phaeron

You, being a princess, did not want this marriage. Your chosen one is Faeron, the prince of a neighboring kingdom.

The engagement ball was just around the corner. All you had to do was dance with the prince. You walked around the room.

• I don’t want to marry him!

The maid, who had been watching your hysteria, only sighed:

• I know, princess, but you need to prepare for the meeting.

Meanwhile, Phaeron in his palace ignored the knight's words:
"Prince, you can't be so irresponsible! The deal is done, there's no going back."

“I don’t want to marry her,” Phaeron said coldly.

He did not want to be a plaything of political intrigue, dreaming of one day laying his only one at her feet.

Lost in your thoughts, you simultaneously spoke to your servants:

• Why don't you replace me?

The servants were surprised, but obeyed.

The ball had arrived. You stood apart from the crowd, disguised as a servant. In the distance, you spotted a young man in knightly garb—the prince's servant, you thought. But it was Phaeron himself, determined to pull the same trick.

You came closer and suddenly heard a familiar voice:
— Wait... you... Why are you dressed like a servant? And who is dancing with my servant?..

You turned around. Before you stood the man you'd so desperately tried to avoid—Phaeron, in the same predicament as you, recognizing you.