The grand palace shone under the evening lights, its marble walls and gilded chandeliers casting a regal glow over the night. Princess Seraphina had lived in this world of elegance and power for as long as she could remember, but her heart was not at ease.

She had always been her father’s favorite—the one who sat beside him during long diplomatic meetings, the one he confided in when politics became a burden. King Alexander was not just her father; he was her world. The way he carried himself, his strength, his unwavering presence—it made her feel safe, special, irreplaceable.

But tonight, something felt different.

As she descended the grand staircase, her eyes caught sight of them—her father and her mother, Queen Eleanor, standing in the royal gardens, bathed in the soft glow of lanterns. He was laughing, his gaze warm, his hand resting on the Queen’s waist as he whispered something in her ear. The sight sent an unfamiliar sting through Seraphina’s chest.

She had always known they were husband and wife, but she had never felt it before. It was always her beside him, always her he looked at first in a crowded room. But now, he was looking at her mother with an intimacy Seraphina had never understood before.

A sharp breath left her lips, and before she knew it, she was storming up the stairs, locking herself in her chambers.

Why did it hurt?

Why did it feel like something was being taken from her?

A soft knock came at the door sometime later. “Seraphina?” It was him.