Chapter 3

Miu’s POV

After a series of dashes across the southeast fields, our laughter mixing with the wind, we eventually found ourselves in a small vineyard, hidden at the edge of the land, fingers still entwined as if holding onto the freedom of the moment.

“Your Highness!”

The shout came from one of the farmers who had noticed me first. Laughter and lightheartedness evaporated instantly as every head bowed, the joy of our little escape replaced by visible panic.

I scanned the small crowd. They seemed to be celebrating something—modest, yet heartfelt. A stone table was set with simple dishes, barely enough for one family, but enough for them to smile and offer what they had. I could tell even that much came at some cost.

“Your Highness, what brings you here?” the farmer asked again, keeping his head low.

A woman spoke this time. Her voice was quiet, almost trembling, and cradling a tiny infant who sucked its thumb against her chest. “We apologize if our small celebration has… bothered your presence. You may take anything you wish as our apology.”

My smile faltered.

I hated this. Hated the way their instinct at the sight of me was fear. Hated that my mere presence could make them shrink, bow, apologize. My jaw tightened, anger and sadness coiling in equal measure.

“Rise.” My voice cut through the quiet. “If there is one who should apologize, it is us. We have disrupted your feast. Please… forgive our intrusion.”

My words drew cautious glances from the crowd. Some dared to lift their heads, meeting my eyes. Others still clutched their children a little tighter.

“Please… continue on,” I said, stepping back slowly from their modest celebration. I offered a soft smile and glanced at Lena.

She returned it with that knowing look, the one that always told me she understood. A subtle nod. Our cue. Time to leave.

But then my eyes drifted back to the stone table. The simple feast they had set out, meager as it was, stirred something in me. Even our plain breakfasts at the palace were more filling than what they had here.

I froze.

My hand found the hem of my sleeve, brushing the golden cufflinks at my wrist. I hesitated, swallowed. Then I spoke again, my voice firm but gentle.

“Wait.”

Heads turned, and the people—unsure, cautious—kneeled once more.

I stepped forward, crouching slightly to meet their eyes. “Please… take this. Get everything you need for this feast. Not every day do we get to celebrate simply being gathered… being alive.”

I removed the cufflinks and held them out. They glinted in the sunlight, modest in their simplicity but precious to me.

“Your Highness…” the farmer murmured, voice trembling, eyes glistening.

I stood and let my gaze sweep over them. Their heads were no longer bowed. Some looked to their friends and family, whispering quietly, while others’ eyes met mine, questioning, searching. They didn’t understand my gesture, or perhaps they were surprised that someone like me could care at all.

“I…” I struggled, the words stuck somewhere between my chest and my lips.

Then, a hand touched my shoulder.

I turned—and there she was. Lena. Smiling at me, steady, unwavering. That smile… It reminded me of everything. That someone trusted me. That someone believed in me, even now.

Her presence gave me strength.

“I may be a descendant of King Arthur III… but I am nothing like him. I will never be like him.” I said quietly, voice carrying just enough for the people to hear. “And I may not be a king yet,”

Their eyes widened, some still unsure, but I didn’t falter. I could feel Lena’s grip on my hand, grounding me.

“But in a year, when I come of legal age, I will claim my right to this crown.” I drew a deep breath, letting the words taste of fire and hope. “And when that day comes, I will not inherit a kingdom of fear. I will fight… I will win… and I will change everything. Everything… for the better.”

The crowd stared in stunned silence, some whispering among themselves. But I didn’t care. I wasn’t doing this for their approval. I was doing it for them. For the people who lived in fear, who celebrated small joys like this vineyard feast, who deserved a ruler who would stand with them—not above them.

I glanced at Lena. Her smile didn’t waver, but I saw it soften—pride, faith, trust. She believed in me, and that was enough to steel my resolve.

A wind blew through the vineyard, carrying with it the scent of ripe grapes and warm earth. I clenched my fists, feeling it ignite something inside me.

One day… I will change everything.

And in that moment, I promised myself—I would not fail.

We eventually left the vineyard and went on with our little endeavor, wandering through the empty lands and forests along the southeast border of Elysia. These paths were familiar—places where the crown felt distant and the world felt almost kind.

When the sky began to darken, Lena slowed her steps.

“So… about earlier,” she said.

I already knew what she meant. “The vineyard?”

She nodded. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.”

She stopped walking. “Matthew.”

I turned to face her.

“You know you’ll be sixteen by winter next year,” she continued. “You keep saying that like it’s an easy promise.” Her hands moved as she spoke—too much, too fast. “Do you really plan to go against him by then?”

I didn’t answer right away.

“Do you even have a plan?” she asked. “People who would stand with you? The throne isn’t something you can just—”

I caught her hand before she could finish.

She blinked. “You’re doing that thing again.”

“What thing?”

“Smiling like everything’s already decided.”

I smiled anyway.

“I don’t have all the answers,” I said. “Not yet.”

“That’s not comforting.”

“I know.” I squeezed her hand. “But I know what I won’t do.”

She waited.

“I won’t become him.”

Her expression softened, just a little.

“And I won’t let the kingdom stay like this,” I added. “Even if it takes time. Even if it costs me everything.”

The wind passed between us, carrying the scent of earth and dusk.

Lena’s voice dropped. “That’s a dangerous promise.”

“Maybe,” I said. “But it’s the only honest one I have.”

“Prince Matthew.”

The single call sliced through the warmth of the moment.

I froze.

At the edge of the path stood my mother—Queen Alice—flanked by a dozen guards, their presence unnecessary and unmistakable all the same.

“Mother,” I muttered, releasing Lena’s hand without thinking.

“Your Grace,” Lena said quickly, bowing so low I could hear her breath catch.

My mother’s gaze lingered on her for a moment too long before she moved closer, her steps unhurried, measured.

“Care to explain,” she asked, eyes returning to me, “why the palace has been missing its prince for most of the day?”

I opened my mouth. Closed it.

“We were studying,” I said finally. “Geography.”

Her brow lifted. Just slightly. “In the southeast fields?”

I had no answer for that.

Her attention shifted back to Lena. “Lady Lena.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“It is… unwise,” my mother said evenly, “for a young lady to be seen alone with a young man. Appearances matter more than intentions.”

“I understand,” Lena said at once. “I apologize.”

“So do I,” I added. “This was my idea.”

My mother didn’t argue. That somehow made it worse.

“Lady Lena,” she continued, “you should find your father. The Duke has been looking for you.”

Lena stiffened. “My father?” Her voice wavered. “Did something happen?”

My mother’s expression didn’t change. “It would be best if you heard it from him.”

Lena’s eyes flicked to mine. Just for a second. Long enough to make my chest tighten.

“I’ll… excuse myself,” she said, already stepping back.

“Lena—” I took a step after her.

A hand caught my sleeve.

“Matthew.”

I turned back to my mother, her grip firm—unyielding.

Lena disappeared down the path without looking back.

And just like that, the world felt heavier again.