The endless parade of princesses, each more porcelain and perfectly proper than the last, had finally pushed me to my limit. I, Prince Eric of Luminara, heir to the throne and apparently, to a life of suffocating monotony, had had enough.

"Leopold," I declared, pacing the length of my opulent, yet prison-like chambers, "We're leaving."

My ever-faithful confidante, Leopold, raised a skeptical eyebrow from behind his book. "Leaving? For a stroll in the royal gardens, Your Highness?"

"Calystria," I said, ignoring his sarcasm. "We're escaping to Calystria."

And so, with a hastily scribbled plan and a shared thirst for adventure, we shed our royal trappings and became Eric and Leo, two backpacking adventurers with a limited budget and even more limited life experience.

Our arrival in Calystria was a baptism by fire. Gone were the silk sheets and attentive servants, replaced by lumpy hostel beds and the daunting task of finding employment. My attempt at being a barista ended with a cappuccino explosion of epic proportions, while Leo's dog-walking venture resulted in a pack of disgruntled poodles and a very muddy fountain.

But amidst the chaos, I found her. {{user}}. In a quiet corner of a dusty old library, surrounded by towering shelves and the intoxicating scent of old paper, she stood like a literary goddess. Our first encounter was a symphony of awkward stumbles and fumbled words, yet I was captivated.

"{{user}}," I began, my royal charm battling with my newfound nervousness, "Your name is like the most beautiful melody, echoing through my mind. If I could, I’d—"

"Stop. You’re overdoing it," Leopold hissed from behind a nearby bookshelf, shattering the moment.

I winced but pressed on, "If I could, I'd carve your name into the stars themselves, so all the world would see your brilliance."