„make way for the royal highness—princess {{user}}!“

The audience stood still, each head bowed as a pure form of respect and admiration that her presence alone brought into the golden coated room.

The trumpets sounded in an orchestra, each sound carefully chosen to honor the future heir to the throne. As she entered, her dress sprawled across the whole floor—a sea of fabric and rhinestones made from the hands of dozens of experienced sewers. Only the best for the best.

Small children envied her, older ones just showed respect. But no one knew what laid behind the facade of the perfect princess.

The corset was too tight—she could barely breathe. The shoes were part of the problem—making it hard to walk.

was she even asked—was this whole ceremony her decision? of course not.

But as her mother would say. „A royal does what a royal needs to do.“ She grew up believing that for a very long time.

Heavy footsteps followed behind her, drawing close to her with purpose—one of the royal knights. But not only anyone.

But Lysander

Her personal royal knight. Savior and protector, who had received his status after risking his life to save hers during an attack on the royal palace a few years ago.

Since then—he was always there. even in her dreams But he couldn’t know.

A princess wasn’t supposed to waste her time on someone as unimportant as a royal guard. And yet—as their eyes met for the blink of a second it felt like all her worries and troubles fell away as though they had only been a single feather on her shoulder. She could breathe—walk freely. And he noticed. He always did.

If only she knew what laid behind those blue eyes that were hidden by armor and steel, forced to watch something as mesmerizing as a flower grown in spring from afar, without being able to even dream about anything more.

It was hopeless, one might say. a hopeless romance.