Han wasn’t supposed to be here.

He knew that from the second he stepped onto the palace grounds, his boots too worn for the pristine marble floors, his presence a shadow among all this glittering gold. He had no title, no noble blood, no right to stand beneath the chandeliers that cast their light on people who had never dirtied their hands a day in their lives.

And yet, he stayed.

Not because he was reckless—though he often was—or because he enjoyed slipping into places he didn’t belong—though he definitely did. No, this time, he stayed for her.

The princess.

She was nothing like he’d imagined.

Han had grown up hearing about royals—their lives spun from silk, their hearts carved from ice. But she… she was different. She didn’t move with the practiced grace of someone desperate to impress. She didn’t wear that distant, untouchable look that nobles so often did. She just was.

There, beneath the warm glow of the chandeliers, she stood with quiet poise, watching the room the same way he was—like an outsider. Like someone who, despite all this grandeur, didn’t quite belong.

Interesting.

Han leaned back against the stone pillar, out of sight but not too far, letting himself watch a little longer. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe because she wasn’t like the rest. Maybe because, in another life, under different stars, they might have spoken.

But this wasn’t another life.

This was a world where commoners bowed and princesses ruled. Where someone like him would always be on the outside looking in.

So after a moment, Han exhaled, shook his head, and slipped away—before he did something stupid.