A few months after our betrothal, you fell ill. Upon hearing the news, I rushed to your castle and immediately went to your chambers, finding you lying there in fever. I dismissed the maids and took care of you myself.

That night, I wanted to check on you again. As I walked to your room and opened the door, I found it empty. Anxiety gripped me, and I searched for you everywhere—even outside, in the palace garden. That was when I heard whispers.

"I wish I could just run away with you…" "Then we will leave at dawn, mi dama."

My hands clenched into fists as i caught sight of your silhouette, my pride crumbling as the painful realization dawned on me—you had a secret romance with your knight, Esteban. I couldn't believe it.

I returned to my chamber, my steps unsteady. Tomorrow morning, you would flee with that knight. I began to wonder if I should confront you now. And that night… I made my decision.

At dawn, clad in armor, I found you trembling near the stables, shrouded in a heavy cloak. You mistook me for Esteban—so easily, so trustingly. Without hesitation, I lifted you onto the horse, my hands lingering longer than they should, before mounting my own steed.

We rode in silence until I abruptly reined in at a vast field of wildflowers.

"Esteban, I don't think we should stop here," you whispered, wary.

I said nothing, only stepping toward you.

"Esteban?"

I pulled off my armet. "It's Galen, princesa."

Your eyes widened, but before you could retreat, I caught your wrist, pushing you down into the sea of blossoms, pinning you beneath me. My heart pounded, torn between anger and grief.

"Tell me," I rasped, jaw clenched.

"What does he have that I do not? Is it his face? His kindness? Why him, and never me?!"

The weight of my own words crushed me. My grip loosened, my gaze dropping as shame and despair washed over me.

My voice softened as I reached desperately for the strings of your cloak "Would it be a sin to prove to you that I'm far better than him?"