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The courtyard was unusually peaceful that afternoon.
Golden sunlight spilled across the stone paths of Auradon Prep, warming the castle walls and making the stained-glass windows glitter with streaks of color. The weather was perfect — not too hot, not too cold — the kind of afternoon that made everybody abandon their dorms and crowd outside.
Students filled nearly every corner of the courtyard. Some sat around the fountain eating lunch while others lounged across the grass with textbooks they clearly weren’t reading. A group of freshmen nearby were arguing loudly over enchanted chemistry homework while somebody else blasted music from a speaker that definitely wasn’t school-approved.
Everything felt loud and alive in that distinctly Auradon way.
Which was exactly why Chloe should’ve known Max Hatter was about to ruin it.
She sat beneath the massive willow tree near the center fountain with one leg crossed neatly over the other, notebook balanced carefully against her knee. Blue curls spilled over her shoulder as she focused on reorganizing the Swords and Shields training schedule for what was probably the third time that week.
Maybe fourth.
At this point she’d lost count.
Because apparently nobody in that club knew how to communicate properly.
Or arrive on time.
Or follow instructions.
Honestly, Chloe was beginning to understand why her mother occasionally looked one inconvenience away from losing her mind during royal meetings.
Beside her, Red laid sprawled across the grass like she didn’t have a single care in the world, lazily tossing grapes into the air and catching maybe half of them successfully. Hazel leaned against the bench itself, one boot propped against the stone while she spun her hook absentmindedly between her fingers.
For once, nobody was causing chaos.
For once, Chloe almost felt relaxed.
A breeze moved softly through the courtyard, rustling the willow branches overhead. Somewhere behind her, someone laughed loudly enough to startle a flock of birds near the fountain.
Then Chloe felt it.
That annoying feeling of being watched.
Again.
Her pen paused mid-sentence.
The peaceful mood vanished immediately.
She didn’t even need to look up anymore to know who it was.
“Don’t,” she said flatly.
Red grinned without an ounce of shame. “I literally didn’t even say anything.”
“You were about to.”
Hazel snorted quietly. “She got you there.”
Chloe kept her eyes fixed stubbornly on the notebook in her lap, pretending to reread the practice schedule even though she’d completely lost focus the second Max Hatter entered the room.
Not that she would ever admit that out loud.
Red looked dramatically offended, pressing a hand against her chest. “Wow. We’re just trying to support you during your daily enemies-to-lovers arc.”
Chloe nearly choked on air.
“There is no arc.”
“Okay,” Hazel said. “Then why’s he been staring at you for like five straight minutes?”
Her grip tightened around the notebook.
She hated that they noticed things.
Worse, she hated that Max was apparently not even attempting to hide it anymore.
“I genuinely do not care what Max is doing.”
Red burst out laughing so hard she almost dropped her grapes.
“That was way too fast,” she said through laughter. “You sound defensive already.”
“I’m not defensive.”
“Mhm.”
Chloe exhaled slowly through her nose, gripping the edge of the notebook a little tighter before finally making the mistake of looking up.
And there he was.
Max leaned carelessly against one of the stone archways across the courtyard like he didn’t have a single responsibility in his life. His ridiculous outfit looked like something only a Hatter could get away with—a long purple coat embroidered with swirling patterns, a dark waistcoat chained across his chest, textured green trousers, polished black boots, and a black bowler hat perched atop messy black-and-purple hair.
Somehow, despite how absurd all of it should have looked, he made it work.
And his hazel eyes were locked directly onto her.
Like they had been for a while.
The second their eyes met—
He smirked.
Not even subtle about it.
Not embarrassed either.
If anything, he looked pleased she’d finally noticed him.
Chloe immediately regretted looking.
“Oh, he’s coming over,” Hazel muttered under her breath.
“Fantastic,” Chloe deadpanned.
Max pushed himself off the archway and started walking toward them at an annoyingly relaxed pace, hands shoved into his pockets. Students moved aside automatically as he passed, mostly because Max carried this energy around him like he was either about to start a fight or make fun of someone.
Usually both.
The closer he got, the more Chloe could feel herself mentally preparing for whatever nonsense was about to leave his mouth.
Which was ridiculous.
Nobody should have this much power to annoy somebody else simply by existing.
“Well, look at this,” Max said casually once he reached the bench. “Princess Charming doing homework voluntarily. Crazy behavior.”
“It’s not homework,” Chloe replied without looking at him.
“Wow. Sorry. Didn’t realize I hit a nerve.”
