The five candidates gathered in the grand hall like stars waiting to be named the brightest. Soft murmurs floated between them, stitched with excitement and curiosity.
"An announcement this early?" one whispered.
"Perhaps the second trial will begin sooner," another guessed, adjusting her sleeve with a hopeful smile.
"Or…" a third leaned in slightly, lowering her voice, "a final selection?"

That thought lingered in the air, delicate yet powerful.
At the corner of the hall, partially hidden behind a carved pillar, Anastasia stood still. Her hands were clasped together, her heart far louder than the hushed conversations around her.
Then the doors opened. Prince Adrien entered, Rowan at his side. The room quieted almost instantly. Adrien walked forward with measured steps, his expression calm but his eyes carrying something deeper. Something heavier. He stopped before them. For a moment, he said nothing. Then—
"I must begin with an apology."
The words fell gently, yet they struck the room with quiet force. The candidates exchanged confused glances. Adrien continued, his voice steady but sincere.
"What I am about to say may not be what you expected… nor what you deserve after coming this far."
A faint tension crept into the air. He inhaled slowly.
"Love," he began, "is not something we can summon on command. It does not follow rules, nor does it wait for permission."
The candidates looked at him, uncertainty replacing their earlier excitement.
"It is not influenced by status, by expectations… or even by reason," he added.
One of the girls frowned slightly. Another straightened, as if bracing herself.
Adrien's gaze softened, but his resolve did not waver.
"No matter how much we prepare, how carefully we plan… the heart chooses on its own."
Now the confusion was unmistakable. At the edge of the hall, Anastasia's breath caught. Her fingers tightened slightly against her dress. Say it, she thought. Please… say it properly. Adrien took one final breath. Then he spoke.
"For that reason… I cannot continue these trials."
Silence. It spread like ink in water, swallowing every whisper, every movement. The candidates froze.
"I have fallen in love," Adrien said, his voice quieter now, yet unwavering. "With someone."
No one spoke. No one moved. The grand hall, once filled with anticipation, now stood still… as if even time itself had paused to listen.
Adrien stood still, the silence pressing against him like an unseen weight. For a brief moment, he feared the worst. Then he spoke again, almost urgently, as if trying to hold the fragile moment together.
"This was never planned," he said. "Neither the royal family nor… she… are to be blamed." His voice softened, but did not lose its clarity. "It is my fault alone. I was the one who fell in love."
His gaze remained steady, though something vulnerable flickered beneath it.
"I fell for her gentleness… the way she speaks truth without fear… the way she values freedom, not just for herself, but for others."
Rowan, standing slightly behind, watched quietly. Anastasia, hidden in the corner, felt her heartbeat echo in her ears.
"She is not someone shaped by the court," Adrien continued. "She is someone who challenges it… without even trying."
A faint, almost helpless smile appeared on his lips.
"And somewhere along the way… she became everything to me." The words settled, warm and unguarded. "My feelings are real," he said, more firmly now. "And I could not stand here, before all of you, and pretend otherwise."
Then he fell silent. He did not look away.
He could not. A prince does not lower his gaze to escape judgment. So he waited.
Apologetic. Still. Exposed. Rowan's jaw tightened slightly. Anastasia's fingers curled into her dress. What would they say? Then—
A sound broke the silence. A soft, barely contained squeal.
"…This is exactly like a romance novel!"
All heads turned. One of the candidates clasped her hands together, eyes shining. "No, truly! This feels like The Duke Who Defied the Crown!"
Another gasped. "Or Love Beyond the Throne! Oh my—this is even better!"
A third leaned forward eagerly. "Wait, wait… how did it start? Who fell first? Was there a dramatic confession?"
"And the first kiss!" another added, eyes sparkling. "Was it under the moonlight or somewhere forbidden?"
Adrien blinked. Rowan blinked. From the corner, Anastasia nearly forgot how to breathe. This… was not the reaction any of them had prepared for. The hall, once tense, now buzzed with curiosity and excitement, as if they had all collectively stepped into a story rather than out of one.
Then, a calmer voice cut through the noise. One of the candidates stepped forward, her expression composed.
