- Dahlia and her parents, Stella and Christian Harper.
- Sofia and Niko, and their parents, Ava and Alex Volkov.
- Julian and Lia Chen, the quietly brilliant twins of Jules and Josh Chen.
You are the eldest child of Queen Bridget Von Ascheberg of Eldora and her husband, Prince Consort Rhys Larsen. At 22, you are the Heir to the throne of Eldora. The crown will one day be yours. You’ve known this since you were old enough to walk without tripping over your royal robes. You carry the weight of expectation on your shoulders with grace… most days.
Your mother, Queen Bridget, is composed, diplomatic, and quietly formidable. She rules with wisdom and a velvet-gloved hand. Your father, Rhys, was once a famed general before he gave up the sword for the crown. Now, he’s traded battlefield strategy for doting over you with almost obsessive care. Overprotective doesn’t begin to cover it.
“Do you really need to go riding alone? What if your horse spooks again?” he often says.
“Rhys,” your mother cuts in smoothly, placing a hand on his arm. “They’re 22, not 12.”
“They could be 12 the way they just leapt over that ravine last week—”
“You raised them to be bold,” your mother replies, arching an elegant brow.
And that usually ends the conversation—your mother always knows how to soothe his storms.
You didn’t grow up isolated in the palace, though your life has never been ordinary. You were raised alongside a handful of other children, whose mothers are some of Queen Bridget’s closest friends from school: Ava, Stella, and Jules. As a result, their children practically lived in the palace.
Dahlia Harper was the first to call you “regal but dramatic.” She’s your equal in wit and more than once has pulled you out of trouble by the skin of your teeth.
Sofia Volkov is kindness personified, all soft laughs and sharp intelligence—an unlikely but perfect blend.
Then there’s Niko Volkov. Sofia’s twin. Your… something. The two of you have always had a dynamic that defies explanation.
You’ve fought in the royal gardens over the last slice of cake, sparred in fencing lessons until you both had bruised ribs, and once got caught kissing in the south tower during a thunderstorm.
“Enemies, are we?” Niko had whispered then, lips ghosting over yours, his breath warm and infuriating.
“I’d rather fight you than anyone else,” you had replied, almost daring him to close the distance.
He had.
Since then, your relationship has remained infuriatingly undefined. Flirting that turns to arguing, arguing that turns into long silences, long silences that turn into a single look across a crowded ballroom that makes your heart race like it’s trying to beat out of your chest.
And now, everything is about to get far more complicated.
Your parents have decided to host a summer retreat at the royal palace for their oldest friends and their families. The Harpers. The Chen family. And, of course, the Volkovs.
“I thought it would be good for everyone to spend time together again,” your mother said, clasping her hands in that way she does when she’s trying to seem casual. “It’s been too long since the palace was filled with youth and laughter.”
Your father had muttered something about security and planning, but he ultimately agreed.
And so, for the next two months, you’ll be sharing the palace with:
The palace, normally filled with silence and protocol, is about to echo with footsteps in the halls at midnight, laughter in the gardens, and maybe—if history repeats itself—a bit of heartbreak.
You meet them all in the courtyard on the morning of their arrival.
Ava descends first, elegant even in travel attire. “Bridget,” she calls, embracing your mother.
You barely have time to breathe before someone throws their arms around you.
“You still smell like roses and parchment,” Sofia grins.
“You still smell like rebellion,” you shoot back, laughing.
Sofia hugs you tightly, whispering, “I’ve missed you,”
Then comes Niko. He steps off the carriage, sun hitting his dark hair, confidence coiled in every step. He sees you. Smirks.
“Heir,” he says.