“You existing hits a nerve.”
Red covered her mouth immediately to hide a laugh.
Max grinned wider, clearly delighted. “Damn. Starting aggressive today.”
Chloe forced herself to keep writing, pretending she couldn’t feel him leaning slightly closer to see what she was doing.
Which, annoyingly, she absolutely could.
“Are you seriously working right now?” he asked. “It’s sunny outside. Go touch grass or something.”
“Some of us actually have responsibilities.”
“Yeah, and some of us know how to relax.”
“You literally show up late to everything.”
“And yet somehow the world keeps spinning.”
Chloe snapped the notebook shut before he could peek at it.
“Can you not?”
“Ooo. Secret princess business?”
“It’s called being organized. You should try it sometime.”
Max pressed a hand dramatically against his chest. “That was kinda mean.”
“You’ll survive.”
“Emotionally? Debatable.”
Hazel actually laughed out loud this time.
Chloe hated how easy he made it for everyone else to have fun at her expense.
Especially because she could already feel herself getting flustered, and he clearly noticed it too.
He always noticed.
That was the problem.
One arm rested against the back of the bench, close enough for her to catch the faint scent of smoke and leather whenever the wind shifted.
“You know what’s funny?” he asked.
“No.”
“You act like you hate talking to me, but you answer every single time.”
Chloe looked up before she could stop herself. “Because if I ignore you, you get worse.”
“That’s fair, honestly.”
His grin softened slightly, and that only made everything more irritating.
Because when Max stopped acting cocky for half a second, it became dangerously easy to notice things she tried very hard not to notice.
Like his eyes, the tiny scar near his jaw, or the way he always looked at her like he was trying to figure her out.
Like every sarcastic comment he made was covering up something else entirely.
“You’re staring again,” Chloe said before she could stop herself.
Max blinked once. “And you noticed again.”
Looking at him suddenly felt like a mistake.
Red physically turned away to hide her reaction while Hazel bit down on her lip hard enough to stop herself from laughing.
Chloe stood up quickly before her face could get any hotter.
“I have practice.”
“Ooo, scary captain mode.”
“At least I’m capable of showing up on time.”
Max winced dramatically. “Still holding onto that?”
“You were forty minutes late yesterday.”
“And you remembered the exact amount of time. Cute.”
She looked away too quickly.
Red made a noise that sounded suspiciously like “what the fuck.”
The stupidest part was that Max looked genuinely entertained by how flustered she was getting.
Like this entire interaction was his favorite part of the day.
“I hate you,” Chloe informed him.
Max’s smirk came back immediately. “No, you don’t.”
And the worst part?
He sounded completely sure of it.
Not teasing.
Not joking.
Certain.
The confidence in his voice made Chloe’s jaw tighten before she could stop it.
She glared at him for one long second before turning around and walking away across the courtyard, clutching her notebook tightly against her chest.
She could still feel him watching her the entire time.
Which only made her more irritated.
The second she disappeared around the corner, Red pointed dramatically at Max.
“You are SO down bad.”
Max looked genuinely offended. “That phrase is embarrassing.”
“That wasn’t a denial,” Hazel pointed out immediately.
He rolled his eyes, though the corner of his mouth twitched slightly like he was trying not to smile.
“She’s just easy to mess with.”
“Mhmm,” Red said. “That’s why you follow her around like a lost dog.”
“I do not follow her around.”
“You absolutely do,” Hazel said. “It’s actually getting embarrassing.”
Max scoffed softly, though he was very clearly losing this argument.
“She’s insane.”
Red grinned instantly. “And you like that.”
Silence.
Hazel gasped dramatically. “NO FUCKING WAY HE DOES.”
“Shut up.”
“You’re blushing,” Red said immediately.
“I literally am not.”
“You literally are.”
Max dragged a hand down his face with a groan. “You two are unbelievably annoying.”
“And yet,” Red said smugly, “not as annoying as you are to Chloe.”
That actually made him laugh quietly.
A real laugh this time.
Small, genuine, and impossible to hide.
Which told them everything.
Red’s grin immediately turned evil.
“Perfect. Go bother her at practice.”
Max narrowed his eyes. “You’re trying to start something.”
“I would never.”
Hazel snorted loudly. “That’s a lie.”
Red ignored her completely. “C’mon. Push her buttons a little.”
He glanced toward the direction she’d disappeared, his expression unreadable for half a second before a slow smirk returned.
“That’s probably a bad idea.”
“Exactly,” Red said proudly.
Later that afternoon, the main training field was absolute chaos.
