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A gentle breeze plays with the lace napkins and the scent of berry jam and blooming jasmine lingers in the air.
I and my three closest companions — Lady Serah, Lady Mira, and Lady Elin — are seated around the tea table, warm laughter still lingering from girlhood secrets shared moments before.
Lady Serah dabbed the corner of her lips with a napkin.
"So, Evelynne, come on now—who's the man that sets your heart on fire? We all know there must be someone."
I smiled faintly, reaching for my teacup. "I think my heart's more interested in peace than fire."
"Elin thinks that too," Mira said sweetly, "until an older duke stares at her too long."
Elin blushed, and the girls burst into laughter again.
"Truly, though," Mira said, leaning in, "has no one ever swept you off your feet? Even just once?"
I paused.
My thumb brushed the edge of my cup.
A memory stirred — not of grand gestures, but of quiet things.
A boy handing me a flower before sword practice.
A late-night talk in the garden.
A letter pressed against my chest.
Lady Serah reached for a cherry tart and leaned back in her chair with a mischievous grin.
"So, if we're truly being honest… what's more important — charm, looks, or mystery?"
Mira giggled. "What happened to kindness?"
"That's boring," Serah waved.
"I want a man who looks at me like I'm the sun and the moon, and would fight a war for me. Bonus if he has a tragic past and a jawline carved by the gods."
Elin chuckled into her teacup. "You've read too many romance books."
"Maybe, but am I wrong?"
Mira smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek.
"I just want someone who listens. Someone who remembers what you said — even the small things. That means everything to me."
I went quiet again, my eyes drifting past the columns toward the garden.
My heart whispered a name I wouldn't say out loud.
Rowen used to remember everything.
My favorite jam. The way I hated lilac perfume.
That I always left the crust of my toast untouched unless he stole it first.
"What about you, Evelynne?" Mira asked gently, drawing me back.
"What would you want?"
Serah leaned forward eagerly. "Yes, Princess. You must have a list. Future Queen and all."
I smiled, soft but sad. "I want someone who sees me… not the crown. Someone who knows who I am when no one's looking. Who remembers who I was before everyone expected me to be perfect."
The girls were silent for a moment.
Then Serah, unusually sincere, said, "That sounds like love."
Before I could answer, the laughter was interrupted by the heavy sound of boots on marble.
The girls turned as four palace guards entered the terrace, carrying ornate wooden boxes wrapped in gold-threaded ribbon.
Behind them walked Rye, dressed in a rich maroon tunic with his family sigil emblazoned on his shoulder.
His hair was windswept but styled, and his smile — as always — effortless.
My body went still.
"Forgive the interruption, ladies," Rye said, his voice echoing with charm.
"I know this is a sacred hour… but I couldn't wait."
He gestured to the guards, who began placing the boxes gently on a side table near me.
"A gift for the Princess," he said,
"each piece chosen with you in mind, Your Highness. Silks from Lysia, a book of poems hand-bound in ink from the East, and a locket with a portrait commissioned just yesterday."
The girls gasped lightly in surprise. Mira whispered, "He brought all of that… for you?"
I stood slowly. "Rye… this isn't necessary."
He stepped forward, voice lowering as if the others weren't there. "But I wanted to. You deserve to be cherished openly, Evelynne. Not in shadows. Not in silence."
My heart sank.
"I've watched you grow into everything a kingdom could dream of," he said clearly.
"And I can't keep pretending to feel otherwise."
The girls went still. Even the breeze seemed to quiet.
Rye stepped closer, just enough to make my breath hitch. "I love you, Evelynne. I don't want to hide it."
My chest tightened — not from joy, but the weight of eyes and expectations pressing in from every direction.
Serah and Mira looked stunned, but Elin watched me closely, as if sensing the tension in my spine.
I looked up at Rye. His smile was perfect. His posture practiced.
His timing… far too calculated.
And yet, I said nothing. Not because I wanted to encourage him — but because what could I say in front of everyone?
I offered the smallest nod. "Thank you," I said softly, politely.
Rye stepped back, satisfied. "I hope these gifts make you smile today, if nothing else."
Then, with a bow, he turned and exited the terrace, leaving his trail of gold-ribboned boxes behind.
The moment he was gone, the girls swarmed me.
"Oh my stars," Serah breathed. "That was… bold."
"That wasn't a gift," Mira whispered. "That was a proposal in disguise."
But I didn't answer. I simply stared down at the unopened boxes, my fingers curling slightly into my skirt.