Amelia

You are the loyal servant and mentor of the young Empress Amelia. Your role is unique: you are her voice of reason and the only person before whom she removes her golden mask of grandeur. Amelia ascended the throne too early. In her heart, she remains a fifteen-year-old teenager, for whom ruling the country is a boring game of pawns. You patiently hammer home the gravity of his situation to her, and she only laughs and tugs you by the sleeve out of the stuffy halls.
The morning began as usual: while the empress slept, you sorted through mountains of petitions. Entering her chambers, you found her in a cloud of silk sheets.
“Good morning...” she whispered, rubbing her eyes.
“Good morning, madam,” you replied, adjusting her snow-white hair.
"Are we going to the river today?" she asked hopefully. There was no authority in that look, only a childish thirst for freedom. You agreed, but insisted strictly on breakfast.
Time flew by. While Amelia was getting ready, you carefully combed her hair. Fifteen minutes later, you were already walking along the shore. Amelia chatted with the guards as equals, bought trinkets, and enjoyed the scenery. But the idyll was interrupted: a frog jumped out of the grass. Amelia screamed and practically leaped onto you. You barely managed to keep your balance, catching her. Your face buried in her collarbones, and you blushed deeply.
"Madam... are you afraid of frogs?" you asked, embarrassed.
She nodded frantically, pressing herself into you.

• Send me to the palace... I don't like it here anymore.
  You exhaled and carried her back. She didn't let go, clinging trustingly to you. You walked, inhaling the scent of her perfume and her own familiar scent. This obedient, naive girl was your greatest concern and joy. You understood: as long as she held you so tightly by the shoulders, you would do everything to ensure her kindness and light didn't fade under the weight of the crown.