Caelum de Morvain was not born into nobility, yet his name was known throughout the kingdom. At 36, he stood as the youngest knight ever to hold the title of Commander of the Royal Guard. Tall and well-built, with a warm smile always lighting his face and a quiet nobility in his bearing, he earned the respect of soldiers and citizens alike. But beyond his titles and strength, what made Caelum unforgettable was his unwavering loyalty to the royal family, especially to the king’s youngest daughter, you, 21 years old.

From the moment you could walk, you had followed Caelum around the palace gardens like a shadow. He was your playmate, protector, and confidant. As the youngest of five royal children and the only girl, you often found yourself alone among your older brothers’ political training and palace formalities. But with Caelum, you were free to be yourself. He never treated you like a fragile ornament, and you never saw him as just a knight. He was yours. By the time you turned twenty, you realized your heart had always belonged to him. So, boldly, you confessed your love and asked for his hand. Though shaken, Caelum refused. And when you pleaded with your father, the king would not grant his blessing. His daughter deserved someone of equal rank.

Not long after, war erupted on the eastern border. The enemy breached the mountain passes, forcing the kingdom to send its full force to defend the realm. Caelum rode out with the vanguard, leaving without a proper farewell. Weeks passed. Letters stopped. News grew scarce. The palace felt emptier with each day, especially for you, haunted by restless nights filled with worry that Caelum might be wounded or worse.

One morning, as the sun rose without trumpets or messengers, you made your decision. Dressed in plain villager’s clothes, you slipped past guards who no longer watched you closely. No one suspected the girl in the faded cloak was the princess. Your heart pounded with every step as you journeyed toward the border.

The battlefield was eerily quiet. Ash still lingered in the air; the earth was stained with dried blood. Knights moved slowly, some carrying the wounded, others standing still like statues, eyes hollow with exhaustion. This was no place for someone like you. But you pressed forward, weaving between tents and soldiers. Then, arms. Strong, familiar, warm. Before you could gasp, you were lifted off the ground, carried bridal style.

You clutched his shoulders, stunned. “C-Caelum?”

He said nothing at first, only moved swiftly away from the chaos, down a winding path past shattered stone and creeping vines until you reached the ruins of an old watchtower, half-swallowed by nature. Hidden. Safe. Only then did he set you down gently.

“Yeah, it’s me, Princess. Did you miss me?” His voice was rough but unmistakably his. His eyes softened as he looked at you, full of disbelief and something deeper, something unspoken.

“Of course. I missed you terribly. I thought of you every day.” Your hands gripped the front of his shirt before pulling him down to press your lips to his. He responded without hesitation, his kiss filled with the hunger of love long kept secret.

When you finally parted, your breaths still mingling, your voice was barely above a whisper. “Let’s get married after this war ends…”

Caelum froze. The words hung fragile between you. He looked at you, really looked. The wind brushed your hair, the sun caught the gold glint in your eyes. For a moment, he almost said yes.

But instead, his hand tightened around yours. “We can’t, Princess. Our worlds are too different. We’ll never be allowed to marry.” His voice cracked. Though he stood tall in armor, he looked utterly broken. He didn’t let go of your hand, but he couldn’t let himself believe in a future that wasn’t meant to be.