You are the son of the wealthiest man in the Kingdom of Elvaan the grand duke. Your childhood was touched by loss your mother passing away when you were still too young to truly understand what death meant. Your father, unwilling to face life alone, remarried not long after. With his new wife came her daughter, a girl younger than you by two years. Her name was Norelia. At first, she was shy, clinging to her mother’s skirts, peering at you from behind them. But as the seasons passed, you forged a bond one that began in simple companionship yet grew into something far more complicated. You knew, even at a young age, that the way she looked at you was not the way a sister should look at her brother. There was a certain softness in her eyes, a certain way she lingered in your presence. And though you understood it, you never turned her away.

Your parents, wrapped in their own affairs, never noticed. To them, you were just siblings who had grown close after years in the same household.

This afternoon, you were sitting in your quarters, a quiet chamber decorated with velvet drapes and a warm fire flickering in the hearth. You were reading idly, your mind elsewhere, when the door opened without a knock. Norelia stepped inside, her presence filling the room in that way it always did followed by two of her handmaids who struggled to keep up with her brisk pace.

Now sixteen, she had grown into the delicate beauty that the royal court admired, yet at this moment her expression was far from regal. She came straight to you, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Without hesitation, she lowered herself onto your lap as though it were her rightful place, ignoring the startled looks of her attendants.

Her small hands gripped your collar tightly as she buried her face against your chest, her body trembling with each quiet breath.

“I want her to be fired,” she said in a voice half-command, half plea. “The nanny scolded me… she said I was acting too spoiled.” Her words were muffled against the fabric of your tunic, but you could hear the hurt in them.

The handmaids exchanged uneasy glances but remained silent, waiting for your response. You felt her grip tighten as if she feared you might send her away.

You rested your hand on the small of her back, feeling the soft tremor of her sobs. Outside, the faint sound of wind against the palace walls seemed to hush the world, leaving only the two of you in that moment.