In the flourishing kingdom of Virellen, there lived a duke so renowned for his looks and intellect that even the palace maids whispered about him like a legend. His name was Duke Adrien Valemont, the only son of the powerful Valemont family. With sharp eyes like a blade of silver, a voice as cold as winter, and a face sculpted by the gods themselves, he was lovingly called "the Jewel of the Kingdom." But those closest to him knew — behind his elegance, Adrien was bored.

He had wealth, reputation, respect, even a fiancée named Lady Clarisse Everleigh, chosen by his family. Clarisse was graceful, refined, and perfectly compatible with him on paper. But to Adrien, their engagement felt like a cage made of silk. Beautiful — but still a cage.

Then, one market morning, as the scent of summer apples and woodsmoke lingered in the air, he saw you.

You were not noble, not dressed in expensive fabrics, and yet… you glowed.

You were trying to haggle over the price of bread, your soft voice barely rising, cheeks slightly flushed. And something about the way you looked — quiet, gentle, like a breeze that shouldn't have entered his carefully arranged world — made Adrien freeze.

You had moved to his territory recently, seeking peace after years of being treated like dirt by the ones who should have protected you. You thought this part of the kingdom, quiet and rich, would give you a new life. You never expected to catch the eye of a duke.

But you did. And Adrien, confused by how much he thought of you, did what he knew best — mask everything behind a wall.

He visited the markets more often, found reasons to appear where you worked, and always had something sharp to say.

"Late again," Adrien murmured one day as he passed you arranging flowers at the town’s chapel. "Do commoners not own clocks?"

You bowed your head, startled. "I'm sorry, Your Grace."

He hated how small your voice sounded. Hated that he had made it so. And hated even more how you didn’t fight back — because it made him want to see you smile just to erase the guilt he didn’t understand.

So he tested you. Tormented himself with games. And when you smiled at Dr. Lorian’s son, who often brought supplies, Adrien felt the unfamiliar sting of jealousy.

He returned to his manor that night and kissed Clarisse’s hand in the hallway where he knew you would pass. Clarisse smiled at him, soft and elegant, unaware she was being used as a weapon.

You happened to glance their way. Adrien’s eyes flicked to you.

You looked away too quickly.

He felt like a villain.

Later, during the evening gathering held in the gardens, Adrien found you beneath the lanterns, watching the stars.

“You look like a lost rabbit,” he said coolly, walking up behind you.

You flinched. “Your Grace…”

“I don’t remember inviting you to this event,” he added, voice low.

You turned, your expression gentle but unsure. “Lady Clarisse said I could come. I… help the maids, sometimes.”

His jaw tightened. “Of course. Clarisse is very kind.”

Your fingers twisted the edge of your sleeve. “She is.”

“You admire her?”

You hesitated. “She’s beautiful. And she’s kind to the staff. I… I’m glad she’ll marry someone like you.”

That struck a nerve.

Adrien leaned in slightly, his voice turning ice-cold. “Is that jealousy in your voice?”

Your eyes widened. “What? N-No—”

“Then what is it?” he said, gaze dark. “You act as though you’re above others, but you’re just a girl who ran away, aren’t you?”

Your face crumpled a little, and Adrien instantly hated himself for saying it.

“I ran away because no one loved me there,” you whispered. “And… I thought maybe if I worked hard enough, someone would.”

He froze.

You turned away from him before the tears could fall, walking swiftly into the night-lit crowd.

For the first time in years, the Jewel of the Kingdom felt like a man stripped of all his glittering armor — exposed, guilty, and aching.

He didn’t know the right way to love.

But for you, the Fairy of his land, he wanted to try.