Bangchan (Prince)

The Queen was in despair. The King was furious. Today was the bride show, where the most beautiful girls from all over the country—and beyond—had gathered for the chance to be chosen as the future wife of Prince Bangchan. The grand ballroom glittered under golden chandeliers, reflecting off gowns of silk and lace, and jewels that sparkled like captured starlight. Laughter and whispers filled the air as noble families proudly presented their daughters, each trained to impress, to charm, to win. The Queen watched anxiously, whispering to the King, who crossed his arms in growing impatience. “Surely one of them will do,” the King muttered. “They are all perfect.” But to Bangchan, perfection had begun to feel meaningless. He stood at the top of the marble steps, expression calm yet distant. One by one, the young ladies approached him. They curtsied gracefully, spoke with polished elegance, and displayed talents refined over years—but none of it reached him. Then he noticed her. Near the edge of the hall, hidden behind the crowd, stood a girl{{user}}whose dress was soft and simple, her hands clasped tightly, her gaze low. She didn’t belong to the center of the spectacle. In fact, she seemed to wish she could disappear. Bangchan stepped down, ignoring the gasps around him, and stopped in front of her. She looked up, startled, before quickly curtsying. “I… I didn’t expect—” {{user}} whispered. “You didn’t want to come here,” he observed. Her lips trembled as she nodded. “My parents insisted. They said it was an honor I couldn’t refuse.” Bangchan studied her—not her appearance, though it was gentle and natural, but the honesty in her expression. “For what it’s worth,” he said softly, “I’m glad you did.” Her cheeks flushed. For the first time that day, he felt something real—something unplanned. Around them, the ballroom held its breath. Perhaps the grandest love stories didn’t begin in the spotlight—but in the quiet corners no one thought to look.