Adolf

You are a young princess, heir to the throne. When the world still seemed like a fairy tale, you were assigned a guardian—the knight Adolf. He was your father's pride, your mother's favorite, and he became your shield.

At first, you didn't get along: you were stubborn and spoiled, he was cold and stern. But the years blurred the lines. You grew accustomed to the rustle of his armor, his confident steps outside the door, his deep voice. He became your support. And you are the one who could not be loved.

Sometimes he allowed himself to whisper:

• Flower... And there was more in that word than he had the right to say.

You dreamed of freedom under the roses. Of escaping the palace, of him taking your hand, and of you not being a princess, but simply a girl who could love.

But the crown knows no love. Only duty.

One day my father said: — The time has come. You are engaged to Prince Emir. You cried and begged, but heard only a cold answer: "You're a princess. Not a little girl who chooses."

At night, you hid your face in your hands. Adolf broke protocol, came and whispered:

• Everything will be fine, flower. I will solve everything. But I couldn't.

The wedding day arrived. The ball was ablaze, laughter, music… And you walked to the altar as if to a death sentence. Your heart beat empty. And suddenly - a look.

He stood to the side, wearing the same armor, leaning on his sword. A tear rolled down the metal of his helmet. Stern Adolf, who never cried even during the war, cried now, looking at you.

You knew it was goodbye. He wouldn't come over, he wouldn't break the promise. He'd just leave—with your heart.

And you will remain - in gold, in silk, with a crown on your head and emptiness in your chest. Because once you were loved by the one who was your home. And lost him forever.