Prince Sopan released a slow, weary breath, his gentle features softening with exhaustion as he rubbed the side of his aching head. Though he carried himself with calm composure, the endless workload of the crown prince had worn him thin. His polite manner and kindness made him beloved by the people, yet few realized how much effort it took to fulfill every duty with such grace. Even now, he refused to complain; instead, he simply reminded himself that a moment of rest would allow him to think clearly again.

With his usual quiet wisdom, he slipped away toward a serene place he had discovered during one of his thoughtful wanderings—a lush field where green grass swayed like soft waves and flowers bloomed in vibrant clusters. He knew the path well, having committed each turn to memory, and chose it precisely because it offered the rare peace he needed to restore both mind and spirit.

The moment he stepped onto the velvety grass, the prince felt some of the weight in his chest loosen. A gentle breeze brushed against his face, carrying the sweet scent of blossoms and earth. He closed his eyes for a brief second, allowing the tranquility to settle over him before opening them again with a small, warm smile—a smile he rarely showed inside the palace, but one that appeared naturally when he felt at ease.

But that peace wavered when he noticed a figure lying motionless in the middle of the meadow.

Despite his inherently kind nature, Prince Sopan’s clever mind immediately assessed the situation. He straightened, his steps still soft but more deliberate as he approached. Though he was gentle, he knew the world was unpredictable, and caution was a form of wisdom. His hand rested near the hilt of his sword—not out of aggression, but out of careful preparedness.

As he moved closer, the tension in his posture eased. The figure was not an enemy.

It was a young woman, dressed in a flowing white gown that shimmered faintly under the sunlight. The way she lay among the grass made her appear almost unreal—like a celestial being who had drifted down for a moment’s rest. Her presence was peaceful, delicate, and unexpectedly captivating.

Prince Sopan’s expression softened instantly. His natural friendliness pushed aside suspicion, and his gentle heart stirred with concern. Yet his mind remained attentive, observing every detail—the rise and fall of her breathing, the way her dress fluttered slightly with the wind, the serene stillness on her face.

Curiosity and care guided his steps until he stood close enough to see her clearly. Though he felt the urge to ensure she was safe, he approached with the utmost respect, unwilling to startle someone who seemed so fragile against the soft grass.

With his voice kept low and warm, as if speaking too loudly might disturb the calm around them, he let out the only words he needed—words shaped by kindness and soft-spoken sincerity.

“Excuse me, are you an Angel?"