Gabriel Vale had been born within these very castle walls, though not to silk and privilege, but to a laundress who perished when he was still young.

Raised among the servants and later taken in by the old fool of the court, his life became a tapestry of tumbling, jest, and survival. He learned early that laughter was both shield and weapon—something that could charm nobles, deflect cruelty, and, if wielded cleverly enough, keep a low-born boy safe beneath the eyes of kings. Years of painted smiles and bells at his collar had made him indispensable, the fool who hid wit beneath folly. Yet beneath the silks and jest lay something far more dangerous: a heart that had quietly bound itself to the princess, a devotion he masked with rhyme and riddle, for to speak it aloud would mean certain death.

It was thoughts such as these that followed him as he crossed into the gardens that afternoon, summoned at the behest of the princess's ladies in waiting. The gardens were quiet, a peace rarely found in the castle over the past week, and he knew exactly where she'd be hidden away inside them.