“...and then, the princess and the prince got married, and the two lived happily ever after.”
In a cozy room lit only by the soft glow of candlelight, a young woman in a servant’s dress, a picture book in hand, read to a little girl sitting in bed.
“The end.”
She closed the picture book with a gentle snap and turned to the girl. The young child’s eyes sparkled, her eyes wide with the magic of the story. Then came a small tip of her head, a quirk of her brow. Had a question crept into her mind?
“Shirley, I have a question,” she said, her voice tinged with curiosity.
“What’s on your mind, young lady?” the young woman, Shirley, replied with a smile.
“What does ‘married’ mean?”
Shirley blinked, taken aback by the question of the young girl, Chloe. She thought for a moment, choosing her words with care. “Well, marriage, you see... It’s a bit complicated for your age, but let’s see. How should I explain this...”
She lapsed into thought for another moment; then, suddenly, she stuck an index finger out into the air—an idea had struck.
“A marriage is like a special promise. It’s when you find someone you love so much, someone you can’t imagine life without, and you promise to be with them always.”
“Wow!” Chloe gasped with childlike wonder. She gave a big nod of her head, as if it all made sense. “Then, when I grow up, I want to marry you, Shirley!” Her voice was earnest, her eyes shining with sincerity. “Because I don’t love anyone more than you!”
Shirley couldn’t help but laugh, touched by the child’s innocence. “That’s very sweet of you, young lady.”
Gently, she reached out to stroke Chloe’s hair, causing the girl to giggle and squint her eyes in delight.
“But the love you feel for me is different from the love in marriage,” Shirley said softly. “There are many kinds of love, you see.”
Chloe frowned slightly, her brow furrowing in confusion. “I don’t understand.”
“One day you will, young lady. One day,” Shirley said, her arms crossed, a wry smile playing on her lips. “When you meet someone who you can’t imagine life without, someone you want to be with forever...” Her voice trailed off, full of a wistful longing that seemed to reach beyond the confines of the room. It was almost a prayer, a whisper of hope lingering in the air. Then, slipping into a smile as tender as a mother’s embrace, with eyes glistening with unspoken dreams, she concluded, “Marry that person, Chloe. And may you live a long, happy life together.”
Chloe gasped.
Her eyes flew open as she woke to the comfort of her blanket and the relentless morning sun sneaking a ray through her curtains. The morning chorus of birds and the familiar hum of early bustle drifted in from outside. She sat up slowly, her mind still clinging to the threads of her dream.
In the time since she had left her home for the capital, Chloe had transformed. Where she had once been frail and unkempt, regular meals and rest had sculpted her into a vision of young beauty. Her features were delicate, yet defined: sleepy, round eyes; a slender nose; and waist-length beige-blonde hair with the slightest hint of pink, tousled from sleep but still lustrous and untangled. Her skin was as white as snow, pristine other than a small mark on her cheek. Though slim, her figure spoke of newfound health and vitality.
“A dream,” she muttered, her voice still thick with sleep. Unlike most mornings, where dreams faded upon waking, this one lingered. It was an old memory from her home, Shadaf, a border region of the Kingdom of Rose—Shirley, her beloved handmaiden, had read her a picture book.
“When, one day, you meet someone who you can’t imagine life without...” she recited, clinging to the memory as though it were a precious jewel.
“Someone you want to be with forever...”
But as she reached the heart of the line, a warmth rose up from within her. Her hands flew to her face, as if to hold back the burgeoning emotions, as if something might happen to her if she were to say the last part out loud.
Before she could, however, there came a knock on the door.
“Chloe, are you awake?” called a familiar, muffled voice.
“Y-Yes, I am!” she responded, a bit too quickly.
The door swung open to reveal the voice’s owner: Lloyd. Her heart began to race at the sight of his formidable frame. He towered over her by two heads, his robust physique a testament to years of discipline. His features were striking—a strong, chiseled nose, lips set in a firm line, highlighted only by his usual impassive expression. His jet-black hair, cut in a no-nonsense style, somehow managed to look both imposing and inviting. Lloyd Stewart, the young knight of the First Order of the Knights Rose, was a man whose gallantry never failed to draw admiring glances wherever he went.
“Something on my face, Chloe?” Lloyd asked.
Chloe’s reaction was immediate; she jerked her head away, her cheeks burning.
“Chloe?”
Finally, she mustered the courage to speak. “I-It’s nothing—absolutely nothing!”
His response came quick, a touch of genuine concern in his voice. “That doesn’t sound like ‘absolutely nothing’ to me.”
Chloe’s heart thrummed, a drumbeat too loud, too early. She took a deep breath, bracing herself to face Lloyd once more. As she did, she noticed something distinctly out of place.
Lloyd was in his uniform.
Uniform? Not his pajamas? Chloe’s groggy morning brain complained. Each morning, like clockwork, Lloyd would appear in his pajamas, ready for the day she would meticulously curate. She would rise before him, prepare a hearty breakfast, pack his lunch, and ensure the house was in order. But now, here he stood, in the attire he wore only when he was about to leave.
The implication behind this newfound reality struck Chloe with the force of a tidal wave. Her face paled.
Lloyd, noticing her distress, sheepishly scratched his cheek. “Sorry,” he began, a hint of awkwardness in his voice. “I came to wake you, but you were sleeping so peacefully, I thought it best to let you rest a bit longer.”
Chloe’s piercing cry, distraught and desperate, reverberated through the house.