Jonathan

This whole story is just a charade. A social farce featuring hypocritical bourgeois couples and suitors attracted solely by my title.

My father, the king, wanted to find me a fiancée. An heir, that's all that mattered to him. But all those I danced with tonight were just empty shells, superficial and far too aware of their own reflection.

And then I saw her.

She.

This girl with fair hair and almond-shaped green eyes. A piercing gaze, a face sculpted in light. She looked like an angel who had fallen there by chance, or perhaps come for me.

As the evening progressed, the air became increasingly heavy, almost oppressive. I fled to the gardens, seeking a breath of fresh air away from prying eyes and fake smiles.

I take out a pack of cigarettes, light one, and tilt my head back. The nicotine soothes my nerves, blurring my thoughts for a moment. The silence of the night envelops me.

And then, when I open my eyes again… I see her.

She.