The Love Potion Diaries
A dual-timeline romance about choosing real love over perfect expectations
Prologue: The Girl in the Airplane
I pressed my forehead against the cold airplane window, watching New York City shrink beneath the clouds. My whole life was down there—my house, my school, my friends, and John. Especially John.
Mom tapped my shoulder for the third time. I continued ignoring her.
“Sweetheart, I know you’re upset, but—”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I muttered, pulling my hoodie tighter around myself.
She sighed. “London is an incredible opportunity. You’ll make new friends. The schools there are excellent. And you’ll love the house—it’s been in my family for generations.”
I didn’t respond. What was the point? Nothing I said would change the fact that my mother had uprooted my entire existence for a job promotion. Right before prom. Right when John Matthews—the most popular guy at Madison High—had finally asked me to be his girlfriend.
We’d been the “it couple” for exactly three weeks before Mom dropped the London bomb. Three weeks of envious looks in the hallway, of sitting at the popular table during lunch, of finally being someone who mattered.
All of it, gone.
Little did I know, the ancestral house waiting for us in London held secrets that would change everything I thought I knew about love, sacrifice, and what truly matters.
Chapter 1: The Ancestral Manor
The house was exactly as creepy as I’d imagined.
Gray stone walls loomed against an overcast sky. Ivy crawled up the facade like nature was trying to reclaim the building. Inside, ancient portraits lined the walls—stern-faced ancestors whose eyes seemed to follow my every move. The ceilings soared impossibly high, and a grand marble staircase dominated the entrance hall.
“This place could use a renovation,” Mom said cheerfully, setting down her suitcase. “But it has character, don’t you think?”
“It looks like the kind of house where people hear whispers in the middle of the night and wake up possessed,” I replied flatly. “But you know what? I’ll just go live in the attic. If I have to suffer in this house, in this city, in this life, then let me suffer properly.”
Mom rolled her eyes. “Suit yourself, Cinderella. Don’t come crying to me when the rats start fighting for bed space.”
I grabbed my bags and marched upstairs, determination fueling each step. The attic was accessible through a narrow door at the end of the third-floor hallway. Dust particles danced in the weak sunlight filtering through a grimy window. The space was cramped, filled with old furniture covered in white sheets, and it smelled like forgotten memories.
Perfect.
I claimed a corner, shoved aside some boxes, and made a nest of blankets on an ancient daybed. This would be my kingdom of misery. My monument to teenage angst. At least here, no one would bother me.
Chapter 2: The Midnight Discovery
That first night, jet lag kept me tossing and turning. Around 2 AM, a skittering noise jolted me fully awake. My heart hammered as I lay perfectly still, listening.
Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.
Rats. Of course there were rats. Mom had warned me.
Then something brushed against my bare arm.
I shot up with a strangled scream, scrambling off the bed so fast I lost my balance. My foot came down hard on a loose floorboard, which cracked under my weight with a sound like a gunshot.
The board split clean in half, revealing a dark compartment beneath.
My breath caught. Slowly, I knelt and peered into the hidden space. Inside were stacks of leather-bound books, their covers cracked with age. I pulled out the top volume, my hands trembling slightly.
The leather was soft and worn. When I opened to the first page, elegant handwriting greeted me in faded ink:
June 1st, 1847
I should have been tired. I should have put the diary away and gone back to sleep. But something about that handwriting drew me in. I settled onto the bed, pulled a blanket around my shoulders, and began to read.
Chapter 3: Evelyn’s Voice
My apologies—I’m not always in such a mood. There are days when I feel quite good about myself, when my skin glows, my curls behave, and my corset isn’t trying to squeeze the life out of me. But lately, things haven’t been wonderful.
All because of Lord Tristan Blackwell.
My father wants me to marry him. Lord Tristan is rich, handsome, well-mannered, and lord of some overly important kingdom that will apparently benefit the crown. Everyone tells me I’m the luckiest girl in the world.
I feel nauseous.
It’s not that I hate Tristan—he’s perfectly pleasant. Almost too pleasant. That’s the problem. He gives me what the servants call “the ick.” Sometimes when he’s talking, I get this overwhelming urge to throw myself into the nearest lake just to escape the conversation.
