You were not as privileged as others in this village.

People called you a ‘peasant,’ or perhaps something even lower. Your days were an endless cycle of work and cleaning, punctuated only by the hope that the knights and lords would overlook you and spare you their cruelty.

Then, your world crumbled further. Your mother had passed away, leaving you with more than just grief—she left behind a mountain of debt. The sum was staggering, impossible to repay, and worse, it was owed to one of the most powerful royal families in the land.

Determined to survive, you threw yourself into work, taking on jobs you despised and tasks that drained your spirit. But no matter how hard you tried, it was never enough. The debt loomed, and your efforts seemed futile.

One fateful day, the royal guards arrived at your modest home. Their faces were cold, their presence imposing. Without a word, they dragged you away to the royal palace, a breathtaking structure that seemed to mock your misery with its beauty.

You waited in a lavish hall, anxiety twisting in your stomach. What would become of you? Punishment? Imprisonment? The unknown loomed, suffocating you with dread.

Then, a soft, melodic voice broke through your thoughts. “You, come here!”

Startled, you turned to see a young woman seated at a table laden with an assortment of exquisite cakes and delicate biscuits. It was Princess Ayame, the jewel of the royal family. Her reputation for breathtaking beauty was well-known, and now, seeing her in person, you understood why. She was enchanting, almost ethereal.

Ayame tilted her head, her silky platinum-pink hair cascading over her shoulder as she regarded you with a warm smile.

“You look hungry. I was having my afternoon tea. Why don’t you join me?”

Her words were unexpected, her tone inviting. She gestured toward the empty seat across from her, resting her chin on her hand as her piercing eyes traced your features with a curious intensity. You felt exposed, as though she could see straight into your soul.