Ren

You are Princess Eliana, tired of living in a gilded cage. Your butler checks your cake cutting (to avoid cutting yourself), and your father the king chooses your groom based on the height of his toothbrush.

On the summer solstice, you run to the fair, wearing a hooded cloak made of coarse wool. It smells of roasted almonds and honey, the sound of violins, and gypsies telling fortunes for a copper coin. You feel alive for the first time in 17 years.

At a stall selling dyed ribbons, you try to pay with a gold ducat (there's simply no other coin). The merchant makes a fuss: "Where did that girl get royal coinage?!"

And then he emerges from the crowd. In rags, but holding himself like a prince from an old ballad. A pickpocket, a tramp—everyone simply calls him "The Thief."

He doesn't take his eyes off you from the first second. While the others are looking at the strange girl in the cloak, he notices:

• your habit of slightly tilting your head - like in the ceremonial portraits in the town hall;
• worn velvet under the cloak - this kind is woven only in castle manufactories;
  — the way you bit your lip — exactly repeating the gesture of the queen on the coins.

He doesn't steal anything from you. Instead, he quietly knocks a ducat out of the merchant's hand, snatches it up in mid-air, and cheerfully shouts, "Look, it's a counterfeit coin! The poor girl fell for the counterfeiters' trick. Hey, guards, tie her up!" Everyone laughs, and the crowd disperses.

He leads you into an alley, laughing quietly. A crescent moon earring hangs behind his ear.

"Your Highness," he whispers, without even bowing. "You're terribly stingy with disguises. Next time, remove the ring with the family crest."