And it doesn’t help that his best friend, Captain Leopold, is always around. Leopold serves as captain of Tristan’s palace guard, and he’s the most narcissistic, sarcastic, infuriating man I’ve ever encountered. While Tristan smiles and agrees with everything I say, Leopold challenges me at every turn. While Tristan compliments my appearance, Leopold compares me to vegetables.
I should hate Leopold. I do hate Leopold.
So why can’t I stop thinking about him?
I looked up from the diary, my heart racing. This was better than any Netflix series. I flipped to the next entry.
Chapter 4: The Garden Picnic
Today was unbearable. Father insisted we host Tristan for a garden picnic, despite temperatures hot enough to melt iron. I wore approximately fifty pounds of silk and lace while Tristan went on and on about the weather and the birds and the “exquisite spread before us.”
Leopold, of course, had to make his opinion known.
“Perhaps you should try training in full armor at noon,” he said to me when I complained about the heat. “It builds character.”
“Perhaps you should try swimming with rocks tied to your feet,” I shot back.
Tristan just laughed. “You two always have such wonderful banter. It warms my heart.”
The man is completely oblivious.
Then Tristan spotted a red apple on the serving tray and acted like he’d discovered gold. “What a gorgeous red apple! The finest I’ve ever seen! Oh, Evelyn, I am overjoyed to think that I shall get to enjoy such pleasures for the rest of my life.”
An apple. He was excited about an apple.
I wanted to pull my hair out.
Chapter 5: The Grand Ball and a Desperate Wish
I was completely hooked. I read through the night, watching Evelyn’s story unfold in her own elegant handwriting.
She’d arranged a grand ball to introduce Tristan to the court, hoping that public approval might help her develop feelings for him. Instead, the evening became suffocating. Every guest commented on how perfect they looked together. How lucky Evelyn was. How blessed their union would be.
By dinner, Evelyn had escaped to her chambers, where her lady’s maid Rosie found her.
“Well, I’m angry too. What does that matter to him? I’m nothing more than a precious jewel to be set in the crown of his perfect alliance.”
Rosie sat beside me, her expression sympathetic. “What did Lord Tristan do now?”
“That’s the problem—he doesn’t do anything! I once said the moon was made of cheese, and he replied, ‘Well, if the princess believes it, perhaps there is more to the moon than we know.'”
“That’s quite sweet, actually.”
“No, it’s maddening! I want someone who challenges me when I say something ridiculous. I want to feel emotion—anger, pain, love, happiness, anything. Because right now, all I feel is looming dread.”
The next entry made my eyes widen.
This morning, I woke to find Rosie standing by my bedside, holding a tiny glass vial filled with shimmering liquid.
“What’s that?” I asked groggily.
“A love potion. You said you’d do anything to fall in love with Tristan for the sake of your family. I took you seriously.”
“Rosie, I was being dramatic—”
“I found a gypsy in the market. She sold me this. One sip, and the first person you lay eyes on will be the love of your life. True love, she promised.”
I stared at the vial, uncertain. Part of me thought it was probably just flavored water. But another part wondered—what if it wasn’t?
Chapter 6: The Accidental Effect
Evelyn had taken the vial to the stables, planning to think about whether to use it. But when she returned to retrieve it from her bag, the vial was gone. She’d searched everywhere—her chambers, the gardens, the stables. Nothing.
“If you didn’t make it your life’s mission to annoy me,” I muttered to his unconscious form, “you’re not actually that bad looking.”
A fly landed on his nose. I waved my hand to shoo it away, but the pest wouldn’t budge. I waved harder—and accidentally slapped Leopold straight across the face.
His eyes snapped open. “Good God! What are you doing?”
“I—I was making sure you weren’t dead.”
“Obviously not. I just have a splitting headache. And wait—did you do something to your face?”
“Define something.”
“I don’t know. Did you eat a light bulb? You look exceptionally radiant.”
I frowned. “What is this? One of your stupid jokes?”
“Maybe it’s the hair. Did you polish it? It’s shining like the sun. Or the moon on a clear night.”
“This is unsettling. What’s wrong with you?”
He stood up quickly, then seemed flustered. “Maybe the heat has fried my brain. I need—you’re very—I mean, I’m fine. We’re fine.”
Then he simply walked away, leaving me utterly confused.
It wasn’t until later that evening that Evelyn realized the horrible truth. Leopold had found the vial in the stables, been curious about the strange-smelling liquid, and drunk it. And she had been the first person he saw when he opened his eyes.
