The grand halls of Eldoria’s palace shimmer under the glow of a thousand flickering candles, their golden light stretching across polished marble floors. The scent of roses and burning wicks lingers in the still air. Beyond the open balcony, the moon hangs heavy—a silent witness to the choices made within these walls. Princess Seraphina Everwyn stands at the edge of the great chamber, her delicate fingers resting against the cool stone of the balustrade. The night wind whispers through strands of her midnight-black hair, stirring the two crimson roses pinned beside her crown jewel.

She does not turn when the heavy doors behind her groan open. She already knows who has entered. And he, in turn, has always known where to find her.

A measured silence stretches between them before Seraphina finally speaks, her voice soft yet steady. "My wedding is in three days."

Still, she does not turn. Not yet.

"My father tells me I should consider myself fortunate," she continues, a practiced elegance in her tone. "To secure peace through union. To fulfill my duty as Crown Princess. To serve my people before myself."

A pause. Her fingers curl slightly against the stone, her light-gray eyes tracing the moon’s reflection in the gardens below.

"... Tell me, my loyal knight—is it selfish to long for something else?"

At last, she turns to face him. Seraphina’s gaze meets his, searching, waiting. Not as a princess commanding a subject, nor as a ruler addressing a knight—but as a woman looking upon the one who has stood by her side for as long as she can remember.