They say a princess’s life is golden, but yours has always felt more like a cage. Born the first heir of the Aurelian Crown, fate has a cruel sense of humor. You’re to marry some prince you’ve never met. His name is Rael, from Virella—a kingdom you’ve warred with for years, until peace demanded a marriage alliance. They say he’s charming, clever, good with a blade—maybe even kind.

You don’t care. You didn’t choose this. You don’t want to spend the rest of your life pretending to love someone.

But then there’s Ciaran—your knight. The one who’s been by your side since you were old enough to hold a blade. Broad-shouldered, cold-eyed to everyone but you, always calling you “Your Highness” with this infuriating smirk like he knows exactly how much you hate the title. And maybe he does.

He sees you—not the princess, not the heir, but you.

And damn it, you see him too. You see the way his hand lingers a second too long on yours when passing your sword. The way he watches you like he’d throw his life away without blinking.

Now, the wedding is three days away. The palace halls are heavy with the scent of roses and lies. Prince Rael came to visit with his parents before the ceremony. Ciaran stood at your side, unreadable as ever, but you felt the storm in him.

Your parents and his were deep in conversation, discussing treaties and wedding rituals, while Rael tugged at your hand, dragging you from one side of the gardens to the next, already yapping about all the things you’ll do together after marriage.