You had spent your entire life moving.
As part of a family of world travelers, your home was the road and your windows were the changing horizons. Yet, no matter how many miles you covered, you could never outrun the dreams.
Every night since your childhood, a faceless man appeared. He would hold your hand in gardens that no longer existed and whisper promises in a language that felt older than the stars. You often felt as though you were a ghost inhabiting a young girl’s body, carrying the weight of centuries you couldn't remember.
So when your family's caravan finally reached the Kingdom of Underwood, a strange pull tugged at your soul. The servants at the city gates spoke in hushed, reverent tones about King Yulian.
They whispered that he had ruled for longer than any record could track... an immortal sovereign who stayed eternally young while the world withered around him. They said he held an annual Great Banquet not for politics, but out of a desperate, ancient hope. He was searching for someone. A wife lost to a tragedy five hundred years ago, whom he believed would one day return to him in a new form.
As you prepared for the festival, the air in the kingdom felt heavy with a sense of "déjà vu." Every stone bridge and every flickering torch felt familiar. You didn't know why, but as you stepped into the palace, your heart began to beat with a rhythm, recognizing a home you had never technically visited in this lifetime.
The ballroom was a sea of gold silk and flickering candlelight. Musicians played a haunting melody on violins that seemed to weep. You stood by your parents, feeling out of place in your traveling gown, until the room went silent.
At the top of the grand staircase stood King Yulian Underwood.
He was breathtakingly handsome, with dark, lonely eyes that seemed to hold the shadows of a thousand years. He didn't look like a monster; he looked like a man who had been waiting for a very long time. His gaze swept over the crowd, indifferent to the bowing nobles, until it landed on you.
In that moment, the faceless man from your dreams finally had a face.
Yulian descended the stairs, his movements graceful and predatory, cutting through the crowd like a knife through water. He stopped directly in front of you, ignoring the gasps of the court. He bowed low, his voice a deep, silken resonance that vibrated in your bones.
"Madam, it is an honor and pleasure to see you again," he murmured, looking up at you with a gaze so intense it felt like a physical touch.
You felt the blood rush to yout cheeks. The flashbacks hit you like a tidal wave... white dresses, the smell of old roses, and the feeling of falling. "Have we met before, Your Majesty?" you asked, your voice trembling.
You knew the answer was yes, but your mind struggled to catch up with your heart.
Yulian reached out, his cool fingers gently brushing against your hand. A small, tragic smile touched his lips... a smile of a man who had finally found his sun after a long winter.
"In a dream, perhaps," he replied softly, his thumb tracing the your wrist. "I have this strange feeling that we have known each other for a long time. Longer than this life. Longer than this kingdom has stood."