Chapter 1: Chains of Gold

Leo’s POV

I was always in love with cheesy, old-fashioned romance books. The kind with handwritten letters, stolen glances, slow dances under candlelight. The kind where love defies everything—duty, war, even time. Who wouldn’t want that? 

But reality has a way of sinking its claws into you just when you start to dream. Especially when you’re me. Because the truth is… my life doesn’t even belong to me. It belongs to my King.  And as his son – Prince Leopold of the Seraphine Lineage – my life is a map drawn by someone else. My desires are weaknesses, my choices already made, my heart locked away behind royal decree. That’s what my father always said, anyway. I doubted him. Of course, I did. I still do. But what could I possibly do to change it?

On the evening of my 18th birthday, the palace was glowing. Golden chandeliers bathed the ballroom in light. Velvet curtains brushed the floor. Dozens of nobles swirled in formal dress, their faces painted with smiles that meant nothing. Music swelled from the string quartet in the corner. I wore the ceremonial white, the color of purity, tradition, and duty. The fabric itched against my skin like chains.

My father – His Majesty, the King – stood beside me, one hand heavy on my shoulder. His grip tightened as he leaned in to whisper, “Straighten your back.” A moment later, his voice echoed through the ballroom. “Tonight,” he declared, “we honor not only my son’s birth, but his future. A union of noble bloodlines. The continuation of a legacy.” He pulled me forward, toward a young woman standing near the dais. At her side stood a tall man with an intimidating presence and a watchful gaze. Her body stiffened as we approached, but her smile was perfect. She had russet-brown hair that caught the candlelight, and hazel eyes that seemed too wide, too alert, to be relaxed. I recognized the look. I wore it too, most days. They both bowed. “Your Majesty,” she said. Then her eyes flicked to me. “Prince Leopold. It’s an honor.” “Lady Kalyna of House Fairtelly,” my father announced with forced warmth. “Your future wife.” My stomach turned. I bowed my head slightly, schooling my expression into something polite. “A pleasure, my lady.” She smiled. I didn’t miss the way her eyes darted toward the man beside her. “We are deeply grateful that you’ve chosen to keep this arrangement,” her father, or perhaps a lord, said smoothly. “Even after… recent scandals. That is not a given.” I felt the air in the room tighten. My father’s gaze was cold, daring me to speak out. I knew exactly what he was referring to.

The incident. The photos. The boy.
My boy – even if just for a moment.

We denied it, of course. Said it was nothing. But the rumors had already taken flight, the press digging deeper, speculating. My father swore to bury it. And now, here I was, proving my loyalty to the kingdom. To appearances. “Yes, of course,” I said, voice calm, heart thudding. “I will never be able to thank you enough for… honoring the arrangement.” The lie sat heavy on my tongue.