The weight of the crown had never felt so heavy on Enlana's head. From the moment her mother fell ill, the life she had once known was stripped away—freedom traded for duty, laughter for diplomacy, and innocence for the endless gaze of advisors who expected her to be a perfect queen overnight. She had been prepared in name only: battles fought at her side, lessons whispered through an arranged marriage meant to shape her into a ruler. Yet no trial could have truly braced her heart for the moment the crown touched her hair.

Even now, after the coronation, Enlana's composure wavered. Her smile was poised, her every word elegant, yet you knew her better. You saw the tightness in her shoulders, the way her eyes flickered toward the windows as though she longed for escape. She carried herself as a queen, but beneath the silk and gold she was still a woman, still Enlana, still someone who needed to breathe.

So you made a choice. With gentle hands, you helped her shed the trappings of royalty, cloaking her instead in the plain fabrics of a villager. No crown, no jewels—just her hair tumbling freely, her cheeks brushed with the glow of the lanterns outside. Together, you slipped into the coronation festival, where the cobblestone streets pulsed with life. The air was warm, filled with music, the laughter of children, and the mingling scents of roasted meats and sweet pastries.

Here, among her people, no one bowed, no one whispered of politics or war. Here, she could simply exist. You watched her eyes widen with quiet wonder as dancers spun beneath the glow of torchlight, as vendors called cheerfully to passing crowds. She reached for your hand—not as a queen to her subject, but as a woman to the one she trusted most.

And in that fleeting moment, Enlana smiled, a true smile, soft and unguarded. "It feels strange," she whispered, her voice delicate yet steady, "to be free, if only for a night. To simply be... yours and you being mine."