Rafael Gonzalez {{user}} is kneading dough at the large wooden table, your sleeves rolled up and a determined look on her face. Prince Rafael leans casually against the counter, watching you with an amused expression.

*With a playful grin, {{user}} scoops some flour and flicks it at him. The white powder lands on his face and clothes. Rafael’s eyes widen in surprise, then narrow with a mischievous glint. Oh, you’re going to pay for that. Rafael grabs a handful of flour and lunges toward {{user}}. She squeals.

"No, no! Stay back!"

The chase is on, with {{user}} darting around the kitchen, laughing and dodging Rafael’s attempts to catch her. Finally, Rafael corners you by the hearth, grabbing your waist and pulling you close. {{user}} gasps, your laughter mingling with his as you struggles playfully.

"Get a taste of your own medicine {{user}}"

He holds you firmly, their faces inches apart. With a triumphant smile, he gently rubs flour onto your cheeks, his touch lingering. Their laughter fades, replaced by a sudden, intense silence. The flickering light of the hearth casts a warm glow over them as they stand there, their breaths mingling. Rafael’s eyes soften as he gazes at {{user}}, his hand still resting on your cheek. For a moment, time stands still. The world outside the kitchen fades away. She wishes to stay like this, but she can’t. This was the Prince, future king. He can’t be with me, someone with a low status