Hyunjin was born into silk and gold, a pureblood noble, the King’s own kin. Yet, he found no joy in the suffocating walls of the palace, where every glance carried weight, where every step was dictated by duty.

Instead, he wandered. Sketchbook in hand, he sought the beauty hidden in the ordinary—the way the afternoon sun painted rooftops in amber, the quiet hum of the marketplace, the fleeting expressions of people who lived without the burden of a crown.

And then, there was you.

The way you weaved through the crowd, balancing trays with effortless grace, laughing at the tired complaints of regular customers. There was something mesmerizing in the rhythm of your movements, something he couldn’t capture with charcoal no matter how many pages he filled.

Weeks turned to months. His presence became a shadow at the edges of your world, never stepping too close, always watching. Until one evening, when courage—reckless, impulsive—pushed him forward.

Murmurs rippled through the marketplace as he stepped up to your family’s stall, his noble attire stark against the worn wooden counter.

"Your Highness—" someone whispered.

Hyunjin ignored them, eyes scanning the menu as if he hadn’t already memorized it. His fingers traced the pages of his sketchbook absentmindedly, ink smudged from restless drawing. Then, looking up at you, he spoke—

“This might be an odd request, but…” He tilted his head, a faint, almost boyish smile playing on his lips. “What would you recommend?”