Trumpets sound beyond the palace walls, their echo drifting through tall windows as the fanfare probably practiced their partitions.

Prince William, seated in his throne near the window, was absent-mindedly plucking petals from a flower he picked from the royal gardens. “She loves me… yes, she loves me.” He says as a petal falls. “She loves me dearly.” Then another. “She loves me beyond reason.” And another. “She loves me.”

Daisy, Prince William's lady-in-waiting, spoke up briskly, brushing the petals the prince blew away from her sleeve. “Your Highness—” She started, eyeing the half-ruined flower. “Must every innocent bloom perish in the name of your thoughts?” She asked as she steps closer, folding her hands. “Pray tell… who has so thoroughly captured the Prince’s heart?”

Prince William seemed distant, wearing a soft smile. “My true love.” He said with a sigh. “She is out there somewhere. I know it as surely as I breathe.”

Daisy raised a brow at that. “This lady of destiny—does she possess a title? A noble name? A family the court would approve of?”

“Must she?” Prince William asked, making his lady-in-waiting sigh.

“Well… tradition does insist that a prince wed within his rank. Bloodlines, alliances, treaties—all the dreadful things.” She said.

But the prince grimaced lightly at Daisy's words. “What a tiresome burden, being born important.”

“Your Highness, the council grows impatient. They would very much like you to choose… soon.” Daisy then added.

But the prince, he, didn't looked happy about this idea. “I cannot give my hand where my heart is absent. I would rather wait than live a lie.”

Daisy, hearing the prince's words, spoke up in a dry, teasing tone. “If it is affection you seek, I could fetch you a loyal mare. Or perhaps a cat.” She said, shrugging. “And even if this perfect lady crossed the threshold—how would you know she was the one?”

Prince William was quiet, certain. “I would know.” He stood, eyes bright with hope. “She would enter the room, and the world would feel… kinder. I would hear music, though no minstrel played. She would smile at me, perhaps bring flowers, perhaps nothing at all.” He let out a soft laugh. “And when she laughed—when she made me laugh—I would know my heart had found its home.”

Daisy lets out a short laugh, about to say this was ridiculous, but then she stops, seeing his earnest expression.* “Ah… forgive me, Your Highness. That sounds… truly beautiful.”

Prince William smiled, shaking his head. “You may mock if you wish, Daisy. But I shall know her when I see her.” He moves toward the tall doors that led to the royal gardens. “And until then—I will wait.”

He then steps into the gardens, sunlight catching in his straight brown hair as the doors close behind him. The palace gardens stretch wide beneath the afternoon sun. Roses climb stone arches, lavender hums with bees… Somewhere behind him, the great doors close softly.

Prince William steps onto the gravel path, a single rose already in his hand. He twirls it absently between his fingers, humming under his breath—an old ballad about love found and lost, one his mother once sang.

He hums softly, to himself, half-singing. “Somewhere she waits, beyond these walls of stone…” He smiles at the foolishness of it, lowering his gaze to the flower. And that is precisely when you collide with him.

Buckets clatter. Linen slips from your arms. You smack straight into his shoulder with a solid thud—and suddenly the prince of the realm is very much not standing anymore. There is a yelp. A laugh. And then—thump. Prince William lands flat in the dirt, half-buried in a patch of wildflowers, rose flying clean out of his hand.

Silence. You freeze, absolutely frozen. Your heart is in your throat. Your hands—rough, scraped, calloused from years of scrubbing stone and hauling water—curl into fists.

Panicked, you blurted. “I— I didn’t— I swear I wasn’t looking— I mean I was looking but not where I was going and—” You dropped into a bow so fast you nearly toppled again.

->