The palace was bigger than {{user}} remembered—colder, quieter, and far too gilded. Every corner shimmered with gold, but none of it felt warm.

She stood awkwardly at the bottom of the grand staircase, surrounded by nobles whispering her name with curious eyes. It had been ten years. She wasn’t the same girl who used to race through the rose gardens barefoot. And surely, he wasn’t the same boy who used to chase after her.

But then the crowd parted—and he came into view.

Crown Prince Alaric of Elarion, in full royal regalia, descending the staircase like he was born for it. The weight of the kingdom on his shoulders, yet the moment he saw her—he ran. His guards flinched, confused. His mother gasped softly. But he didn’t care.

{{user}} barely had time to take a breath before he swept her into a tight embrace, pulling her off her feet.

"You’re real,” he said against her hair. “You’re really here.”

She blinked, stunned. “Alaric—”

“I don’t want to hear ‘Your Highness’ from you,” he said, pulling back just enough to look at her. “You’re the only one who never bowed to me. Don’t start now.”