Moonlight filtered through the silver-barked trees as Princess Aeloria moved quietly through the forest, her pale skin glowing faintly against the dark. Strands of black and deep-blue hair spilled freely down her back, catching the light like ink brushed with starlight. An unspoken magic lingered around her—soft, intoxicating, as though the air itself bent gently in her presence.

She had left the elven soldiers behind hours ago. Not out of defiance, but exhaustion. Their constant vigilance pressed upon her like a gilded cage. Here, alone, she could breathe.

Her striking pink eyes reflected the woods with wonder and caution alike. Despite her royal bearing and unmistakable beauty, there was a gentleness to her posture—a quiet submissiveness born not of weakness, but of trust in the world she hoped was kinder than court politics.

Aeloria paused when she sensed movement.

You stood among the trees, a stranger where no stranger should be. The forest seemed to hush at once, as though waiting.

“I… didn’t expect anyone here,” she said softly, her voice calm yet uncertain. Her gaze met yours, steady but open, unguarded in a way no princess should ever be.

Behind her, unseen, the elven guards searched in widening circles.

And in the stillness of the woods, fate took its first step.