⋆ ˚｡⋆୨Evelynne's pov୧⋆ ˚｡⋆
Nestled between silver-tipped hills and the slow curve of rivers, the kingdom of Elowen slumbered in serenity.
Wildflowers brushed the paths, and cottages wore ivy like shawls. Even the wind seemed to whisper rather than roar,
carrying the scent of rosemary and old stone. The people spoke in gentle tones, never in a hurry, as if the land itself had taught them how to listen before they moved.
Children chased dandelions in meadows where time seemed to pause. Old folks carved wood under the shade of apple trees.
At dusk, the people gathered to share warm bread and stories, their voices rising like embers from the hearth.
It was a kingdom where joy was not just hoped for—it was lived.
At the palace lived the king and queen of Elowen. King Eldric was not a man of gold and jewels, but of oak and earth.
He walked the palace gardens daily, sleeves rolled up, his voice calm like rain on a windowpane. And when he spoke, others listened—not because they had to, but because they wanted to.
And Queen Aurelia, she moved through the halls like sunlight through lace. Her presence was a balm—gentle, unwavering, and impossibly kind. The palace garden bloomed brightest where she walked. She ruled not with commands, but with compassion, making the kingdom flourish under her gaze.
Together, they ruled not from thrones of stone, but from the hearts of their people.
Where King Eldric brought quiet strength and rootedness, Queen Aurelia brought warmth and love.
8 Years Ago
They had me, their little chubby daughter who is now the Princess of Elowen. I'm Princess Evelynne, by the way.
I was just seven years old when I started growing beautiful flowers. I was calm and steady, just like my parents. I was in love with wearing floral dresses that made me look cuter. I loved flowers so much that I studied different kinds at a young age.
So I decided to have my own private garden where I could plant my flowers. Only I was allowed in. I was very strict about that.
Well, who knows—I was just a little girl.
One day, after Aunty Alderra (my personal maid) bathed me and dressed me in my pretty floral dress, I didn't even wait for breakfast. I hurried to my garden, excited to see a new species of flower called 'tulips' growing there.
"Good morning, Princess Evelynne," the two guards at my garden entrance bowed gently.
I didn't even stop to reply—I skipped right inside, closing the fence door behind me.
My garden was vast and spacious. Every flower was planted by me and my mother. It was all tended by hand, loved with a devotion no court could command.
It wasn't just beautiful—it was sacred.
It had all kinds of plants, from the beginning to the end. It even had a tiny resting house and a table for tea parties.
I ran into my little house, grabbed my pen and book, and ran out toward the center.
I squatted down by the growing tulips and giggled softly, scribbling in my notebook.
"It's so pretty," I whispered, tracing the petals. I giggled again, tickled by their softness.
After a while, I noticed a figure near the corner of my eye. I looked up—and there he was.
A boy about my age, with very pale skin and short blond hair that just touched his neck.
He wore black shorts and a white shirt.
"Hey! Who are you?" I called from inside my garden. He didn't answer—he just kept staring.
I tilted my chin, deciding to walk up to him. I ran out of the garden, walking up to where he stood.
"Be careful, Princess," the guards said.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," I waved them off and approached the boy. That's when I noticed—he had green eyes. Real green eyes.
He just kept staring at me.
"What's your name?" I asked softly, tilting my head.
"And why would I tell you?" he said.
"Well, because I'm the princess here. So, who are you?"
He went quiet.
I frowned. "If you won't say anything, then—"
"Rowen, you're here!" An old man appeared, clothes torn and dusty.
He stared at me in shock and bowed. "My princess."
I blinked. Was an old man supposed to bow at me?
"Why do you bow at her, Grandpa?" the boy folded his arms, glaring.
"Shh, don't say that, Rowen... she's the princess of this kingdom. You owe her respect—now and always," the man said gently.
"Rowen? So your name is Rowen!" I smiled.
But he kept glaring. "I hate princesses, Grandpa."
The old man covered his mouth quickly, glancing at the guards in alarm.
"He's just a kid," he said apologetically.
I looked at Rowen. "Don't hate princesses. They're lovely—just like me!" I twirled in my dress.
"You're a fatty," he sneered.
I gasped, covering my mouth.
"Hey! Watch your mouth! I'm not fat. I'm chubby and cute, hmph!" I crossed my arms over my chest.
"No, you're not."
"Yes, I am!"
"No, you're not!"
"Yes, I am!"
"No, you're not!"
"Yes, I am—!"
"Princess Evvy!" Aunty Alderra called out from afar.
"I'm coming!" I shouted, turning to leave. But I looked back at Rowen.
I gave him a little push on the shoulder before running off to Aunty Alderra.
He was about to run after me, but his grandpa stopped him.