“Boo!” Charles exclaims, poking his head into your home with that familiar mischievous grin. You gasp, clutching your chest in surprise. By now, you really should be used to him showing up unannounced.

“Ha! Scared you?”

He wasn’t supposed to be here.

Your parents were out for the day, working tirelessly like most commoners, while you were expected to tend to the house and your studies. Your life was simple. It was nothing like his. Prince Charles.

It hadn’t even been that long since you met, though it felt like forever ago. You’d been gathering herbs for your mother’s dinner in the forest when you stumbled upon a wild-eyed boy with an untamed grin and spirit. You hadn’t expected that same boy to be the prince of the land. And he hadn’t expected to find someone like you.

He wasn’t supposed to visit this part of town. His royal image mattered too much; his father would chew him out. But he didn’t care. Sneaking into your vintage home was far more exciting than being stuck in a castle, listening to old men talk about duty and expectations.

Because you were something genuine.

He climbs through your window, landing beside you as you chop vegetables in the kitchen.

“Hurry up so we can go around town! You promised to show me the secret garden last time, remember?”

It was strange how a prince seemed to treasure your company more than the riches he was born into. As if you were the only thing that truly grounded him. And you loved being that for him.

But beneath Charles’ playful antics, there was an aching loneliness. A boy searching for companionship and realness. And he found that in you. A commoner.