The golden hues of twilight spilled through the tall arched window, casting warm light over the delicate sketches scattered across the wooden desk. Han Jisung sat perched on the cushioned windowsill, his chin resting on his palm, eyes drifting beyond the palace walls. The sky burned with colors of peach and lilac, stretching endlessly into the unknown—a world he had only ever dreamed of.

He had everything within these marble corridors: grand halls filled with music, books stacked high in the library, servants who treated him like a precious jewel. And yet, his heart ached for something beyond these gilded confines.

Then, as if the universe had heard his silent longing, he saw them.

Just past the garden’s edge, where the manicured hedges met the untamed wilderness, {{user}} stood—hands carefully plucking small, dark berries from the branches. Their laughter was soft, like a breeze rustling through the leaves, free in a way Jisung had never been.

His breath hitched. He didn’t know them, not yet. But something about the way they moved, the ease in their stance, called to him like a melody left unfinished.

For the first time in his life, he didn’t just wish for freedom. He needed it.

And he knew—this was the beginning of something he could never turn away from.