Princess Catherine hurried through the palace corridor, the hem of the plain dress brushing softly against the marble floor. She stopped beside one of the side entrances where her maid waited anxiously.
"There you are, Your Highness!" the maid whispered in relief.
Catherine quickly removed the simple shawl she had worn and handed it back.
"Thank you for lending me your clothes," Catherine said gently. "I appreciate it."
The maid lowered her head. "It's nothing, Your Highness… but if anyone had seen you—"
"They didn't," Catherine replied softly.
The maid relaxed slightly. "You should hurry," she added. "The bridal tutors are already waiting."
Catherine nodded and gathered her composure before walking toward the training hall. The brief moment of freedom in the greenhouse faded behind her. Now she returned to duty.
The bridal lessons lasted hours.
Catherine sat upright while elderly court ladies explained every detail expected of an imperial bride.
"How a wife must behave before her husband."
"How a future empress must carry herself."
Catherine listened quietly. She memorized every instruction perfectly, just as she had done with every lesson her entire life.But some of the topics made her fingers tighten slightly in her lap.
One of the instructors spoke firmly.
"A wife must devote herself entirely to her husband's household."
Another added with a knowing smile,
"And she must ensure the continuation of the royal line."
Catherine kept her expression calm.But inside, something uneasy stirred.These were things she had known would come someday and yet hearing them spoken so directly felt different and heavier.
By the time the lessons finally ended, the sun had already begun to set.
Catherine walked slowly through the garden path, her thoughts still tangled in the things she had learned. Then she stopped. She remembered the handkerchief, the one she had been sewing earlier beneath the greenhouse tree. She had left it there.
Without hesitation, she turned and walked toward the pink diamond greenhouse.
The vine-covered gate creaked softly as she pushed it open. Catherine walked to the place where she had been sitting, but the handkerchief was gone.
She searched beneath the tree, around the bench and along the grass, but found nothing.
Catherine exhaled softly and straightened.
There was nothing more she could do.
That night she returned to her chamber and the room felt strangely large and quiet.
Catherine removed her hairpins and let her silver hair fall across the pillows as she lay down on her bed.
For the first time that day, she allowed herself to stop thinking like a princess and her gaze drifted toward the ceiling. Her mind returned to the lessons.
The expectations.
The duties.
The things a wife must do.
The things she must become.
A strange unease settled in her chest, something unfamiliar. Catherine turned slightly, pulling the blanket closer.
Soon she would leave this palace.Leave her siblings, the gardens and the memories of her mother.
She closed her eyes. "I will do what is required," she murmured quietly to herself.
It was the same promise she had always made.
Duty before everything. Always.
-----
The next morning, Catherine's chamber was unusually quiet.
The large traveling chest at the foot of her bed stood open, filled neatly with folded gowns, letters, and small belongings prepared for the journey to Aurora Vale. Servants had already packed most of what a princess was expected to bring—jewelry, ceremonial robes, books of etiquette, and gifts for the imperial court.
But Catherine sat on the floor beside the chest with a much smaller box in her hands.
Inside were the things that mattered.
A ribbon her mother once tied in her hair.
A small painting she had made years ago beneath the greenhouse tree. And a white handkerchief embroidered with a delicate flower.
Her fingers lingered on it for a moment before placing it carefully inside the box.
"Are you done with the preparations?"
Catherine turned.
Isabella stood at the doorway, leaning against the frame with her usual playful expression. But today, there was something softer behind her eyes.
She walked inside and sat beside her sister, looking into the chest. "Is that all you're taking?"
"The rest has already been packed."
Isabella picked up the small painting.
"You made this when you were fourteen," she said quietly.
"Yes."
"Mother liked this one."
Catherine nodded softly.
For a moment neither of them spoke, then Isabella asked the question she had clearly been holding back.
"Catherine…"
"Yes?"
"Will you love him?"
Catherine paused.
"The prince." Isabella hugged her knees.
"You're going to marry him. You'll live in another kingdom with him forever. Doesn't that mean you'll fall in love eventually?"
Catherine looked toward the window where the morning light spilled across the room.
"I never had expectations to begin with, so who knows." she said calmly.
Isabella tilted her head. "What do you mean?"