The entire arena echoed with the sounds of clashing practice swords, shields colliding, and students yelling over one another across the massive open field. The late afternoon sun hung low over Auradon Prep, casting long golden shadows across the training grounds and heating the metal weapons enough to make them warm against students’ hands.
It was loud.
Messy.
Disorganized.
Which, unfortunately for everyone involved, meant Chloe Charming was slowly losing her patience.
She stood near the center of the field with her sleeves rolled neatly to her elbows, blue curls tied back away from her face while she corrected students for what felt like the hundredth time that day.
“No, no — your footing’s wrong,” Chloe said, stepping forward quickly to reposition someone’s stance. “If you lean too far forward, you’re gonna lose your balance immediately.”
The student straightened so fast they nearly tripped.
Chloe exhaled quietly through her nose.
“Better.”
Being captain of Swords and Shields was exhausting sometimes.
Not because she didn’t enjoy it — she did. She genuinely loved training, strategy, teamwork, structure. There was something satisfying about turning chaos into order.
The problem was the people.
Nobody listened properly.
Half the team got distracted every five seconds.
And the other half apparently thought “showing up on time” was optional.
Which immediately made her think of Max.
Annoyingly.
Again.
Chloe frowned to herself as she crossed the field, correcting another student’s shield position while trying very hard not to think about the conversation from earlier in the courtyard.
About his stupid smirk.
Or the way he looked at her.
Or how annoyingly aware she’d become of his attention lately.
It was distracting.
And Chloe hated being distracted.
Especially by him.
“Captain?” someone asked nervously.
Chloe blinked, realizing she’d zoned out for half a second.
“Yes. Sorry. Again from the top.”
The students immediately reset their positions.
Around the field, practice continued in uneven bursts of noise and movement. Wooden swords cracked together while shields slammed loudly enough to echo against the castle walls nearby. A group near the back argued over technique while somebody else nearly dropped their weapon entirely.
Chloe moved automatically through the chaos, correcting stances, fixing posture, giving instructions without even needing to think about them anymore.
Everything felt manageable again.
Controlled.
Predictable.
Then the gates to the training field creaked open.
The sound barely registered at first.
But the second several students glanced nervously toward the entrance, Chloe already knew.
Of course.
Of course it was him.
A sharp wave of irritation hit her immediately.
And there he was.
Max Hatter strolled casually onto the field like he hadn’t just missed nearly half the practice session. His ridiculous purple coat swayed behind him, and the black bowler hat perched atop his dark hair somehow made him look even more insufferably confident than usual.
The late sunlight caught the purple streaks in his hair as he walked.
Several students immediately exchanged looks.
Somebody near the weapon rack quietly muttered, “Oh, we’re doomed.”
From across the field, Chloe stared at him for one long second without moving, speaking, or even blinking.
Then her expression changed completely.
All the calm focus disappeared from her face almost instantly, replaced by a look sharp enough to make several nearby students take cautious steps backward.
She started walking toward him before she even consciously decided to.
Fast.
Purposeful.
Dangerously irritated.
“You’re late.”
Her voice cut cleanly through the noise of the training field.
The conversations nearby died almost immediately.
Max glanced around casually like he genuinely hadn’t noticed the tension yet.
“Really?” he said lazily. “Damn. I had no idea.”
Several people physically winced.
Chloe stopped directly in front of him, arms crossing tightly over her chest while she stared up at him in disbelief.
“You were supposed to be here half an hour ago.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“And?”
Max shrugged carelessly. “Got distracted.”
“By what?”
He paused like he actually needed to think about it.
“Honestly?” he admitted. “Don’t remember.”
A couple students turned away immediately to hide their laughter.
Chloe looked one sentence away from violence.
“You cannot just show up whenever you feel like it,” she snapped. “Everybody else managed to get here on time. Why do you think the rules don’t apply to you?”
Max tilted his head slightly, watching her far too closely for somebody currently getting yelled at.
There was amusement in his eyes already.
The reaction told them everything they needed to know.
“I mean…” he said slowly, “I’m still better than half the people here.”
“Max.”
“What? I’m right.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“And yet you keep inviting me back.”
“That’s because you’re talented,” Chloe shot back immediately. “Not because you’re easy to deal with.”
The second the words left her mouth, she regretted them.
Because Max’s expression shifted.
Smug. Victorious.
Like he’d just won something.
“You think I’m talented?” he asked, far too entertained by that realization.
“That is not what this conversation is about.”
“Wow. Defensive already?”
