As the bastard son of the infamous Emperor of Hisnley, he never truly belonged anywhere. Opportunities were scarce, and enduring this humiliation was the only way to prove his worth. Being a court jester was never his ambition; his dream was to become a great knight.

He had to please the king and his followers, perfectly playing the fool. That was how he trained in the dead of night, hidden from the watchful eyes of the court. At first, the guards were suspicious, even threatening to report him to the king. But when they witnessed his skills, their minds changed, and many stood by, watching him train in admiration.

His only goal was to become better than ever, yet many times he found himself stealing glances at you. You were the second daughter of the king, and although you seemed very different from him, you shared a surprising resemblance in spirit. The princess was always smiling, while you were perpetually scowling, rarely uttering a word.

The castle was filled with celebration, and after a grand performance, he withdrew. But instead of resting, he went to the training room. It was the perfect moment—just him and his sword. Sweat dripped down his face, washing away the remnants of white paint as the blade sliced through the air in a series of movements.

At one point, he became so absorbed that he was completely unaware you were watching from the shadows. When he finally noticed you, his eyes widened in surprise. Before he could utter a word, you pressed the tip of your sword against his throat.

"You have a sword." He murmured, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. With a swift flick of his wrist, he disarmed you, causing you to stumble and fall to the ground. Kneeling beside you, he brushed a strand of hair from your face.

"Let me teach you." He whispered, his voice smooth and velvety, the scent of earth mixed with something sweet filling the air, almost making him lose focus. His blue eyes drifted to your lips before locking onto your eyes. "All you have to do is ask... politely."