Leopold was under the influence of the love potion—the potion meant for Evelyn and Tristan.
Chapter 7: The Stolen Crest
Over the next few entries, Evelyn documented Leopold’s increasingly strange behavior. He couldn’t look at her without blushing. He made excuses to leave any room she entered. He stumbled over his words and acted completely unlike his usual confident self.
Then everything changed when the Celestial Crest—a powerful artifact from the royal treasury—was stolen.
Chaos erupted in the palace this morning. The Celestial Crest, said to grant its bearer invisibility in battle, has vanished from the royal vault. A guard was found unconscious, and all evidence pointed to one person: Lord Tristan.
Father was furious. The entire court assembled as guards dragged witnesses forward. A royal crest bearing Tristan’s insignia was found near the vault. The wounded guard claimed Tristan had demanded entry and struck him down when refused.
I couldn’t believe it. Not Tristan. He was too honest, too noble.
But Tristan had disappeared.
Leopold stepped forward before the entire court. “I will find Lord Tristan and recover the Crest. I stake my life on his innocence.”
“And if you fail?” Father asked coldly.
“Then you can have my head for it.”
The court had fallen silent. Evelyn watched Leopold’s jaw set with determination, and her heart did something strange in her chest. He was risking everything for his friend.
That’s when she made her decision. She couldn’t let Leopold go alone.
Chapter 8: The Journey Begins
Getting Leopold to agree was, according to Evelyn’s account, like pulling teeth. He insisted it was too dangerous. She argued that she could handle herself—she’d been trained in sword fighting, knew how to navigate dangerous situations, and was skilled at dealing with people.
Finally, Leopold had reluctantly agreed, though not before reminding her that if she slowed him down, he’d leave her behind.
Leopold and I departed at dawn. We rode through the countryside in tense silence. Leopold kept his distance, his expression unreadable.
By midafternoon, we stopped by a river to rest the horses. I was drinking water when Leopold spoke.
“I’ve never seen anyone look so elegant while drinking water,” he blurted out.
I nearly choked. “That’s probably just the love potion speaking.”
“Why can’t you just take a compliment and say thank you?”
“Well, in my defense, you’ve never really complimented me before.”
“That’s not true. I complimented you when you wore that green dress to the ball.”
“You said I reminded you of freshly cut spinach.”
“Everyone knows spinach is good for health! It was a compliment!”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “A compliment is when you tell a lady how her hair reminds you of silk, or how her eyes shine like stars.”
“And how when she smiles, she makes the world spin,” Leopold said softly. Then he seemed to catch himself. “I mean, the world in general. Not necessarily mine.”
I noticed his ears were bright red.
Chapter 9: Bandits and Disguises
The journey grew more dangerous. They encountered bandits on the road, and I found myself impressed by Evelyn’s quick thinking. She’d convinced the criminals they were runaway servants by adopting a completely different accent and mannerisms. Leopold had played along, and they’d escaped with their lives—though they’d lost their gold and nearly lost the horses too.
“Oh, saints be good,” I cried in my best servant’s accent. “You fine gentlemen found us just in time! We’re just two poor, desperate lovers running from a cruel master. Worked for a slave master, we did. Scrubbing his floors, polishing his boots, breaking our backs for nothing.”
Leopold caught on quickly. “It is true. I just love me moonflower so much. She made a thief out of me. You know how it is. A man will do anything when he’s in love.”
The bandits were suspicious at first, but I played my part perfectly—crying about my cruel life, my aching feet, my crooked back from carrying heavy water. By the end, they took pity on us and let us keep the horses.
That night, camping in a dingy cave, they’d talked. Really talked. Leopold revealed the pain of his brother’s betrayal, how Jeffrey had stolen from the crown and been exiled. Evelyn shared her loneliness as a princess, how difficult it was to find genuine friendship when everyone wanted something from her.
For the first time, they saw each other as real people, not just the roles they played.
Chapter 10: The Bear and the Bridge
Today, we nearly died. Multiple times.
We’d been following tracks through increasingly dense forest when Leopold insisted his route was correct. I asked to see the map. He refused, claiming his military experience made him better qualified.
“Because you’re a man, right?” I challenged.
A low, guttural growl cut him off.
A massive bear emerged from the underbrush, its teeth bared.
“Stay still,” Leopold whispered. “If you don’t move—”
The bear roared. My horse panicked and bolted through the trees. Leopold raced after me, both our horses out of control.
