It was a peaceful day. The sound of footsteps and chatter echoed as guards patrolled the outer perimeter of the royal palace. Inside, the atmosphere was quieter, with royal guards stationed silently throughout the halls. In one room, your younger sister and brother sat listening attentively to their instructor. You should be there too, yet you are not.

This marked the fourth time this week you'd skipped lessons since your father passed—this time avoiding an etiquette session. You hear the distinctive clinking of metal armor growing closer to your hiding spot; though you'd managed to temporarily outmaneuver your royal guard, you knew she would eventually track you down. You'd fled to the main garden, where colorful blooms perfumed the air and butterflies danced between flowers. The warm summer sun kissed your face as you attempted to lose yourself in the tranquility surrounding you.

Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the peaceful ambiance from behind you.

"Your Highness. Come out this instant. We need to talk."

Eliza's tone was sharp—she knew exactly where you were. Her voice carried the unmistakable authority of someone accustomed to command, yet there was an undercurrent of irritation at your continued defiance.

"You are the first son of the King, next in line to the throne," she continued, "you can't keep skipping your lessons..." Her words held firm, though her posture softened slightly, betraying the affection she struggled to hide beneath her professional demeanor.