Catherine's voice remained gentle, but there was a quiet realism beneath it.
"Did you notice what arrived from Aurora Vale?"
"The Crown prince?"
Catherine shook her head slightly. "A delegation."
Isabella blinked.
"A delegation comes for negotiations. For alliances." Catherine said, her expressions serious.
Isabella went silent.
"You don't have to worry about all this, my dear." Catherine said softly patting her sister's head.
------
Meanwhile, The formal audience with the Ruler of Eurin had ended more smoothly than Noah Brighton had expected. Still, diplomacy—no matter how successful—always left a lingering weight.
He rarely allowed himself moments of idleness, but after hours of negotiation—and hours more watching the Crown Prince behave as though this entire mission were little more than an extended holiday—he needed air.
Noah Brighton found himself walking the same garden path for the third time. He stopped beside a familiar vine-covered gate.
The greenhouse.
He had not planned to return here. At least, that was what he told himself but his feet had carried him here again.
"This is ridiculous, maybe I really need some sleep." he thought.
He did not even know her name and yet the memory of silver hair and quiet humming that she refused was her, refused to leave his mind.
Before he could decide whether to step inside again BY CHANCE, laughter echoed across the garden.
Noah turned.
A small boy ran across the grass chasing a wooden toy sword while a maid tried unsuccessfully to keep up with him.
"Your Highness, slow down!"
The boy stopped suddenly when he noticed Noah.
His eyes widened with curiosity. "You're tall."
Noah blinked. "…Thank you?"
The boy walked straight up to him and stretched out his hand showing him a wooden carved figure toy of a knight.
"Are you a knight?"
"No."
"A prince?"
"No."
"A spy?"
"No."
The boy narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
"Then what are you?"
Noah paused. "Ah-"
The boy circled him like he was inspecting a rare animal. "Do you have a castle?"
"Yes."
"Do you fight dragons?" His eyes lightened up.
"…No."
"You are boring."His expressions changed quickly much to Noah's surprise.
Noah sighed quietly.
This was unfamiliar territory. He had never had younger siblings, nor children around him. He considered escaping because that was his only way out.
But the boy suddenly grabbed his sleeve.
"My name is Edward!"
Noah looked down. "…Nice to meet you."
Edward beamed. "Play with me!"
The maid looked apologetic. "I'm terribly sorry, Your Grace—"
"It's fine," Noah said calmly.
He crouched slightly so he was at the boy's height.
Edward immediately started explaining the rules of a game Noah did not fully understand. Still, he listened patiently.
Across the garden, Catherine had just arrived. She had come to retrieve her brother before dinner, but she stopped the moment she saw the scene. Edward and Noah.
Instinctively, she stepped behind a large tree. From there, she watched quietly.
Edward was excitedly talking while Noah listened with surprising patience.
Catherine blinked slightly. She had not expected that.
A breeze passed through the garden, lifting strands of her silver hair.
Without realizing it, a small gentle smile appeared on her face.
Behind her— "BOO!"
Catherine nearly jumped. "Isabella!"
Her sister grinned mischievously before suddenly freezing.
"Oh."
She followed Catherine's gaze.
"That man is handsome."
Isabella squinted.
"Are you sure he isn't the prince?"
"He came with the delegation."
Isabella leaned closer. "How did you know?"
Catherine averted her eyes. "A-A maid told me."
But Isabella suddenly looked at her again.
"…Wait."
Catherine quickly turned away.
Isabella's jaw dropped but she decided to stay silent.
A few minutes later Noah stood again, looking around the garden. The melody of humming was nowhere to be heard. He frowned slightly. Perhaps he had imagined her after all.
-------
Days passed. It was finay the big day. The wedding day. The day Catherine's life was going to take a turn for better or worse.
Inside the grand cathedral, Catherine stood before the mirror as attendants finished preparing her gown.
The silver-white dress shimmered like moonlight.
Catherine looked at her reflection. This was it. The moment she had prepared for her entire life.
Meanwhile, in another chamber—
Noah stood across from Crown Prince Arthur.
"You know what you must do," Noah said seriously.
Arthur smirked. "Yes, yes. Stand at the altar. Say the vows."
"Take this seriously."
"I am."
Noah frowned slightly. Something about Arthur's expression bothered him.