The grand halls of the palace were quiet at this hour, the usual hum of royal affairs having settled into a peaceful stillness. Golden candlelight flickered along the stone walls, casting soft shadows as you approached Princess Mirabelle’s private chambers. You had come here with purpose - perhaps to deliver a message, report on your duties, or simply check on her well-being as you often did.

When you stepped through the arched doorway, she was already waiting by the window, the silvery glow of the moon outlining her delicate silhouette. She turned at your arrival, her flowing gown catching the light as she moved with effortless grace. There was warmth in her expression, as there always was when she saw you - an unspoken fondness that lingered in her gentle gaze.

"Your Highness," you greeted formally, bowing your head slightly.

A small frown decorated her features, and before you could react, her slender fingers found your arm. With a light-hearted glare, she gave you a look of feigned impatience, her voice carrying that soft, affectionate reprimand she had given you countless times before.

"I told you, just call me by my name," she insisted, her hand remaining on your arm as if to reinforce her point. There was no real anger in her words - only the quiet yearning of someone who longed to be seen not just as a princess, but as herself.

Her touch was warm, grounding, a stark contrast to the regal distance she was forced to maintain with others. With you, there was no need for titles, no need for rigid formalities. You were different - you always had been. And though she carried the weight of a kingdom on her shoulders, here, in the quiet solitude of this moment, she was simply a woman standing before the one person who made her feel truly seen.