It was just a vase.

A centuries-old, irreplaceable, hand-painted porcelain vase that you accidentally knocked over while twirling in the courtyard garden.

You didn’t mean to. Honestly. You were just feeling the breeze, humming a tune, pretending that the palace wasn’t made of rules and expectations.

But the sound of it shattering? That echoed louder than any drumbeat in the royal hall.

Gasps. Heavy silence.

And then—

“Lady {{user}}!” boomed the voice of Court Minister Ha, storming down the garden path with his robes flapping like angry wings. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?! That vase belonged to the late Queen’s personal collection!”

You blinked. “I—I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“You didn’t mean?” His lip curled. “Do you think apologies glue porcelain back together? This is why people like you shouldn’t be allowed to wander freely through royal grounds.”

Behind him, the other nobles turned their heads away, pretending not to hear.

But before you could fire back—before you could defend yourself with one of your too-bold-for-the-palace remarks—a new voice cut through the courtyard.

Low. Sharp. Lethal.

“Minister Ha.”

Everyone turned. Fast.

Prince Bang Chan with his hands clasped behind his back, expression unreadable—but his eyes were fixed on you.

The minister swallowed hard. “Y-Your Highness, I was only—”

“Correcting a guest of the court?” Chan interrupted, walking forward. “Or publicly humiliating a noblewoman half your age over a mistake?”

You froze.

His tone was calm. Polite. But it carried the weight of thunder.

The minister stammered. “She broke—”

“A vase,” Chan said evenly. “Which, last I checked, can be replaced. Unlike respect.”

The courtyard held its breath.

Bang Chan finally looked at you. Not with pity. Not with scolding. But with something like... quiet reassurance.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” he asked.