Chapter 31 Proposal by Instinct
For a long moment, the world existed in fragments. Sound came first. A soft, rhythmic brushing—fingers moving gently through his hair. The faint rustle of fabric. The quiet, steady cadence of someone breathing just above him. Then came warmth. Not the distant, impersonal warmth of sunlight or fire, but something far more dangerous—something close. Something human. Soft. Then came awareness. Aric Solheim opened his eyes.
At first, he did not move. His vision blurred, then slowly sharpened into focus. The ceiling above him was familiar—his room, his estate, his domain. Safe. Controlled. Except— There was something profoundly wrong with the situation. He wasn’t on his bed. He wasn’t even upright. He was… lower. Much lower. And— Warm. Suspiciously warm.
His brain, still sluggish from the abrupt shutdown it had undergone moments earlier, began assembling the pieces. He was lying down. His head was… elevated. Resting on something soft. Something that shifted slightly as he breathed. And then— His gaze tilted upward. And everything stopped.
Ulrika Vincent looked down at him. Her expression was gentle. Soft in a way he had never seen directed at him before. Her fingers were still moving through his hair with slow, deliberate care, brushing strands away from his face as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
He froze. Completely. Utterly. Irrevocably. Because his head— Was in her lap.
His brain disconnected. Not metaphorically. Not poetically. Actually. There was a very distinct moment—sharp, clean, almost audible—where his mind simply ceased processing reality. Because this— This was not a battlefield. This was not a negotiation. This was not even a social interaction he could categorize, dissect, and survive through sheer force of discipline. This was something else entirely. Something far more dangerous. Something he had absolutely no training for. Warmth. Softness. Gentleness. Affection.
His body reacted before his mind could catch up. His shoulders tensed. His breath hitched. And then— Nothing. Because for a brief, stolen moment… He didn’t move. He didn’t speak. He didn’t want to. There was a strange, unfamiliar sensation curling in his chest—quiet, heavy, and oddly fragile. He didn’t understand it. But he knew one thing with startling clarity: He wanted this moment to last a little longer. Just— A little longer.
Her fingers were careful. Unhurried. There was no hesitation in her touch, no awkwardness, no second-guessing. Just a simple, steady rhythm—like she had decided, without question, that this was where he belonged right now. And for reasons he could not explain— He didn’t want to leave.
Which, of course— Was exactly when it ended.
“Oh, you’re awake.”
Her voice was bright. Cheerful. Entirely too normal for the catastrophic situation he had just become aware of. The moment shattered. Completely. His brain snapped back online like a battlefield command center under attack. Systems rebooted. Panic deployed. Dignity attempted to reassemble itself and failed catastrophically. Because now— Now he was aware. Fully. Painfully. Mortifyingly aware. He was lying on the floor. With his head in a woman’s lap. While she gently stroked his hair like— Like— His mind refused to finish that thought.
Something inside him shifted. Not logic. Not reason. Not even thought. Something deeper. Something older. Something that bypassed every carefully constructed wall he had spent his entire life building. Instinct.
Aric stared up at her. Really looked. At the way her silvered hair framed her face. At the faint tension in her shoulders, as if she was pretending to be more composed than she actually felt. At the way her eyes—sharp, calculating, terrifying on any battlefield—were now soft. Focused entirely on him. Waiting. There was no manipulation there. No strategy. No hidden blade behind her smile. Just— Her. And something in his chest tightened. Because he understood war. He understood loyalty. He understood duty, honor, sacrifice. But this? This quiet, terrifying vulnerability— He did not understand it at all. And that— That might have been what broke him.
Because the next thing that happened— Was not a decision. It was not calculated. It was not even remotely reasonable. He simply… Spoke.
“Marry me.”
Silence. Absolute, complete silence. The world did not react. Time did not move. Even the air seemed to hesitate. Ulrika blinked. Once. Slowly. “…okay.”
Pause. A long, stretched, impossible pause. The kind that existed in that strange space between reality and something else entirely. They both froze. Neither of them breathed. Neither of them moved. Their brains— Finally, belatedly— Caught up.
“…wait,” Ulrika said slowly. Her fingers had stopped moving at some point, though neither of them could pinpoint when. “…that worked?” Aric replied. His voice was calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that only existed when someone had no idea what they had just done.
They stared at each other. Still unmoving. Still frozen in place. His head was still in her lap. Her hand was still resting lightly in his hair. This— This was not how proposals were supposed to happen. There were supposed to be steps. Process. Preparation. A minimum of not being unconscious on the floor five minutes prior. And yet— Here they were. Engaged. Apparently.
