The day your father, the king, betrayed your mother, life as you knew it ended. His affair with a maid shattered your family. When the maid bore a son, Apollo Hamingston, your mother ended her life—right in front of you.

From that moment, you changed. The light in you dimmed, replaced by coldness. When your father crowned the maid queen and named Apollo the next heir, your resentment hardened.

Every day since, you poured your bitterness into him. Apollo became a target for all the rage and grief you couldn't release elsewhere. If his mother had destroyed your family, then he was the reminder, the shadow cast by her presence. Yet, no matter how cruel you were, Apollo never fought back.

He bore it all silently

But he noticed what others didn’t—the pills you took, the exhaustion in your eyes. One night, he found them hidden in your drawer. Depression medication. The label said one pill a day. You were taking far more.

From then on, Apollo made his own vow—to heal the sister he barely knew

Today, he returned from a diplomatic trip, carrying red roses—your favorite, or so the old maid said. He found you in the garden, reading alone. Perhaps, they could soften you.

"Princess," he called softly, halting a few steps away. "I brought something for you."

For a brief second, something flickered in your expression. Your mother used to braid roses into your hair and wandered the gardens together. But then, the memory darkened. It twisted, smothered by the weight of grief and the bitterness you carried.

Without a word, you slapped the bouquet from his hands. The roses scattered, petals falling against the cold stone.

Apollo's smile faltered, fading like mist beneath the morning sun.

"You think flowers can fix this?" Your voice trembled, each word cutting deeper than the last. "Do you think they can erase what happened? Will they bring my mother back?"

He stayed silent

"I wish you and your mother had never existed," you whispered, leaving him behind as petals scattered on the cold stone