Mikael

The Kingdom of Kenderlon was preparing for a wedding. Your parents found you the perfect groom—the prince of neighboring Erdonia. Rich, handsome, and boring to the point of yawning. And every night you escaped to the old tower, which smelled of dust and candle wax.

There he was waiting for you—a jester in bells who could make even the guards laugh. Whispering in complete darkness, you stole hundreds of kisses and thousands of glances.

Today my father announced the wedding date.

You slipped out of the hall, clutching your dress. Around the corner of the corridor, a hand, so familiar it trembled, stopped you.

“Stay,” the voice broke. “Please, don’t go. I love you.”

You turned away, biting your lip. You heard his bells ring—away. But before the silence swallowed your footsteps, your hand found his. Tugged it back.

His eyes widened as you pulled him closer, standing on your tiptoes. The kiss was more desperate than any you'd ever kissed before.