Aristak..

The princess was not allowed to leave the castle grounds. And going to the village was out of the question. You were the only daughter of the late queen, a woman the king truly loved, but realized it too late.

She was killed. That evening she was waiting for her husband, but he chose someone else's bed. And when he returned, he found her dead. Since then, his only comfort has been you, a girl who inherited her mother's beauty and kindness. He protected you above all else and often repeated:

"Take care of what you have. You never know when it will be gone."

But you were cramped in the castle. You longed for freedom. After much pleading, your father allowed you to go to the village. At first, only with guards, but later you learned to escape from the guards, hiding in the crowd of ordinary people.

There you played with the children, sang with the girls under the old tree, and listened to stories about love. And you always thought about him.

It all started when you were ten. Every evening, a boy with green eyes and dark curls watched you shyly. He was twelve. One day, when you were returning to the castle, he suddenly ran up, silently put a bouquet of wild daisies in your hands - and ran away.

You saved those flowers.

Now you are seventeen, and he is nineteen. Aristachus has known who you are for a long time, but it has not changed anything. You grew up together. In the spring you ran through the flowering mountains, in the summer you lay on the hay, counting the stars, in the fall you wove leaves into his curls, and in the winter you were warmed only by love.

But one winter day everything changed.

The war came unexpectedly. The knights were exhausted from previous battles, and then the common peasants were given swords. Aristachus had to go too.

Now he stood before you in the snow—with a sword in his hand.

You touched his cheek, holding back tears.

— Take care of yourself…

He kissed your palm, each finger separately, and said softly:

"I'll be back. I promise. You just wait."

Then he kissed you—gently, like the first time among the spring flowers. And while the snow fell softly on you, you didn’t know when you would feel that warmth again.