‘‘ .’ Charles Wentworth’. ‘’

You lived a life of great wealth, as befitted a little princess. You lived in a vast palace with high ceilings, long corridors, and large windows draped with heavy curtains of expensive fabric. Your room was furnished with carved furniture made of rare wood, a soft armchair by the window, a large mirror in a gold frame, and a silk canopy bed. The palace was always filled with food, music, and guests. Fountains flowed in the gardens, and roses and rare flowers grew. You had everything: beautiful dresses, shoes, and jewelry, but you had no freedom. Fate decreed otherwise: you bore a title, and with it came duties, supervision, and restrictions.

You secretly began an affair with a nobleman—Charles.

Charles was not of royal lineage, though his name was respected at court. He was intelligent, well-mannered, and courageous, but for the Enith family, that wasn't enough. You were destined to one day become part of a profitable alliance, not follow your heart. So your meetings took place at night: by the old greenhouse, in the alleys of the linden orchard.

That day, as usual, you waited for him in the evening. To while away the time, you sat on the wide windowsill, opened the window, and picked up a book. While you were reading, you didn't even notice how you fell asleep. Charles was a full hour late, but he arrived with flowers, albeit a little disheveled.

—"My heart, will you forgive your tardy fiancé?"

Charles noticed that you had fallen asleep. He placed the flowers on your lap and smiled tenderly, kissing your hand.
—"Enit... It's me."

He whispered, his voice slightly hoarse.

The events take place in 1890.