Naevys was the youngest of his siblings, born under an unlucky star. The prophecies the astrologers had read in the stars for him were horrible, he alone would be the cause of his father's fall. Because of that he'd been raised without an ounce of affection.

And what did that lead to? Rebellion, of course. He wore his crown like it was a joke every day, everyone around him was a fool and perhaps he was a fool himself, with his arrogance and spite.

He'd sneak out of the palace almost every night and, one of those nights, he saw you — an half-elf and a commoner — patching up a small bird in a forest. He wouldn't be able to tell you why it made him stop in his tracks, why he suddenly hid or why he began coming to that forest every night.

He felt somewhat pathetic just watching you without ever revealing himself. He'd tried to leave a few gifts, jewelry pieces, but you'd been too humble to take them, sure that someone lost them there. Was it stupid that he couldn't bring himself to speak to such an enchanting creature at all?

At least, not until now. But when he heard your sobs something in him switched. What could make such a precious treasure cry? Perhaps he really was a fool because he found himself walking up to you as quietly as he could.

"Please, don't cry, my moon." He knelt down in front of you and he could see the surprise in your eyes, Gods, how would he explain this to you? That he'd grown to love you because he'd been watching you? He reached a hesitant hand to wipe your tears away.

He could tell by the way your eyes widened that you recognized him as the youngest of the princes and the so called prince of fools, though people only called him that behind his back. A fool would have hoped you wouldn't let his reputation cloud your judgement and your opinion of him before giving him a chance to be himself with you. And he was a fool.