We burst from the forest and found ourselves facing a half-rotted rope bridge spanning a deep gorge.
They’d had to abandon their horses and cross on foot. Halfway across, Evelyn’s boot caught between planks. The bear lumbered onto the bridge behind them. Leopold had cut her boot free, literally picked her up, and sprinted to safety before cutting the bridge rope.
The bear had plummeted into the gorge below.
“Are you serious? That bear could have eaten us! We could have died!”
“But we didn’t! Is this what you feel like in battle? I love it!”
“You’re insane. I don’t know how anyone can be this attractive and this stupid at the same time.”
We were face to face now, both breathing hard, the tension crackling like lightning. Leopold’s gaze dropped to my lips.
For one breathless moment, I thought he might kiss me. And I realized I wouldn’t stop him.
Chapter 11: The Brother’s Betrayal
They found a camp that evening—but it wasn’t friendly travelers. It was bandits. And their leader was someone Leopold never expected to see again: his own brother, Jeffrey.
He’d recognized me by my hair and the small royal crest I wore.
“I swear, Jeff, if you lay a finger on her, I will rip your head off,” Leopold growled.
“Oh, my brother’s in love. How sweet. Don’t worry, I won’t hurt her. I just need her for leverage—to get the Celestial Crest. I’ll sell it to the highest bidder and finally have the means to buy land, establish myself properly.”
When Jeffrey grabbed my arm, I bit him. Hard. He yelped and released me. Leopold lunged at him, and chaos erupted.
Just when all seemed lost, a familiar voice rang out across the camp.
“About time I found you two.”
Lord Tristan stepped into the clearing, an entire regiment of soldiers at his back.
Chapter 12: The Truth Revealed
Tristan and his army made quick work of the bandits. Jeffrey fled during the chaos, but not before knocking Leopold to the ground. Leopold’s head struck a rock, and he lost consciousness.
They had no choice but to transport him to the nearest safe haven: the Kingdom of Valyria. On the journey, Tristan finally explained everything to Evelyn.
“So you took it yourself?” I asked.
“I moved it to the High Temple of Valyria, where it would be safest. After securing it, I went to track down the group responsible. I just never expected to find Leopold’s own brother leading them.”
“You should have told someone.”
“I needed Leopold with you in case I failed. And there wasn’t time to explain to your father without risking word getting out.”
When they reached Valyria, Leopold was taken to the soldiers’ barracks for treatment. Evelyn wanted desperately to stay by his side, but protocol demanded she stay in the royal quarters where her father was already waiting, relieved but furious about her reckless adventure.
Chapter 13: The Antidote
That night, Rosie appeared in Evelyn’s chambers with news.
I should have felt relieved. The antidote meant Leopold could return to normal. He’d no longer be tormented by feelings the potion had forced upon him.
So why did my chest feel so tight?
“I’ll deliver it to him personally,” I told Rosie. “This is my fault. I owe him that much.”
When Evelyn brought the antidote to Leopold’s room late that night, their conversation was brief and painful. Leopold took the antidote without hesitation, then dismissed her coldly, turning his back and telling her to get some rest.
Evelyn returned to her chambers heartbroken, unable to sleep. She’d realized too late that she had feelings for Leopold—real feelings, not influenced by any potion. And now he was free of the enchantment that had made him care for her.
Chapter 14: The Hidden Confession
The next morning, Evelyn returned to Leopold’s room, determined to confess her feelings even if he didn’t return them. But before she could speak, there was a knock on the door. Leopold made her hide under the bed—improper for a princess to be alone in a guard captain’s chambers.
His friend Garrick entered, asking how Leopold was handling the upcoming royal wedding.
My heart stopped.
“That was just a phase,” Leopold said quickly.
“A phase?” Garrick laughed. “You’ve been in love with the princess since you first laid eyes on her a year ago! You threatened that stable boy because he didn’t fix her harness properly. You can’t walk past lavender without getting emotional because her hair smells like lavender!”
A year. Leopold had loved me for a year.
When Garrick finally left, I crawled out from under the bed.
“You’ve been in love with me since you met me,” I said quietly.
Leopold’s shoulders slumped. “I’d kept my feelings under control. Locked away. But the potion cracked everything open. It magnified what was already there.”
