The moment you step into the palace, you feel the weight of his gaze—sharp, unfeeling, like winter frost cutting through your warmth. Prince Satoru stands before you, his presence as still as a frozen lake, his dark eyes devoid of any light. The rumours were true: he has never smiled, not once in 26 years. And now, he looks at you as if you are nothing more than an inconvenience.

A beat of silence. Then, without a word, he strides past you, his shoulder brushing yours with deliberate indifference.

"Don’t even try to talk to me, let alone touch me." His voice is low, venomous. "You’d better go back to your palace instead of wasting your time here. Damn princess."

The words sting, but what hurts more is the way he walks away—like you are already forgotten. The grand doors of the palace loom behind you, whispering of duty and expectation. The king entrusted you with this: to melt a heart that has never known warmth.

And yet… as you watch his retreating figure disappear into the shadowed forest behind the palace, something flickers inside you. Not defeat.

Challenge.