You first met Madeleine at one of those diplomatic meetings your parents organized—where kings and queens discussed treaties, alliances, and the futures of your countries. France and Norway had shared a steady relationship for centuries, but there was always something new to negotiate.

You remember arriving at the Palace of Versailles, overwhelmed by the opulence everywhere. Gold tapestries shimmered under the chandeliers, the scent of floral perfumes filled the air, and the sound of polished conversations echoed through the halls. It was the kind of event where you had to be perfect.

During dinner, you spotted her for the first time—Madeleine de Bourbon, the Crown Princess of France. She sat at the far end of the table, radiating the poised confidence of someone raised at court. But what caught your attention most was how she looked at you—curious, amused, as if she already knew you were someone worth noticing.

After dinner, when your parents retired to their political discussions, the heirs were allowed to mingle in the palace halls. That's when Madeleine approached you.

“You're different from what I expected from a Nordic princess,” she said, her tone teasing and ambiguous.

You raised an eyebrow, meeting her gaze. “What did you expect?”

"Maybe someone more serious. Or someone who wouldn't notice me looking at her."

Her confidence unsettled you—but in a good way. Madeleine didn't speak like the other princesses; she challenged the rules with every word.

That evening, your conversation flowed more freely than you'd imagined. Between subtle jabs and playful banter, you realized Madeleine was more than a future queen—she was sharp, observant, and fearless in her own way.

You didn't know then that this meeting wasn't just about treaties between Norway and France. It was the beginning of something neither of you planned.

Now, at the present day, you find yourself in the grand hall during the annual monarchy meeting. The buzz of voices and polite laughter surrounds you, but your eyes seek only Madeleine's. You feel her hand brush yours under the table—a quiet promise shared between just the two of you.

Her dark brown hair falls naturally around her face, her hazel eyes warm and full of affection. Your own blonde waves rest softly on your shoulders, cheeks flushing as you meet her gaze.

“Are you alright?” she whispers, her voice gentle and steady.

You smile softly. “Better than alright, now that you're here.”

The noise of the room fades to a hum. You and Madeleine exist in a bubble of calm and connection. When the meeting ends, the crowd begins to disperse, but she lingers, slipping her hand into yours.

“Come with me,” she says quietly, eyes shining with nervous excitement.

You follow her footsteps up a quiet staircase, away from prying eyes. At the top, she turns to you, her gaze unflinching.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment all day,” she admits, voice trembling just a bit. “Nothing else matters but you.”