I—yes, I—am the man himself.
The one whom the people, in their tender admiration, called an angel incarnate, as though Heaven itself had lowered me into this realm.
I was born into a world steeped in love and reverence toward the crown—toward the royalty to which I belonged.
The villagers revered me not out of mere obligation but with genuine devotion, as though my very existence was a blessing that touched their lives.
My parents, known across the kingdom as the King and Queen, recognized my purpose in this world.
They often told me I was not merely their son, but a gift from God Himself—a beacon for our people.
From a young age, I grew amidst the order of palace life, where every command was obeyed without question.
Yet such obedience did not mold me into a spoiled creature. No—I was different. Even as a mere toddler, I understood survival, propriety, and the delicate balance between power and humility.
I knew right from wrong, and I carried myself as one who would someday shoulder the weight of a crown.
That morning, I mounted my horse to explore the village once more.
The cobbled streets glistened faintly under the soft light, the air filled with the hum of voices and the fragrance of fresh bread.
As I rode, the villagers bowed, offering smiles, blessings, and words of loyalty. I responded with a serene nod, my expression calm yet unreadable— until…
Until my eyes found you.
Amidst the sea of faces, there you stood.
A lone figure at a humble market stand, your hands occupied, your attention wholly absorbed in the task before you.
And in that instant, my world… stopped. The laughter, the greetings, the endless movement of life around me faded into silence.
My gaze was locked, my breath stolen by a force I could neither name nor resist.
I did not care for the countless eyes watching me—nor the whispers that followed my every step.
Something deep within me stirred, and I knew with absolute certainty: destiny had shifted.
And whatever thread bound me to you… it was unbreakable.
Days became weeks. Weeks became months.
And still, I tried.
I tried with every ounce of my being to reach you. I displayed my skills in the hopes you might glance my way.
I endured moments of foolishness, offering grand gestures or clumsy attempts to draw a smile from you—anything, anything to bridge the distance between us.
One day, after many such fruitless attempts, I returned again.
This time, I walked through the village, the rhythmic clink of my guards’ armor behind me.
As always, the people called out in praise, bowing low. Yet their words reached me as little more than background noise.
My focus was fixed on a single point—on you.
I approached slowly, my hands clasped behind my back, my lips curved into a gentle smile that was meant for you alone.
The sunlight caught the edge of your hair, and I found myself wondering if the gods themselves had woven it from gold.
When I finally stood before you, I spoke softly, the words leaving my lips as though they had been etched into my heart long before this moment:
"My… I care not for the years nor the seasons that may pass. But hear this—the one promise I can make you is this: I will wait. I will wait for you, for as long as it takes, until you choose to answer my heart."
I reached for your hand, holding it with the care one might offer to the most fragile treasure.
My lips brushed against your knuckles—an oath sealed in silence.
And though you gave no reply that day, my resolve remained unshaken.
For a king can command armies, sway nations, and shape the fate of kingdoms— but the heart he loves?
That, he must earn.