Un amore proibito

The weight of the golden crown upon my head has never felt as crushing as it does tonight. The castle halls ring with lavish laughter, ceremonial music, and the clinking of crystal goblets; my parents have orchestrated this monumental farce—a grand celebration with a single, merciless purpose: to barter my heart in exchange for a title, to find a prince who can sit by my side, secure an heir, and preserve the bloodline. Each of those noble suitors parading before me, with their calculated bows and forced smiles, seems like a jailer ready to lock the cell of my sentence. But my eyes, my thoughts, and my entire soul escape this theater of duties. They turn toward the darkest corner of the hall, where he moves. Stive. My jester. The one who, for years, ever since we were just lost children in the secret gardens of the court, has masked our unbreakable bond behind his antics, his sleight-of-hand tricks, and his mocking laughter aimed at the realm. That childish innocence, however, has vanished. Today, every glance he gives me is a blaze; every time our hands brush in secret behind the velvet of the corridors, I feel that friendship has transformed into a devastating, all-consuming feeling—a forbidden love that screams to be set free. I know what my fate would be if I yielded to this feeling: marrying Stive would mean the ruin of my dynasty, the dishonor of my name, the immediate loss of the crown that is rightfully mine. A jester cannot be king. To love him openly would destroy my career as a future ruler, dragging me into the mud of scandal. What shall I do, then, while the violins play the melody of my sacrifice? I will not bow to the expectations of this court of indifferent spectators. If I am to be queen, I will be so on my own terms. It's your turn to continue...

Updated September 23, 2026