"What His Highness has done," she said, "is both disrespectful… and responsible."
The others quieted. "It is disrespectful," she continued evenly, "because we were invited here with hope. Expectations were built. Families were involved."
Adrien's expression tightened slightly.
"But," she added, "it is responsible… because you chose truth over convenience." She met his eyes directly.
"You could have continued this trial. Chosen one of us. Lived a life of duty."
A small pause. "But that would have been a loveless marriage." Her voice softened just slightly.
"And that would have been far crueler."
Another candidate nodded.
"And you protected her identity," she added. "That alone shows respect."
One by one, the others began to agree.
"It hurts, yes," one admitted.
"But it would have hurt more later," another said.
"At least now we can choose our own paths," a third smiled faintly.
The tension melted into something unexpectedly gentle. Understanding. Relief. Even admiration. Adrien felt something tighten in his chest. Not pain.
Emotion. Rowan exhaled quietly, a small smile forming. From the corner, Anastasia's eyes shimmered. None of them had expected this. And yet… somehow, it felt right.
The hall, once heavy with uncertainty, slowly softened into something calmer.
Adrien stepped forward again, his voice carrying both gratitude and sincerity.
"I will personally escort each of you," he said. "And I will explain everything to your families with the utmost respect your presence here deserves."
There was no hesitation in his tone.
No royal distance. Just honesty. The candidates exchanged small glances. A few smiles appeared, faint but genuine.
"Yes, it is a little sad," one admitted quietly. "We all came here with a dream."
Another let out a soft breath. "But… I think I prefer this ending over a false beginning."
A third laughed lightly. "At least now I can say I witnessed a real love story instead of becoming part of a political one."
The earlier disappointment lingered, but it no longer felt bitter. Instead, it felt… resolved.
"We were trusted,by our beloved prince to reveal this truth to us." the mature candidate said. "That matters."
"And respected," another added.
Their eyes returned to Adrien, not with longing now, but with something warmer. Admiration.
"I think," one of them said playfully, "we like this version of our prince more."
A few soft laughs followed. Even Adrien smiled, relief finally reaching his eyes.
Rowan crossed his arms with quiet satisfaction. And from the corner, Anastasia felt something loosen inside her chest. This… this was not the cruel ending she had feared. It was something kinder. Something real.
The next day unfolded under a quieter sky. In a sunlit corner of the palace gardens, Anastasia stood with Cinderella, Drizella, and Roselin, waiting. Her thoughts drifted as she watched the gentle sway of leaves.
"It's strange," she murmured.
Cinderella looked at her. "What is?"
Anastasia tilted her head slightly.
"In stories, noble ladies are always shown as rivals. Proud. Cruel. Fighting for power or love like it's a game."
Drizella huffed softly. "Dramatic and exhausting."
"But they weren't like that at all," Anastasia continued. "None of them were villains."
Roselin nodded. "Just girls with expectations placed on them."
Cinderella smiled faintly. "Misunderstood… like many others."
Anastasia exhaled, a small smile forming.
"Perhaps stories are too eager to assign roles," she said. "Hero. Villain. As if people are that simple."
Drizella smirked. "If that were true, what do you think we would be?"
Anastasia rolled her eyes lightly. "Whatever we wanted to be."
Before the moment could stretch further, footsteps approached. They turned. Mr. Harwin stood there, dressed neatly despite his modest means, his posture carrying both respect and quiet determination. He bowed slightly.
"Good morning, Miss Ella."
Then he looked at the others. Cinderella stepped forward.
"This is Anastasia, Drizella, my sisters and Roselin our partner," she introduced warmly. Each of them greeted him in turn.
"It is an honor," Mr. Harwin said sincerely. "I have heard much about you."
Drizella raised a brow playfully. "Hopefully good things."
He smiled faintly. "Very good things."
Anastasia stepped forward then, her expression shifting into focus. "Shall we begin?" she said.
There was no hesitation now. No uncertainty. Only purpose. As they gathered around the documents, the air changed. This was no longer about the past. This was the first step toward rebuilding something of their own.
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