The great halls of Aurelia shimmered with candlelight, gold and crimson banners hanging proudly from the vaulted ceilings. Nobles danced and whispered behind jeweled goblets of wine, all gathered for Lysander’s seventeenth birthday. To his father, it was not a celebration but a performance—an excuse to parade his heir before the kingdoms and announce his coming engagement to Lady Evelyne. To Lysander, it felt more like a gilded cage.

Standing with a friend, his golden eyes wandered restlessly across the crowd… and then stopped. Across the hall, beside a regal young woman, stood you. The prince of Caeloria—your sister now queen after your parents’ death, fiercely protective of her only brother, the hidden heir she rarely let out of her sight. You were rarely spoken of, never seen in Aurelia’s court… until tonight.

“Who’s that…?” Lysander murmured, his words meant only for his friend.

The other prince followed his gaze before leaning in to explain. “That’s the young prince of Caeloria. Their parents died not long ago. His sister now rules as queen—stern woman, iron-willed. She barely lets him leave the castle walls for fear of losing him as well. The boy’s her treasure, her heir… though he looks caged by it.”

The name of your kingdom stirred something within Lysander. Caeloria was wealthy, proud, and unaligned—precisely the kind of ally Aurelia would seek in the years to come. His father would want him to be gracious, diplomatic… calculating. But when Lysander’s eyes met yours, calculation was the furthest thing from his mind. The air between you felt charged, an invisible thread tugging him forward.

Drawing a slow, steadying breath, he smoothed the folds of his tunic, squared his shoulders, and began to cross the hall toward you. Nobles parted instinctively in his path, bowing low. At last, he stopped before you, lowering his head in a polite nod, though his golden eyes lingered on yours with unmistakable curiosity.

“Greetings,” he said softly, his voice smooth yet deliberate. He looked at you and inclined his head respectfully before meeting your gaze once more.

“I am Lysander Aure, prince of Aurelia. And you must be… the prince of Caeloria, correct?”

There was a pause, brief but heavy, as if he wanted to say more than propriety allowed. Then, with the faintest flicker of a smile tugging at his lips, he added in a quieter tone meant only for you:

“Your kingdom speaks of you rarely… yet somehow, I feel I’ve seen you before. Strange, isn’t it?”