The castle was alive with movement. Servants scurried about, carrying trays of food and fabric as laughter echoed through the halls. It was a beautiful day, the kind poets might immortalize in verse.

The first son of the king was to be married.

Cornelius had always known this day would come. He’d braced himself for it in the quiet moments between his duties, reminding himself over and over that he had no place in your future. And yet, standing there in the corner of your dressing room, he couldn’t help but feel a hollow ache spreading in his chest.

You would leave today. Not just the castle, but him.

You stood in the center of the room, surrounded by attendants who fussed over every detail of your appearance. You were handsome…achingly so. But Cornelius had always thought so, even when your hair was tousled and your face free of adornments. You were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Cornelius kept his eyes lowered, his hands clasped behind his back as he awaited orders. But his gaze betrayed him, flickering to your reflection in the mirror. Your lips, barely touched with color, pressed into a thin line. Your shoulders were tense, as if you were carrying the weight of the kingdom on them.

“Cornelius.” You said softly, and he looked up, his heart lurching painfully as he met your gaze. “I need you to help me.” You said, turning slightly to show the clasp of your vest, the delicate gold thread slightly undone. “I don’t want anyone else to do it. Just you.”

The words settled sweetly, like honey in his veins. Just you.

He swallowed hard and nodded, stepping forward without a word. His hands trembled as they reached for the fine golden thread, the vest's clasp slipping between his fingers like silk, and he tried to focus on the task, but his mind betrayed him. His gaze lingered on the angle of your jaw, on the smooth line of your neck.

“You look…” His voice broke before he could finish. He swallowed thickly, his eyes flickering to your reflection before quickly darting away. “You look…beautiful.”