Aric blinked. Once. Then again. His brain, now desperately attempting to regain control of the situation, began rapidly reviewing recent events. He had fainted. Because she told him— She was pregnant. With his children. Plural. Twins. His mind stalled again briefly, but he forced it forward. He had woken up. Found himself— In her lap. Being— Comforted. His jaw tightened slightly. And then— He had proposed. Without planning. Without thinking. Without even sitting up first.
He looked at her. Really looked. At the woman who had just— Accepted. Without hesitation. Without negotiation. Without even asking for clarification. “…you said yes,” he said, very carefully.
Ulrika blinked again. “…I did.”
“…you didn’t refuse.”
“…I didn’t.”
“…you didn’t ask for time to think.”
“…I didn’t.”
Another pause. Longer this time. “…you agreed immediately.”
“…I did.”
They stared at each other. Something shifted. Subtle. Quiet. But real. Because beneath the absurdity— Beneath the chaos— There was something else. Something steady. Something undeniable.
Ulrika tilted her head slightly, studying him. “…you proposed without thinking.”
“…correct.”
“…you didn’t hesitate.”
“…correct.”
“…you didn’t even look nervous.”
He paused. “…I may have been concussed.”
“…that tracks.”
Another silence. And then— Something dangerous happened. Ulrika smiled. Not her usual sharp, dangerous, I’m about to ruin someone’s life smile. Something softer. Amused. Genuine. “…well,” she said lightly, “that was efficient.”
Aric exhaled slowly. Because that— That felt like confirmation. Like something had just… locked into place. Not forced. Not manipulated. Just— Done. Final.
“…we should verify,” he said after a moment.
“…verify what?”
“…whether that was an official agreement.”
Ulrika considered that. Then— Very deliberately— She shifted slightly, adjusting his head in her lap so she could look down at him more directly. Her fingers resumed their slow, absentminded motion through his hair. “…Grand Duke Aric Solheim,” she said, her tone suddenly formal—mockingly so.
He stiffened slightly. “…yes?”
“…are you, in your current state of questionable consciousness, formally asking for my hand in marriage?”
He held her gaze. Did not look away. “…yes.”
No hesitation this time. No instinct. Just certainty.
Her expression changed. Just a little. The humor didn’t disappear—but something deeper settled beneath it. “…and you understand,” she continued, quieter now, “that I come with… complications.”
“…I am aware.”
“…danger.”
“…I am aware.”
“…scandals.”
“…I am aware.”
“…twins.”
A beat. “…I am becoming increasingly aware.”
That almost made her laugh. Almost. “…and you’re still asking?”
“…yes.”
No pause. No falter. Just— Yes.
Something in her eyes softened further. “…then yes,” she said, more quietly this time. Not joking. Not teasing. Real. “I’ll marry you.”
Silence fell again. But this time— It wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t confused. It wasn’t fragile. It was— Solid. Like something had just been built. Without effort. Without resistance. Just— There.
Aric let out a slow breath. “…understood.”
Ulrika huffed softly. “…understood?” she repeated.
“…I am acknowledging the agreement.”
“…you just got engaged.”
“…correct.”
“…and your response is ‘understood.’”
“…correct.”
She stared at him. Then— Shook her head slightly. “…you’re unbelievable.”
“…I have been told that.”
“…not as a compliment.”
“…I assumed as much.”
And just like that— The tension cracked. Completely. Ulrika let out a quiet laugh. Aric—still lying there, still not moving—felt something strange settle in his chest. Not panic. Not confusion. Not even shock. Just— Calm. A terrifying, unfamiliar calm. Because for the first time in a very long time— Something in his life had happened without conflict. Without resistance. Without war. It had just… Worked.
Neither of them moved. Not immediately. Because— There was no rush. No urgency. No need to break the moment. And maybe— Just maybe— They both wanted it to last a little longer.
“…we should probably stand up,” Ulrika said eventually.
“…probably.”
Neither of them moved.
“…you’re still in my lap.”
“…I am aware.”
“…aren't you going to move?”
A pause. “…eventually.”
She snorted. “…this is ridiculous.”
“…I agree.”
Another pause. Long. Comfortable. “…we’re engaged,” she said.
“…we are.”
“…you proposed while concussed.”
“…that is an accurate assessment.”
“…and I accepted immediately.”
“…also accurate.”
They both went quiet again. Then— “…this is going to be chaos,” Ulrika said.
“…yes.”
“…your reputation?”
“…already compromised.”
“…my reputation?”
“…already nonexistent.”
She grinned. “…perfect.”
A beat. Then— Finally— Aric closed his eyes for just a moment. Not from exhaustion. Not from overwhelm. But from something far more dangerous. Contentment. And that— Might have been the most alarming thing of all.
The room was comfortably silent and the door was still locked. And outside… someone was about to notice.