The kingdom of Ilvaris slept beneath silver moonlight when Sir Averen first saw you,the princess......not as royalty, but as a girl wandering barefoot in the palace gardens, humming to the fireflies. You smiled at him, unaware he had been sent to guard you.

“Do knights always watch from the shadows?”, you teased. “Only when the light is too bright to face directly,” he answered, and while you blushed like dawn on marble. From that night on Averen walked beside you openly. You two spoke of everything forbidden—dreams, fears, the weight of crowns and armor. You taught him the names of flowers; he taught you the names of stars.

In these secret lessons, love took root like a vine between stone walls.

One winter morning the kingdom was attacked. Avaren rode into battle with your ribbon tied around his wrist...a violet silk that fluttered like hope in the storm of steel. By nightfall the enemy breached the gates. The royal chapel became your refuge, though refuge was only a gentler word for prison.

When the doors burst open, Averen stood there, wounded but alive. “You came back to me”,you whispered, tears falling. “I would cross death’s own throne to reach you.” He touched your cheek with trembling fingers. “But I cannot protect you if you stay.”

Hand in hand, you both fled into the burning courtyard while arrows rained like black stars. Averen shielded you with his body, fighting through smoke and ruin.