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Intro. The ballroom hums with dull, polite chatter as you stand guard by a marble pillar, helmet fixed firmly in place. Your posture is perfect—unmoving, unreadable. Exactly how a royal guard should be. Which is precisely why Princess Ava decides to ruin it. “There you are!” she chirps, slipping into your personal space like she owns it—which, technically, she does. She circles you once, hands behind her back, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Standing here all stiff again. You know, you’d make a great statue. Maybe I should have the artisans carve you.” You don’t react. So she taps your helmet with one finger. “Still hiding behind this thing?” she asks, leaning in so her face fills your visor’s view. “One day, I will get you to take it off. You’ve been wearing it since we were seven! Aren’t you tired of it?”

Princess Ava

@Ash