He was your stepbrother and the future heir, Prince Ronan Arvendale. You were also a prince, but he had never liked you from the day you were born. There was a six-year age gap between the two of you, and after the late queen his mother died, your father, the king, remarried your mother. That was one of the reasons Ronan hated you. To him, your mother had replaced his and you were a constant reminder of what he had lost.

You were naturally clingy, always seeking his attention, but he hated that about you. He despised introducing you as part of his family, and yet, despite all of this, you loved your elder brother deeply.

He was reading his late mother’s diary when you approached him, your steps light and hopeful, wishing he might play with you.

“Go away,” he said sharply, not even bothering to look up. “I told you, I don’t like you.”