Prince Arthur

He entered the most secluded room in the museum and saw a huge mirror covered by a blue cloth. A small plate read: "Mirror of Destiny – make a wish and see the reflection of your soul." Ana smiled slightly, in disbelief, and said softly: "Okay, mirror... if that king really exists, take me to him." The curtain rose by itself. A golden glow covered the room. The music from the box started playing by itself inside the backpack. Ana was pulled without warning, as if the ground disappeared. He felt his heart beat fast. He felt the air change. He felt time stop. And then… it fell. Between leaves, branches and a sky that was no longer his. She opened her eyes slowly, lying on the grass. The sun was different. The wind smelled of wild roses. The forest was silent—and hauntingly beautiful. Ana stood up, brushed off her pants, adjusted her backpack on her shoulders, and looked around, confused. That's when he heard the horses approach... And a blue gaze, coming from a prince riding a white horse, crossed time and reached her heart.

And at that moment, without knowing how, Ana understands: “The king who waited… was 17 years old. And he was before her.”

Ana was born on a rainy morning on August 16th, in a small town surrounded by buildings, honking horns and the hustle and bustle of modern life. Her mother said that heaven created with joy that day—and that Ana was born with her eyes open, as if she were already searching for something beyond the hospital walls. From an early age, she was different. While other children wanted tablets and electronic toys, Ana asked for fairy tale books, antique dresses, and music boxes. At the age of 6, I already knew there were worlds beyond what we saw. "The real world is a little too noisy for me," she said, headphones always hanging around her neck. She grew up with her mother in a simple house filled with books on crooked shelves, old paintings, and soft lighting. Her bedroom was her refuge: walls adorned with old maps, black-and-white photos, and a small table filled with delicate makeup—which she wore her own way, pairing dark lipstick with a printed T-shirt. Ana liked feeling out of time. She loved reading by the light of a lamp, with a cup of tea beside her, while playing her music box that she inherited from her grandmother. His favorite book was a nearly forgotten novel called “The King Who Waited,” the story of a prince from a distant kingdom who would only marry a woman who came “from another age.” She read that book so many times that she memorized a phrase that she repeated like a mantra:

“Maybe true love needs two times to exist.

At 14, he began to feel like he didn't fit into today's world. At 15, he began writing letters to an “imaginary prince.” At 16, he began to dream of a castle and a voice that whispered his name. Now, having turned 17 that very day, Ana decided to do something different. I didn't want a party, or a cake. I wanted peace. She grabbed her plaid backpack and set off alone to a museum of ancient exhibits that had arrived in town. It featured forgotten kingdoms, swords, medieval jewelry, and mirrors from ancient castles.

Arthur was born on a rainy night, when thunder echoed through the skies of the kingdom of Elarion. His cradle was placed in a tower near the castle gardens—not in the heart of the throne, but on the outskirts of the palace, where the sound of nature was more present than that of the royal trumpets.

The only son of King Roderic and Queen Celene, Arthur came into the world surrounded by pomp and expectation. But even so small, there was something different about this baby with the deep blue eyes: he didn't cry easily. He watched. He felt.

The kingdom celebrated. The people said:

—The heir has been born. One day, he will be a king as wise as his father.

But few knew that behind the king's strength was an empty heart. Roderic was forced to marry Celene, a noble lady, for political reasons. But his true love… was a golden-eyed girl who disappeared when he was still young. And that love was never forgotten.

Arthur grew up in that silent castle. He was cared for by nannies and tutors, while the queen tended to court affairs and the king rarely smiled.

At the age of 5, he already knew how to behave at real dinners. At 7, he learned to ride. By age 10, he could fight with a sword and speak three languages.

But no one taught him what he wanted to understand most: true love.

He saw couples in gardens. Servants falling in love. Books that speak of soulmates. And whatever he read something like that, Arthur would stop. I could feel my chest tighten. And I would think:

— Will someone ever look at me like they do in books?

At the age of 13, he began refusing to dance with young ladies at parties organized by the council. At 15, she refused the first engagement proposal. At 16, he confronted his father at a meeting:

— I can't marry someone who doesn't awaken anything in me. — he said firmly.

The king didn't answer. He just looked at his son with a mixture of pride and pain—as if he saw in him the same emptiness that had haunted him for years.

Since he was born, Arthur knew that his life was not his own. The only son of the great King Roderic, a wise and respected man, the prince huddled within the walls of a castle on display, among ancient books, sword training and long, silent dinners where everything has already been decided for him.

Since he was little he heard phrases like: — One day, he will be king. — You need to learn to choose wisely. — A prince must marry a noble lady, of good blood.

But Arthur never believed that love could be born like this... out of obligation. The king, his father, had ruled justly, but there was a secret no one spoke aloud: he never truly married. He had a queen chosen by the council, but his heart always belonged to another... a woman he lost before he took the throne.

And perhaps that's why Arthur grew up believing he didn't want the same fate. He turned down dozens of suitors. Beautiful, intelligent, wealthy women... but none of them sparked that silent flame in his chest, that feeling that someone understands you without saying a word.

Sometimes Arthur would walk alone through the castle gardens, looking up at the sky and singing:

— Is true love just a legend? — And if it exists... where is it?

His people were beginning to press on. The king was aging. And the prince needed to choose a future queen. But he couldn't just marry anyone... he was hoping for something he didn't yet know was real.

Until the day a girl in strange clothes fell from the sky—and messed up everything he believed in.