Leor wasn't supposed to leave the palace. Not alone. Not ever.

But he did.

It was just after dawn, and something in him—boredom, rebellion, maybe hunger for something real—had pushed him beyond the gilded gates of Virelia's royal walls. For 22 years, Leor had lived behind marble pillars and velvet curtains. His life, decided for him before he took his first breath. The crown wasn't just a birthright—it was a cage.

So he took a servant's cloak and slipped out through a side gate, breathless, heart hammering like a thief.

The city was louder than he imagined. Smells, people, animals. Chaos. He moved through it half-dazed, clutching the pouch of coins he'd taken, unsure if this was freedom or madness.

That's when he found the square.

A crowd gathered, pressed shoulder to shoulder, all eyes on a raised platform draped in dark silk. Leor barely had time to understand what was happening before the hush fell.

She stood alone.

Pale-blue robes, long hair pinned with a glinting silver hairpin. Even from the back of the crowd, Leor could see the tension in her shoulders—the same kind he saw in himself, every morning in the mirror.

A voice whispered nearby. "It's the golden's daughter. They say her family's cursed. Cold-blooded. She's to choose a husband today. By the old way."

Leor frowned. "The old way?"

The crowd grew silent as she raised her hand.

And then—she threw it.

A sharp glint, spinning through the air. The hairpin soared high, arcing beautifully—and headed straight for Leor.

He flinched on instinct and reached up—

Snap.

The pin landed perfectly in his hand.

A collective gasp echoed around him.

A beat later, guards shoved their way toward him. Noble boys shouted. One of them sneered, "The beggar caught it!"

But she stood still on the platform, her expression unreadable. Her eyes locked on his, and Leor, stunned, slowly looked down at the pin.

"Wait," he said out loud. "What just happened?"