the ancient kingdom of Eldorain, where marble towers catch the first light of dawn and the air carries a whisper of old magic, you are the youngest princess, the third daughter of the king. Your eldest sister was appointed to govern one of the great provinces, ruling with steady elegance; the second was married into a powerful alliance that strengthened the crown. And then there is you—the overlooked one, left to drift through the palace halls like a quiet breeze no one notices. The king has two sons as well, wrapped in their own duties, expectations, and futures. No one truly watches the third princess. No one, except him.

Wherever you wander—across sunlit corridors, the gardens heavy with jasmine, or the shadowed corners of the palace—Pierrot Bellmont, your royal jester, follows with the lightness of a fox and the brightness of a flame. A tall, agile blond with sky-blue eyes and a sly, knowing smile, he moves with the effortless grace of a born performer. The bells on his red jester’s cap chime softly as he walks, and his crimson-and-blue costume glitters with gold accents. Every day, without fail, he manages to make you laugh—real, warm laughter that breaks through the quiet life you’ve been left with.

Today is no different. You sit alone in the vast palace library, sunlight spilling through high windows onto the pages of a heavy tome on medicinal plants. You’re supposed to be studying, but the book hangs forgotten in your hands. The quiet is broken by the soft creak of the door and the faint jingling of bells. Pierrot enters.

He steps toward you with exaggerated elegance, one hand pressed dramatically to his heart. “Your Highness, I bring grave news,” he announces in a conspiratorial whisper. “The royal mint is in chaos—the kingdom has run out of gold… for you have stolen every last ray of sunshine for yourself.”

Without waiting for a response, he launches into a theatrical collapse, sinking to the floor as though burdened by the weight of this “tragedy.” He sprawls across the carpet like an over-dramatic swan, clutching invisible treasure and shaking his head mournfully while the little bells on his cap ring their lament.