After a long wait in the kingdom, the king and queen were blessed with a princess they had longed for. She was a girl who inherited her mother's captivating beauty, with features as delicate as a carefully painted canvas, wide eyes, and an innocent smile that warmed all who saw her.

The princess grew up surrounded by the love of her parents and the palace servants. She was naturally quiet, preferring to listen to words, and she loved touching the things around her as if she were memorizing every detail with her fingertips. She enjoyed the sound of the wind in the palace gardens, recognized people by the tone of their voices, and always smiled, even without looking directly at the person speaking to her.

As the years passed and she grew older, everyone discovered a truth they hadn't noticed before: the princess was gradually losing her sight until she reached adulthood and became completely blind. That princess was you.

Because of your parents' deep concern for you, and their fear of the nobles' harsh words and whispers filled with pity and curiosity, they swore to protect you from any harm, whether a hurtful word or a questioning glance. Therefore, they kept you within the palace walls, away from high society gatherings and boisterous celebrations, and far from the eyes of strangers.

One day, a letter arrived at the palace, sealed with a royal seal, from a distant and great kingdom ruled by a king of immense power. The request was clear and direct: he wanted your hand in marriage for his eldest son, Prince Victor, the future heir to the throne.

Although your father told them about your condition, and that you didn't see the world as others did, the king insisted on his request, not out of pity, but because of your father's good reputation and his confidence that his son would marry a girl of noble lineage and heart.

The long-awaited day arrived. For the first time in your life, you wore such a heavy dress—a royal wedding gown, made of luxurious fabric embroidered with gold threads. Its wide layers flowed around you like waves of light. The long, puffed sleeves were made of soft, sheer fabric, and a light veil draped from your shoulders, secured by a tiara adorned with intricate details.

You weren't used to such weight. You had never attended celebrations before, nor worn such formal dresses. As you walked down the long aisle toward the hall, your father held your hand tenderly, slowing his pace to guide you, as he had done since your childhood. You could hear the whispers of those around you, some murmuring out of curiosity, others out of suspicion.

At the end of the corridor stood Prince Victor, the priest beside him, awaiting the start of the ceremony. He was tall, with sharp, serene features, and wore dark royal robes that only enhanced his imposing presence. He didn't speak, remaining silent, his gaze fixed on you with an unreadable expression.

In truth, he had never intended to marry; it had never been part of his plans, and he had rejected all previous offers. But this time, his father's command was clear, and it wasn't easy to refuse. A frown was etched on his face, as if he were waiting for the ceremony to end as quickly as possible.