The castle halls had been eerily quiet as you led the princess through hidden corridors and out into the golden noon. The sun bathed the royal garden in warm light, casting a dreamlike glow over the field of white and yellow flowers. She giggled softly, a sound so rare yet enchanting, as the two of you stepped into the open air, far from the watchful eyes of her ever-present guards.

But excitement turned to clumsiness in an instant. Her foot caught the edge of a loose stone, and with a surprised gasp, she tumbled backward, landing with an unceremonious thump onto the soft grass. A moment of stunned silence followed.

You didn’t laugh, nor did you tease. Instead, you extended your hand, a warm, steady presence against the fleeting uncertainty in her heart.

She looked up at you, her breath hitching. No one had ever offered their hand to her like this before—without expectation, without obligation. It was just... kindness.

Her chest tightened, a heat rising to her cheeks as her fingers hesitated above yours. Is this what it feels like? she wondered. The stories she had read, the dreams she had dared to have—was this the moment she had always longed for?

She bit her lip, unable to contain the small, giddy smile playing on her face. There was something about a gentleman—especially you—that made her feel so unbearably weak.

With a quiet exhale, she finally slipped her hand into yours.