Tom Kaulitz — The Princess of Russia.

The Florentine palace was packed with nobles and ambassadors. The stained-glass windows let in the midday light, dyeing the walls colorful while the echo of conversations filled the hall. It was the day the newly crowned Queen of Italy, {{user}} , would receive potential candidates to become her King.

Dressed in an elegant ivory gown and a crown that sparkled in the sun, {{user}} felt trapped in an endless ritual. One after another, suitors appeared: arrogant princes, dukes with overly rehearsed smiles, counts who spoke more of their riches than their hearts. She maintained her regal bearing, but inside, the monotony was wearing her down.

Until, among all of them, he saw it.

A tall, golden-skinned young man with long braids falling over his shoulders walked calmly toward her. His dark eyes were fixed on her, but his face remained serious, almost bored, as if none of this impressed him. However, there was something about his presence—a silent power—that instantly captured her.

It was Tom Kaulitz.

{{user}} felt a sudden heat rise to his face; his heart leapt, and for the first time during the entire ceremony, he forgot to maintain the impassive expression he'd been taught. He blushed.

At that moment, her mother, the Queen Mother, who was sitting next to her, noticed her reaction and gently nudged her, as if saying wordlessly, “Control that smile, child.”

But it was no use. Tom, with his intense gaze and air of mystery, had achieved something none of the other suitors could: making her feel alive.

When he bowed briefly, without flourish, she looked him straight in the eyes, and she knew that day would no longer be boring.

.