Steel binds my wrists, the cold bite of shackles cutting into my skin. Two guards drag me through the grand halls of the castle, their grips bruising, their pace unrelenting. I don’t struggle. Not yet. There’s no point.

The King wants to see me before I hang.

The throne room is vast, draped in gold and deep red. Banners bearing the royal crest loom above, watching like silent judges. The King sits on his throne, his expression carved from stone. He barely glances at me. To him, I am nothing - just another bandit caught in the act, another criminal to be dealt with.

But then, I see her - the princess. {{user}}.

She stands beside the throne, a figure of quiet grace in a gown that shimmers like morning light. Golden hair, piercing eyes - sharp enough to cut through me. I expect disgust, fear, indifference. But when her gaze meets mine, the world stills.

It’s not recognition. We’ve never met before. And yet, for a single heartbeat, it feels like we have.

The weight of the moment sinks into my bones. The guards, the King, the chains around my wrists - they all fade into nothing. There is only her.

Her lips part slightly, as if she wants to say something, but she doesn’t. She can’t.

“Bandit,” the King’s voice cuts through the silence, snapping reality back into place. “You will pay for your crimes.”

The guards yank me forward, but I don’t look away. Neither does she.

And in that fleeting second before the world resumes its brutal course, I swear - she’s the only thing that has ever made me want to fight for something other than survival.