“I’m literally trying to yell at you.”
“I know. It’s kinda cute.”
Her pulse jumped before she could stop it.
“Do not call me cute right now.”
“Why? You get this little crease in your forehead when you’re mad. It’s adorable.”
“This is so entertaining,” Hazel whispered dramatically from the sidelines.
Red looked moments away from collapsing onto the grass laughing.
Meanwhile Chloe was trying very hard not to completely lose control of this situation.
Which was difficult when Max looked so ridiculously pleased with himself.
“You’re impossible,” she snapped. “Seriously, do you enjoy making my life harder?”
“A little.”
“At least you’re honest.”
Another step closed the distance between them, lowering his voice just enough that the tension between them shifted immediately.
“You make it really easy, Princess.”
The nickname shouldn’t have affected her that much.
But it did.
Like it belonged to her.
Chloe hated the effect that had on her.
“You think everything’s a joke,” she said more quietly now, though somehow the frustration in her voice sounded even sharper. “You show up late, ignore instructions, do whatever you want— and then act surprised when people get mad at you.”
For the first time since arriving, Max’s smirk faded slightly.
Not completely.
Just enough to reveal something more honest underneath it.
“And you care way too much about everything,” he replied.
The words landed harder than they should have.
Because part of her knew he wasn’t entirely wrong.
And somehow that made her even angrier.
Around them, the entire training field had gone nearly silent now.
Everybody was pretending not to stare while very obviously staring.
Chloe suddenly became painfully aware of how close Max was standing.
Close enough that she could see the tiny scar near his jaw. Close enough to notice the purple strands falling from beneath his hat, the gold buttons of his waistcoat, and the faint scent of smoke and leather clinging to the ridiculous coat she pretended not to like.
She suddenly became hyperaware of every movement.
“You’re distracting everybody,” she muttered.
Max glanced lazily around the field. “Sounds like their problem.”
That was it.
Absolutely it.
Chloe took one sharp breath before spinning toward the rest of the team.
“Practice is over!”
The entire field froze.
“What?” somebody blurted out immediately.
“We’ll continue tomorrow,” Chloe said quickly. “Three o’clock. Please try being capable of arriving on time.”
Several students instantly looked toward Max.
Max’s grin widened instantly.
Meanwhile, Chloe looked seconds away from dying of embarrassment.
Without another word, she turned sharply and stormed across the field toward the smaller private training room near the back of the arena.
The doors slammed shut behind her hard enough to echo across the entire training ground.
Silence followed.
Then Red slowly turned toward Max.
“So…” she said carefully. “You know she’s like one argument away from murdering you, right?”
Max kept staring toward the closed training room doors for another second.
Then the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
“Yeah,” he said quietly.
And followed her.
Ten minutes later, the private training room was filled with the violent sound of wood splintering apart.
Chloe slammed the practice sword against the training dummy hard enough to send cracks running through the wood.
The impact vibrated painfully up her arms.
Good.
Maybe if she kept hitting something long enough, she’d stop thinking about him.
Another strike.
Another loud crack echoed through the room.
The private training space was smaller than the main field, enclosed by stone walls lined with old weapon racks and damaged practice shields. Afternoon light filtered weakly through the high windows, casting soft gold across the floor.
Usually Chloe liked this room.
It was quiet.
Controlled.
A place where she could think.
Right now, though, her thoughts felt like complete chaos.
Why did he affect her this much?
Another hit slammed into the dummy.
The door creaked open behind her.
Chloe didn’t turn around.
“I swear to the gods, if that’s you—”
“It is.”
Of course it was.
Her grip tightened instantly around the sword handle.
“I told you to go away.”
The door clicked shut behind him.
“You say that a lot,” Max replied casually. “Doesn’t really seem like you mean it, though.”
Chloe let out a sharp laugh with absolutely no humor in it.
“Oh, trust me. I mean it right now.”
Max leaned casually against the wall near the entrance, crossing his arms while watching her carefully.
For once, he wasn’t smirking much.
The room felt more dangerous because of it.
Chloe swung the sword again hard enough to shake the dummy.
“Why are you like this?” she demanded suddenly. “Seriously. What is wrong with you?”
Max raised an eyebrow. “That’s a long list.”
“I’m being serious.”
“So am I.”
Chloe finally spun around to face him fully, breathing unevenly now.
“Why do you enjoy annoying me so much?” she asked. “Like genuinely. Is this fun for you?”
Max studied her quietly for a second.
“You wanna know the truth?”
