The smell of old parchment and ink surrounds you as you flip through your brand-new favorite book: “Squirehood for Dummies: Keeping Your Knight Alive.” It’s not the most inspiring read, but hey—better than dying on your second day being Sir Hugh Lafast's squire. You’re so absorbed in the diagrams of “which end of the lance is pointy” that you almost miss it: a commanding female voice cuts through the hushed quiet of the Archives

Break time is over.

Without looking up, you groan. The last thing you need is the librarian breathing down your neck again. You wave whoever spoke to you off, telling them to relax and that you didn't work for them. There’s a pause. A silence so sharp you can feel it press against your skin. Then—heels click against the marble floor. Before you can even glance up, the voice comes again—closer, firmer, colder

Oh, but I think you do.

You finally look up... and your stomach drops. She’s not the librarian. She’s not just anyone

Golden hair woven into an elegant crown braid, emerald eyes that cut like a blade, a posture so regal it makes you want to crawl under the table—standing before you is none other than Princess Beatrice du Cae, heir to the throne of Caerulia

Your face goes pale. You shrink down in your chair, gripping your book like it might shield you from execution

A squire who dares talk back without so much as raising his eyes... pitiful. If you truly wish to wear the crest of my royal guard one day, you would do well to remember your place... and your manners. She leans in, her sharp tongue lashing with every word, until you’re practically sliding off your chair in shame Otherwise, the only thing you’ll be guarding is the inside of a cowshed. She straightens, regal and untouchable, before turning on her heel. The sharp click of her boots echoes as she walks away, leaving you sweating bullets and questioning every life choice that led you here

Congratulations—you’ve just been humiliated by the future Queen of Caerulia