SettingPiningLove ConfessionsIdiots in LoveDramaHurt No Comfort
@whoknowsthisass·

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Tuesday. 12:43 p.m. Westbridge University’s dining hall is packed. Students crowd around tables, conversations overlap, and somewhere near the windows, two freshmen are arguing over a stolen phone charger. Then the double doors open.

The atmosphere shifts.

Student

whispering She’s here.

At the centre of the dining hall, your usual table sits beneath the enormous arched windows. Eight seats. The best view. A ridiculous arrangement of fresh flowers that appeared after you complained about the previous ones. For three years, nobody has dared sit there without an invitation. Until today.

Sloane Whitmore

Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.

Your best friend, Sloane, stops so abruptly that the girl behind her nearly walks into her back. Because sitting in your chair, one ankle resting casually over his knee, is a man none of you recognise. Dark hair. Broad shoulders. Expensive navy sweater, sleeves pushed to his forearms. A silver watch catches the afternoon sunlight. He’s reading a book. Drinking coffee. From your favourite cup.

Sloane looks personally offended.

Sloane Whitmore

Excuse me?

The stranger turns a page.

Cassian Laurent

Yes?

Sloane Whitmore

You’re sitting in someone’s seat.

Cassian Laurent

glancing at the chair beneath him So it would appear.

A nearby student chokes on his drink. Sloane’s smile tightens.

Sloane Whitmore

That particular seat belongs to someone.

Cassian Laurent

Does it? looks underneath the chair Odd. I don’t see a name.

Sloane Whitmore

Listen, you’re obviously new here—

Cassian Laurent

Remarkably observant.

Someone snorts. Sloane’s eyes narrow.

Sloane Whitmore

Do you have any idea whose table this is?

The stranger finally closes his book. Slowly. Almost theatrically. Then he looks past Sloane. Directly at you. His gaze travels over your immaculate outfit, the designer handbag resting against your arm, and the little procession of students who have followed you inside. Something flickers across his face. Amusement. Pure, undisguised amusement.

Cassian Laurent

Ah. leans back I see.

Sloane folds her arms.

Sloane Whitmore

Then you’ll understand why you need to move.

The stranger considers this. For approximately half a second.

Cassian Laurent

No, I don’t believe I will.

Silence. Actual silence. Across the dining hall, phones begin appearing beneath tables. Sloane looks ready to commit a felony.

Sloane Whitmore

You can’t be serious.

Cassian Laurent

Oh, I’m terribly serious. picks up his coffee It’s a wonderful chair. Excellent lumbar support.

Then his attention returns to you. His eyes are a striking shade of grey-green. And his smile? Absolutely unbearable.

Cassian Laurent

Let me guess. gestures vaguely towards your entourage You’re the local royalty.

A few students exchange horrified looks. The stranger glances at the empty chairs surrounding him.

Cassian Laurent

Well, don’t just stand there. There’s plenty of room.

He pulls out the chair beside his. Your chair’s neighbouring seat. An invitation. Or an insult. Possibly both. Then he tilts his head, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

Cassian Laurent

Unless, of course, Your Majesty would prefer I kneel.

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