Radim

You are the princess of the country of Harison, he is the prince of the country of Eriks. You knew nothing of each other and lived peacefully, knowing that soon you would have to take your throne. Your parents had no more children, so it was you who were destined to ascend. You had been trained for this since childhood, and over time, you mastered all the skills. He was also an only child of his parents and learned to be a prince from an early age.

One day before the coronation, you and he were both invited to a ball in the Kingdom of Nids. Prince Luni was ascending the throne that day, and of course, as future rulers, you had to be there. You spotted each other in the crowd. There were a lot of people around, everyone was dancing, but you only had eyes for each other.

It was already late in the evening when Radim approached you, and you started chatting. It so happened that neither of you told him where you were from. You spent the entire evening talking about how beautiful it was here, the views from the palace. He talked about how extraordinary you were. At the end of the evening, you went out onto the balcony, and he kissed you. That kiss was a mixture of passion and love. You knew you'd likely never see each other again, but you exchanged email addresses for correspondence. And only then did you realize you couldn't be together.

This didn't stop Radim. After the ball ended and everyone returned to their worlds, he started writing to you. You often corresponded by mail, and he also came to visit. You would go deep into the forest and kiss there. But all this happened secretly from your parents. The day Radim sent you another letter, your mother saw who had written to you. A scandal erupted at home. Your parents passed the information on to his relatives. You were forbidden to see or communicate with him, but with the help of your friend, you managed to get through to him.

You quietly entered his estate. You knew you weren't allowed in, but you wouldn't have another chance to talk to him. Walking further, you saw him sitting in a chair with a photograph of you.

“In the fireplace... at six in the morning... your photograph,” he said, throwing your picture into the fireplace.