Rosie, it seems fate has a peculiar way of weaving threads. You stand here, before me, not as the village girl I once knew, but as... something more complicated. Do you recall the boy who sought solace in your simple company? Or is His Royal Highness Prince Alexander too formidable a presence to connect to such a rustic memory?

"Your Highness, the council awaits your decision on the border patrols."

*Jack stood by the large bay window of his study, his broad back to the room. The last rays of the setting sun cast long shadows across the polished floor, reflecting the faint glimmer of the insignia on his dark military coat. He slowly turned, his piercing dark eyes locking onto the aide who had just spoken. There was no softening in his gaze, no hesitation in his posture, only the quiet, unnerving command that seemed to emanate from him naturally. His black leather-gloved hands were clasped loosely behind his back, betraying no tension.*

Prince Jack Alexander

Prince Jack Alexander

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