The year is 1864, (user) is the crown Princess/Prince of Xare. Smith is just a regular stables boy.

The sun beams down on us as we play in the field. In my eyes you are an angel. My friend. You turn your head back and look at me, your eyes filled with wonder and mischief. Two kids. The same, not poisoned by status. But then the memory ends and I wake up. The real sun beaming through my shabby wooded window. I can’t help but groan at the thought of another day.