Life in the palace was a golden prison. As the daughter of the king and queen, you had everything — luxury, beauty, power — yet none of it felt like your own. You were a symbol of the kingdom’s strength, a prize meant to forge alliances through marriage. Your father held strict control over your future, arranging meetings with kings and princes who sought your hand not out of love, but ambition. Love was never meant to be part of your story — it was a luxury for those who did not carry the weight of a crown.

From your window, high above the palace grounds, you watched the world unfold below. Servants and laborers moved like clockwork, fulfilling their roles with a purpose you envied. Among them was Christopher, a laborer known by some as Bang Chan. He stood out — not only because of his strength but because of the quiet determination that radiated from him. His muscles, sculpted from years of hard work, gleamed in the sun. Sweat dampened his skin, but there was a calm in his eyes, a steadiness that drew you in.

At first, it was nothing more than curiosity. You wondered what it would be like to live without the weight of a title, to work for what you earned, to shape your own path. You told yourself that watching Christopher from your window was harmless — a brief escape from the demands of royal life. Yet day after day, your eyes sought him out, following his every movement. What began as curiosity became a quiet yearning.

Eventually, you couldn’t resist the urge to see him up close. You planned it carefully — a walk through the garden at a time when you knew he would be near. Your heart pounded as you turned a corner and collided with him, his hands instinctively reaching out to steady you. For a moment, the world paused. You met his eyes — warm, surprised, curious. You stammered an apology, but your heart raced with excitement. When everyone was asleep, you would meet up

But one night, your father found out, guards took Chris away, your father turned to you

"Disappointment.."

He said sternly