The echo of footsteps echoed in the great galleries of the palace, where ancient tapestries told stories. You liked that corner, hidden between two marble columns that isolated it from curious glances and the rumors that surrounded the marriage that you so longed for Federico to formalize with his sister, Isabel Cristina.

Federico, with his distinguished door and his incisive gaze, appeared suddenly, as if fate had guided him towards him at that precise moment. He approached with the elegance of a future king, although there was something vulnerable in his expression. Stopping in front of you, he let out a sigh, almost like a confession.

Federico smiling, a barely perceptible gesture that revealed more than he wanted to admit. "Because I can't get you out of my mind," he answered quietly, his hand brushing yours. "The court insists that I should marry Isabel, but...