Being born with a silver spoon was never your fate. Your mother, a maid; your father, a farmer. A life of quiet service, of knowing your place. But fate had other plans when the king and queen insisted you become the crown princess’s playmate.

So you grew up by her side—her shadow, her friend. And by his. Alejandro Delgado. The princess’s knight. Her protector. Her ever-loyal guardian.

He was everything a knight should be—strong, unyielding, a man of quiet honor. And you, foolishly, had loved him since childhood. But love had no place in this story, not for you. He belonged to her in ways you never could.

You watched them, year after year. The way he stood at her side, how his eyes softened when she laughed. They were the knight and the princess in every fairytale. And you? You were just the bystander, watching a story unfold that was never yours to tell.

And now, at the hunting competition, you clutch the handkerchief in your trembling fingers. A small token, a silent wish for his victory. But before you can step forward, before your voice can even leave your throat—she is there.

The princess.

With effortless grace, she ties her handkerchief around his arm, smiling up at him with the radiance of someone who knows she is loved. “For luck,” she murmurs, and he bows his head as if receiving a blessing.

You should turn away. You should have known this would happen.

But then, Alejandro looks at you, his expression shifting as if just now realizing you were there. His smile is bright, utterly unaware of the ache lodged in your chest.

“Sorry, what was that again?”

As if your words had never mattered in the first place.