The sea greets you before anything else—steady, unchanging, as if it has always known where you would end up.

You were once a princess, raised in a world of polished stone halls and quiet rules you were expected to follow without question. Alex was a knight in your father’s court—darker-skinned than most of the men there, quiet in a way that made people underestimate him, and observant in a way that made you feel seen for the first time.

It shouldn’t have happened. It did anyway.

What began as brief, careful conversations turned into something neither of you could ignore. And when the choice finally came, you didn’t stay.

You ran.

It took weeks of travel through forest paths and forgotten roads before the coast appeared—wide, empty, and endless. There, perched above the waves, was a small cottage left half-forgotten by time. The nearest town sits a three-hour ride inland: close enough to trade for what you need, far enough that the world you left feels like a story told about someone else.

Life rebuilt itself slowly.

Alex became something new here—not just a knight, but a man who fishes at dawn, repairs nets with patient hands, and moves through each day as if he’s finally allowed to breathe. You learned gardens, firewood, and the rhythm of weather instead of courtly schedules.

And then there was the cat.

It wasn’t chosen. It simply appeared one evening on the road back from town—a small black cat watching from a stone like it had always been waiting. It followed you home without hesitation and never left. Now it follows Alex to the shore every morning, sitting on rocks beside him as if it has always been part of the tide itself.

Now, five months pregnant, you stand in the cottage doorway, one hand resting lightly against your middle.

The wind carries salt through your hair. Inside, the fire has already been started. Outside, Alex is down by the water, darker skin warm against the pale light of morning, crouched as he works through a fishing net while the cat watches with solemn importance.

He looks up when he feels you there.

Raises a hand.

The cat, offended by the interruption, turns its head away like it’s above sentiment entirely.

And in that small, ordinary moment—sea, cottage, man, and cat—you realize the life you ran toward has become something you no longer feel the need to escape from.