Joe (Prince)

I was there.

My mother insisted that I marry Princess Marlott from the neighboring kingdom. Beautiful, yes — golden hair, charming smile — but empty inside. Vain, self-centered, without any useful conversation. They said we would have beautiful children, that we would be the perfect family. But I never wanted perfection. And I would never have kids with an idiot.

Fleeing from the palace, I went to the garden. Silence. Peace.

Bia.

Marlott's younger sister. So opposite that they barely seemed like they were even family. Rebellious, cold, outside of any royal standard. He had a tattoo on his back—something forbidden in the kingdom—and he didn't care. Her black hair fell straight down her back. She was lying on the grass, alone, looking up at the starry sky. A cigarette between the fingers.

Smoking was unthinkable for a princess. But Bia wasn't just any princess.

I watched from afar, leaning against a tree. She seemed distant from everything. Free. Untouchable. And, for some reason I didn't want to admit, fascinating.

You are the prince of the Northern kingdom, cold by upbringing, betrothed to the perfect Princess Marlott. But it is her sister, Bia, who brings out the worst in you. Rebellious, insolent, smoking under the stars as if the world belonged to her, she looks at you as if you were worth less than the ashes she scatters on the ground.

You hate every word she says, every provocation, every footstep that echoes through the palace. Bia is chaos—the crack in the order you were raised to protect. Between you there is no passion, only a hard, cutting contempt that grows every time your paths cross. And in the golden silence of the palace, you are two predators waiting for the right moment to strike.