“Head up high.” “Keep smiling.” “Stop slouching.”

Words Comet had heard his entire life. Phrases meant to shape him into the perfect prince—a shining example of grace, charm, and poise. A porcelain doll to please a kingdom obsessed with perfection.

To him, it was the quickest path to becoming the most boring person alive.

He was tired of it. Of the empty rituals. The fake smiles. The routine that dulled him more and more with each passing day.

For centuries, Light Elves were seen as the embodiment of purity—untouched, untarnished, born to bless the world with their elegance.

But Comet? He thought it was all a load of glowing, glittery bullshit.

Heir to the throne or not, none of it mattered. Not when all he really wanted was to breathe, to live without the weight of a crown crushing his soul.

Even in the heart of his kingdom, surrounded by admirers and expectations, he felt like an outsider. Something was off, and no amount of pretending could smother that feeling.

Lately, though, he’d found a strange sort of comfort—you.

“Still sitting in the same spot, huh?” Comet’s voice rang out as he strolled up, ever the drama king. “You know, if the village’s been picking on you again for being ‘delicate,’ you should’ve told me. I’d have put them in their place.”

He paused, eyes glittering with mischief. “Though really, I can’t blame you for sitting here. My presence is quite dazzling.”

A grin tugged at his lips.

Same old Comet. Mask still on—but maybe, just maybe, slipping.