When Evelyn tried to confess her own feelings, Leopold stopped her. He reminded her that Tristan was his best friend, that she was a princess, that he was just a lowly guard captain. They both knew how that story would end.
Evelyn left his chambers with her heart breaking.
Chapter 15: True Love’s Choice
The next morning, as preparations began for the journey home, Tristan found Evelyn in her chambers.
“I’m just tired.”
“Are you sure it’s exhaustion? Or is it being in love with Leopold and not admitting it?”
I stared at him. “Tristan—”
“I saw how you reacted when he was injured. How worried you’ve been. The two of you have always had sparks flying between you.” He smiled sadly. “I deserve someone who feels that strongly about me, don’t you think?”
“You do. More than anyone I know.”
“Now, stop crying and go catch him before he leaves.”
Together, they told her father the truth. The king was furious, but Tristan’s diplomacy prevailed. He assured the king that the alliance between their kingdoms would remain strong, built on genuine friendship and mutual respect rather than a loveless marriage.
It took time, but eventually, the king relented.
“Excuse me, but where do you think you’re going? Last I checked, we were traveling together.”
“What are you doing here?” he asked, confused.
“Trying to make you understand that you’re not getting rid of me in this lifetime. Tristan called off the wedding.”
“What? Why?”
“Because he’s smarter than you, nobler than you, and unlike you, he actually understands that my heart belongs to someone else.”
“Be more specific.”
“What does a lady have to do to get a kiss around here? Do I need another love potion?”
“Don’t even think about it,” he said, pulling me into his arms.
When Leopold kissed me, everything made sense. In that moment, I knew.
It had always been him.
Chapter 16: The Final Entry
The diary entry ended with their kiss, but there was one final page:
We were married this morning in a small ceremony. Father gave his blessing, though grudgingly. Tristan stood as Leopold’s best man and gave the most beautiful speech about true love being worth any sacrifice.
I realize now that the love potion was never necessary. It didn’t create Leopold’s feelings—it only revealed what was already there. And perhaps it did the same for me, forcing me to examine what I truly wanted versus what I thought I should want.
Whoever finds these diaries: Choose love. Not the love others expect of you, but the love that sets your soul on fire. The love that challenges you, terrifies you, and makes you feel more alive than you’ve ever been.
That’s the only kind worth having.
– Lady Evelyn Ashford (soon to be Evelyn Leopold, and quite happy about it)
Epilogue: The Girl in the Attic
I closed the diary as sunlight streamed through the attic window. I’d read through the entire night, completely absorbed in Evelyn’s story.
She’d risked everything for love. Real love. Not the shallow popularity-seeking relationship I’d had with John, but something genuine and deep.
I thought about how devastated I’d been about leaving New York. About missing prom with John Matthews, who—if I was being honest—gave me “the ick” half the time. I’d been so focused on what I was losing that I hadn’t considered what I might be gaining.
Maybe London wasn’t the end of my story. Maybe it was the beginning.
“Sweetheart?” Mom called from downstairs. “Breakfast is ready! And I got you something for your first day at the new school!”
I hurried downstairs, the diary clutched to my chest. Mom stood in the kitchen with a plate of my favorite pancakes and a ridiculous water bottle.
“What’s so special about it?” I asked.
“It has a built-in harmonica. You know, in case you want to convert your dramatic sighs into actual music.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Thanks, Mom. Actually, I like it. And I’m sorry I’ve been sulking so much. I was so stuck on my idea of the perfect life that I didn’t stop to think that maybe change isn’t the worst thing.”
Mom’s eyes widened comically. “Wow. Did an actual teenager just admit she was wrong? Should I write this down?”
“Don’t push it.”
She smiled. “I’m sorry too, sweetheart. For what it’s worth, I think you’ll love it here. You might even find your own John—hopefully a better version.”
“I hope so too. To be honest, John always gave me the ick.”
“The what now?”
“The ick. You know, that feeling when someone does something that just makes you…” I trailed off at her confused expression.
Mom grinned. “Oh, honey, the ick isn’t something new. That phrase has been around for quite a while.”
I glanced at the diary on the counter, thinking of Evelyn using those exact words in 1847.
Some things, I realized, were truly timeless.
Love. Growth. The courage to choose what’s real over what’s easy.
And apparently, the ick.
I smiled and took a bite of pancakes, ready to start my new adventure. Somewhere out there, maybe my own Leopold was waiting.
All I had to do was be brave enough to find him.
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