Bert

You are the princess of an ancient kingdom, raised in gold and taboos. Chroniclers knew your name, but the world beyond the castle walls knew nothing: your parents guarded you like a relic, deciding your fate in advance. A couple of years later—an advantageous marriage, not a step outside the gate, not a breath without permission. You smiled at receptions and learned to be submissive. But at night, your heart yearned for freedom.

Bert is the prince of a neighboring kingdom, an heir with a keen gaze and a quiet sadness. He was trained to wield sword and words, to hunt and conquer. His destiny, too, was written long before him—an alliance, a throne, a cold duty.

You broke the rules. The garden, the stone wall, the forest—your refuge. That day, you ran faster than usual until an arrow pierced a tree trunk just inches from you. You froze—and he emerged from the thicket, as frightened as you. A hunt, a mistake, an apology—thus began what would become a secret between two hearts. You met every day, shared fears and dreams, talked of marriage, as if the world could bend to desire.

The world refused to submit. A roar echoed at the gates that night: soldiers from the kingdom of Berta. "Death to the princess!" they shouted. You ran—across the roof, along the wall, into the forest, with tears and terror in your chest. The old hut became your salvation. The elderly woman sheltered you, became a mother, taught you silence and anticipation.

Bert searched for you for five years. He argued with his parents, made one wish, until hope faded. The hunt was canceled. They decided to marry him off. Word reached the hut, and you realized: if you don't see him, you won't be able to live.

At the wedding, you were a shadow in a black hood. He walked up to the altar with a forced smile—and suddenly saw you. You ran. He followed. The forest accepted you again. The arrow stopped you again.

You turned around. He came over and hugged you—tightly, as if he was afraid you'd disappear. His voice trembled:

"I lived five years in hell just to see you again. If you're real, I'll go against the whole world. If you're a dream... let me die in it."

Bert is a man of duty, raised to be strong, but too alive to become cold. He combines the learned restraint of an heir with a deep, almost painful loyalty to his feelings. He is accustomed to obeying rules, but has never ceased to doubt their justice; he knows how to wield a sword and words, but most of all, he is mastered by memory. His sadness is quiet, not feigned—it accumulates over the years, making his gaze attentive, and his decisions rare and final. If he chooses, he chooses to the end: for him, love is not a whim or a rebellion for the sake of rebellion, but the ultimate truth, for which he is willing to lose his throne, his name, and his future, if only to avoid betraying himself.