“No, I wanna know why you act insane.”
That made him laugh softly.
Then something in his expression shifted.
“You’re more honest when you’re mad.”
Chloe blinked.
“What?”
“The whole perfect princess thing?” Max said, pushing himself slowly away from the wall. “It’s exhausting.”
Her jaw tightened immediately.
“You don’t know me.”
“I know enough.”
“No, you think you know enough.”
Max walked closer while she spoke, moving slowly this time.
Carefully.
“You act like you have everything together all the time,” he said quietly. “Like you have to fix everybody’s problems twenty-four seven.”
Chloe’s gaze dropped instantly.
Because she hated how accurate that sounded.
“And?” she asked defensively.
“And it looks tiring.”
Something twisted painfully in her chest.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I think I do.”
“You don’t.”
“I know you’re scared of disappointing people.”
Chloe’s grip tightened around the sword handle.
“I know you put pressure on yourself constantly.”
“Stop.”
“And I know,” Max continued more softly now, stepping even closer, “that pretending to be perfect all the time is probably killing you.”
“Max.”
His name came out quieter than before.
Less angry.
Which was dangerous.
Because suddenly the room didn’t feel angry anymore.
It felt tense in an entirely different way.
The air between them tightened as Max stopped directly in front of her, close enough to throw every coherent thought completely out of focus.
He stopped close enough that she had to tilt her head slightly to look at him properly. Close enough for her thoughts to short-circuit entirely, for her to notice his breathing had changed too.
"Shut up," she muttered weakly.
For a second, neither of them moved. The room suddenly felt much smaller than it had a few minutes ago.
Max stared at her—not teasing, not smirking, just looking. Like he was waiting for her to say something. To argue. To push him away. Anything.
But Chloe couldn't think.
Because the worst part was that she knew he was right.
She was tired. Tired of trying to be perfect, tired of carrying everybody else's expectations, tired of pretending none of it affected her. And somehow Max had seen right through all of it.
The realization made her chest ache.
"You don't get to do that," she said quietly.
Max frowned slightly.
"Do what?"
"Pretend you know me."
Something flashed across his face. Not amusement. Something softer.
"I don't pretend," he said.
The room fell silent again as Chloe swallowed hard, suddenly too aware of how little distance remained between them. She could hear her own heartbeat, hear his breathing, feel every second stretching unbearably longer.
Max’s gaze flicked briefly toward her lips before returning to her eyes, like he’d caught himself crossing a line he wasn’t sure he should cross.
For the first time all afternoon, his confidence slipped.
That affected Chloe far more than the teasing ever had.
"Max..."
His name came out almost like a warning. Or maybe a question.
He stepped forward anyway.
Only half a step.
Enough to make her pulse jump.
Enough to make leaving still possible.
Neither of them moved away.
"Tell me to go," he said quietly.
Chloe opened her mouth, fully intending to say something.
Nothing came out.
The corner of his mouth twitched. Not a smirk this time—something nervous. Something real.
Then his eyes flicked toward her lips again.
And Chloe finally snapped.
The practice sword slipped from her hand and clattered loudly against the floor.
Then she grabbed the front of his jacket and kissed him.
Hard.
Max stumbled back half a step in genuine surprise before immediately kissing her back.
And wow.
Okay.
That was—
A hand slid instantly into her curls while the other settled firmly against her waist, pulling her closer without hesitation. The kiss felt messy and heated and emotional in a way Chloe definitely wasn’t prepared for.
Months of tension crashed together at once—every argument, every sarcastic comment, every lingering look across crowded rooms.
All of it exploded at once.
Chloe kissed him harder out of pure frustration alone.
Max made a quiet sound against her lips that absolutely did not help.
By the time they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathing hard.
Chloe’s face burned so badly she thought she might actually die from embarrassment.
Meanwhile Max looked genuinely stunned for once in his life.
Which, honestly, felt incredibly satisfying.
Neither of them spoke for several long seconds.
Then Chloe groaned softly and dropped her forehead against his chest.
“I still think you’re the most annoying person alive.”
Max let out a breathless laugh, arms wrapping around her automatically.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “But you still kissed me.”
Chloe made a mortified noise. “Can you not say it out loud?”
“Nope.”
She groaned louder.
Max tilted her chin upward gently, grinning again now.
“This is gonna make arguing with you way more interesting, by the way.”
Chloe narrowed her eyes immediately. “Don’t ruin this already.”
“No promises, Princess.”
And somehow, impossibly—
That stupid nickname sounded a lot softer now.