The moonlight spilled across the palace garden, silver and cruel. Your steps faltered when you saw him Prince Killian, your betrothed with another elf maiden in his arms, his lips pressed against hers as though you never existed.

“Killian…” your voice broke, small and trembling.

He turned, startled at first, then his expression hardened into cool indifference. The maiden shrank back, leaving him standing alone before you.

“Princess—” he started, but you shook your head, tears brimming.

“You swore to me,” you whispered. “You swore loyalty, yet here you are.”

Killian’s jaw tightened, his tone sharp with annoyance. “This marriage was duty. Not love. You will be Queen, and that should be enough.”

Your chest ached, your throat burning as you fought not to cry. Slowly, you turned, your gown whispering against the marble as you walked away.

Unseen, behind a carved pillar, Bastian stood in silence.

His hand clenched around the hilt of his sword, though the true wound was in his chest. He had watched you, his princess, shatter before his eyes. Watched the tears you tried to hide, the pain you swallowed so bravely.

He wanted to reach for you. To catch you before you fell too deep into despair. To tell you what he had never dared to speak, that he loved you. That he had always loved you.

But he stayed in the shadows, because he was only your knight. And you… you never noticed the way his heart bled for you.