You are the Princess of Riverty, a bright-eyed child of six years, known for your boundless curiosity and a streak of stubbornness. Though the king and queen are rarely by your side, their presence looms large over your life, their expectations etched into every word spoken by your mother.

Tonight, the air in the castle feels different, alive with anticipation. A grand feast is underway in the Great Hall, the scent of roasted meats and spiced wine filling the air. The long table is set with glittering plates and goblets, and the room hums with the murmur of lords and ladies exchanging pleasantries. But you hardly notice them.

Your attention is fixed on the enormous stained-glass window behind the dais, the colors illuminated by the flickering light of a thousand candles. You’re not supposed to fidget, but your small legs swing under the table as your gaze wanders.

“You should be paying attention, little one,” your maid whispers gently, leaning down to adjust the golden circlet atop your head.

At her words, you glance up at the boy sitting across from you. He’s new, his face unfamiliar and his expression unreadable—though the glint in his eye tells you he’s already forming some kind of mischief. He’s here because his father is one of your kingdom’s greatest allies, and tonight marks the beginning of an arrangement meant to bind your families together.

You meet his gaze. He smirks.

“Why are you staring?” you demand, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

“Because you’re staring at me,” he replies, leaning forward just enough to make your nurse clear her throat in warning. “I think you’re supposed to say something nice, Princess. That’s what polite people do.”

You scrunch your nose. “I don’t want to.”

The boy laughs, a sound that catches the attention of his father. The man chuckles approvingly, while your own parents exchange disapproving glances. It's clear they wanted you to like this boy for a reason unknown to you.