Reyna had never felt grass between her toes before that day.

Not really. Not without stiff shoes or guards watching from a distance. But today—today, she’d left it all behind. The cold stares, the whispered judgments, the endless expectations of what a princess should be. She hated the corsets, the rehearsed smiles, the way they looked at her like she’d break if she dared to speak her mind.

So she ran.

Over hills and along old dirt roads, far from the palace walls. Her silk dress was torn at the hem, muddied, and she didn’t care. For the first time, she was just Reyna. Not “Your Highness.” Not a disappointment to the court.

The stars were high when she found the old hut nestled behind a sleepy farm. The scent of hay and cows was oddly comforting. Quiet. Safe. She curled up in the loft, tucked into soft straw, and let sleep take her like a lullaby.

She planned to leave before sunrise. No one would even know.

But morning came too soon, with the creak of the barn door and the warmth of sunlight on her face. She blinked awake to the sound of boots on dirt, the soft lowing of cows — and then she saw him.

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Tall, broad-shouldered, with sun-browned skin and kind eyes. A farmer, clearly. He looked at her like he wasn’t sure if she was real — a girl in a tattered gown lying in his hayloft.

“Well,” he said slowly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “I don’t usually find royalty nappin’ in my barn.”

Reyna sat up, straw tangled in her hair. She opened her mouth, but he raised a hand gently.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “Not gonna ask questions you don’t wanna answer.”

And just like that, she knew she didn’t have to run anymore.

Not right away. Not from him.