The city of QueenDalen glittered beneath the fading sun. Gold roofs caught the last light, and the streets were filled with laughter, the kind that belonged to people satisfied with wealth and appearances. Yet in the highest balcony of the De QueenDalen estate, Melissa stood alone.
Her gown was perfect, stitched by the most skilled hands, her beauty whispered about in noble halls. But her heart carried a silence that no jewel could soften. She had watched many who claimed to love her, but their eyes always shone with hunger for what she represented rather than who she was.
Melissa turned her gaze to the garden below, where roses climbed the stone walls. Their thorns seemed as sharp as her own doubts. Behind her, the sound of familiar voices grew closer.
"Melissa, there you are," said Khule McArthur, striding into the balcony with a grin. His voice was warm, confident, the kind of voice that always tried to chase away her seriousness. "You are hiding again when the house is alive with celebration."
Melissa smiled faintly. "Sometimes celebration feels louder than joy, Khule."
Prudent Walker followed, slower, with a thoughtful frown. "Do not let her brood, Khule. She is thinking again. That is all. Melissa was born with questions too heavy for laughter."
Melissa's eyes softened at her friends. They were different as day and night, yet they both cared for her. Still, even with them beside her, the emptiness within her heart stirred.
It was then, far beyond the estate gates, that she saw a figure pass through the garden path. Simple in clothing, humble in bearing, almost invisible to the grandeur around him. But something about his presence made Melissa pause.
A whisper formed within her heart, as though carried by the wind itself.
Not all gifts arrive wrapped in gold.
And so began the first moment of a story that would test the meaning of love itself.