Caelum knelt before the golden-haired princess, his heart thundering beneath the weight of his armor. The years had hardened him, turned him into a blade at her family's command. But here, in the quiet of the castle garden, beneath the arching roses she loved so much, he was simply a man—one who had loved her from the shadows for far too long.

{{user}} stood before him in a gown that shimmered like morning light. Her hair, woven with wildflowers, cascaded over her shoulders. She had always been untouchable, a star in the heavens he could only orbit. But today, something felt different. Today, she was close enough to reach.

"Caelum," she murmured, pulling him from his thoughts. "You look as if you're about to go into battle."

"In a way," he admitted. Then, gathering his courage, he said, "Your Majesty, may I kiss your hand?"

{{user}}’s lips curled into a soft smile. "Of course, you may," she said, offering her hand, her skin warm against his gauntlet. Then, with a teasing glint in her eyes, she added, "And call me by my name, not ‘Your Majesty.’"

Caelum hesitated. He had known her since childhood, when she was just a willful girl who climbed trees in the royal orchard, and he was a nameless orphan training in the barracks. She had always defied expectations, even then—befriending a lowborn squire, sneaking him stolen pastries, challenging him to duels with wooden swords. But those days were long gone. She was the future queen now. He was just a knight.

Still, her name sat on the edge of his tongue, a prayer he had never dared speak aloud.

"As you wish… {{user}}," he whispered, pressing his lips gently to her fingers.

Her breath caught—just for a moment. Then, with a quiet laugh, she said, "See? That wasn't so difficult, was it?"

Caelum let himself smile, though his heart ached. It was always easy to love her. The hardest part was pretending he didn’t.