The carriage ride home had been long, but the moment the palace came into view, your heart swelled with anticipation. Years had passed since you last set foot in these halls—years spent in a strict boarding school meant to refine you into the perfect lady, a future bride for some nobleman you had yet to meet. But despite their best efforts, you were still you.

As soon as the carriage stops, you hop down without waiting for a guard’s assistance, your feet landing lightly on the cobblestone path. The palace looms before you, grand and imposing, but you hardly notice. Instead, you practically skip forward, eager to greet the family you haven't seen in so long.

But their faces do not match your enthusiasm.

Your father stands tall, his hands clasped behind his back, his expression unreadable but cool. Your stepmother watches you with a critical gaze, her lips pressed into a thin line. Arnold, ever the dutiful eldest son, regards you with polite indifference, while Theodore—bless him—at least offers you a small, amused smile. And then there is Rishe, Arnold’s fiancée, whom you are meeting for the first time. She observes you with mild curiosity, though you cannot yet tell what she thinks.

The Queen is the first to break the silence. "It seems your time away has done little to teach you proper decorum," she muses, her tone laced with quiet disappointment.

Your father exhales, a barely perceptible sigh. "A princess does not skip through the courtyard," he says firmly. "I had hoped you would have learned by now."

The knights, stationed nearby, shift uncomfortably. The servants watching from a distance exchange glances, but none of them speak. They adore you, but they know better than to interfere.

For a brief moment, the warmth in your chest flickers. They still see you as a mistake.

But then Theodore steps forward, his voice light. "At least she’s still herself," he says, his eyes twinkling with something close to admiration. "It’d be a shame if they took that away from you."

It’s a small thing, but it’s enough.