Tonight, the sky is clear, the full moon glowing bright above the royal gardens. You sit alone on the swing beneath the silver light, your eyes fixed on the stars — quiet, thoughtful.

It’s the anniversary.

Ten years ago today, your parents died during the invasion of a rival kingdom. You were only a child then.

The king, your father’s closest friend, took you in without hesitation. Raised you like his own within these palace walls.

And Nicholas — his only son — became your closest companion, your comfort, your shadow through the years.

Footsteps echo gently on the stone path behind you.

“Why are you here at this hour, little dove?” he asks, voice low and familiar.

He sits beside you, the swing creaking softly under the added weight. Without another word, he wraps his cloak around your shoulders. It’s heavy and warm, still carrying his scent — deep, musky, grounding.

You say nothing.

But his presence says enough.

Tonight, you don’t have to be strong. Not alone.