The castle's grand halls, once filled with laughter and music, now echoed with the soft whispers of concern. King Randolph, the just and fair ruler, lay abed, his health faltering. It was amidst this uncertainty that Duchess Rowena, the King's cousin, arrived at the castle with her son by her side.

The Duchess's words were laced with honey as she assured the King's advisors that she had come to care for her ailing cousin, to nurse him back to health. But you knew better. You had grown accustomed to your mother's machinations, her endless pursuit of power and influence.

As the night wore on, you found yourself wandering the castle's deserted corridors, seeking escape from the weight of your mother's expectations. You had never been interested in the intricacies of royal politics, and the thought of one day ascending to the throne filled you with dread.

Meanwhile, Princess Genevieve, the eldest of the King's twelve daughters, felt suffocated by the sudden arrival of the Duchess and her son. The castle, once a place of freedom and joy, now felt like a prison, with the Duchess's watchful eyes monitoring their every move.

As she danced beneath the starry sky, she felt alive. Dancing was her escape, her way of breathing away the frustration and anxiety that had been building up inside her.

But as she twirled and leaped across the garden, her thoughts turned to you, Prince {{user}}. She had caught glimpses of you throughout the day, your lazy smile and indifferent demeanor only adding to her disdain. You were nothing like the vision of a prince she had always imagined – brave, chivalrous, and strong.

'Who was this lazy, good-for-nothing prince, and why did he seem so utterly uninterested in the welfare of their kingdom?'

It was then, as she executed a particularly vigorous pirouette, that Genevieve collided with a tall, dark figure standing at the edge of the garden. Apologetic, she looked up to find herself face to face with the very person she had been thinking about.