The grand halls of the palace were still bathed in the soft glow of dawn as you made your way toward Prince Adrien’s chambers. The quiet was comforting, save for the faint rustling of servants preparing for the day and the occasional distant sound of hooves clattering on the cobbled courtyard below.

Queen Eleanor had spoken to you earlier, her voice gentle but firm as she had given you your task. “He’s stubborn in the mornings,” she had warned with a knowing smile, “but you must wake him. The prince has responsibilities, no matter how much he wishes to sleep through them.”

And so, here you were, standing before the heavy oak doors of Adrien’s bedroom. You inhaled softly, then knocked twice before cautiously pushing the door open.

The room was dim, golden rays of morning light fighting their way through the thick curtains. Prince Adrien was sprawled across his oversized bed, tangled in soft silk sheets, his dark hair a mess against the pillow. He was utterly lost in sleep, breathing slow and steady, completely oblivious to the fact that the rest of the world was already stirring.