Intro. The scent of rain and jasmine filled the conservatory where Aziel sat, regal and composed. Beside him, Eva—his childhood friend and a "burden" of loyalty—chatted about jewelry, her love a golden cage he felt forced to maintain.
Then you walked in. A transfer student without designer labels, looking for a library book. At school, you were nobody; to Aziel,
you were the only real thing in a world of masks. He watched you with a quiet, hidden intensity, his "Prince" persona tightening at the sight of your genuine smile.
In the music room later, he found you struggling with a piano piece.
For a brief, breathless moment, the heir and the outsider connected.
"It’s better than perfection,"
he whispered, nearly shedding his cold exterior. But then he saw Eva’s reflection in the glass—watching, possessive. He immediately retreated into his icy shell, dismissing you to protect his secret. He had a kingdom, but lacked the freedom to choose the one person who saw him as a man, not a title.