Seraphina tried to rise. Finn tried too. They tripped, fell again, and landed in a heap.
And then—she laughed. Not polite court laughter. Not forced. Real, bright, unrestrained, wild. It spilled out of her like freedom itself, shaking the dust from the morning air.
Finn Callan stared, stunned. Poor farmer, orphan of the crown's wars, enemy of Elvaria's royals…fell in love in that ridiculous cabbage cart. He thought he'd seen beauty before, but this? This laugh was rebellion, sunlight, and danger all at once. The girl gasped as Finn caught her before she hit the ground. For a heartbeat, everything went still. Her hood fell back. Sunlight spilled across her hair—molten red, wild, untamed. Her green eyes locked on his, and Finn forgot how to breathe.
"You're… heavy," he blurted.
She scowled. "You ran into me!"
"I was chasing a goat."
"Oh. Well, that explains everything."
"Are you hurt?" His voice came out rougher than he meant.
She looked at him like he was the first solid thing she'd ever seen. "I—I don't know. Are you?"
He chuckled, brushing cabbage leaves from his hair. "I might ask you the same."
The crowd in the square clapped and jeered—market entertainment at its best.
Someone shouted, "Buy her the goat, lad!"
Another, "Careful, she'll break you in half!"
She sat up with royal poise, brushed imaginary dust from her cloak, then glanced behind her.
"Are they gone?" she whispered.
"Who?" Finn asked.
At that moment, a trio of palace guards thundered past, swords drawn, shouting, "She went this way!"
Seraphina's cheeks flushed. She yanked her hood up and pulled Finn to his feet.
"We need to go."
"Go where?" Finn asked, grinning despite himself.
"Anywhere but here."
Before he could reply, a sharp horn split the air—a palace horn.
The market stilled.
The girl yanked Finn by the collar and dragged him behind a cabbage cart.
"Don't move. Don't breathe. Don't be a hero."
"What are you—" he started, but one look from her silenced him.
When the guards passed, she peeked over the cart, then grinned—mischief sparking in her eyes.
"Close one. Thanks, goat boy. You're a surprisingly soft landing."
"I have questions," Finn said.
"Most people do." She winked. "Name?"
"Finn. And you are…?"
"El… Elly." She hesitated, then smiled. "Runaway dressmaker."
Before Finn could ask more, Thalia's voice cut through the noise:
"Guards. Move!"
Seraphina froze.
Finn's grin vanished. His hand tightened on her arm, instinctive.
He didn't know her story, but he wasn't stupid. Whoever this girl was, she was in trouble.
They darted into an alley, Myrtle trotting behind with stolen grapes dangling from her mouth.
He squinted. "You don't look like a dressmaker."
She raised an eyebrow. "You don't look like a goat wrangler, but here we are."
Fair point. Finn glanced at her again. Her cloak couldn't hide the fine embroidery on the hem—work fit for royalty.
And the way she stood… not normal. This girl had spark. And secrets.
"Are you in trouble?" he asked.
"That depends. Do you mean legal trouble, royal trouble, or the kind of trouble where your life turns into a badly written play?"
"All three?"
"Then yes. Absolutely."
Suddenly, Thalia came running—panting, wild.
"My Princess, you can't keep running off like that! I had to hide from three guards while you were off inspecting sewage tunnels! Wonderful. The princess falls into a stranger's arms, and it's love at first sight. I told her this would happen."
Finn froze.
Seraphina froze.
Thalia gasped, slapped a hand over her mouth, and looked at Finn. "Oops."
"Your… princess?" Finn echoed.
Seraphina groaned and yanked her hood back up. "Forget you heard that."
But it was too late. Finn's heart was already racing.
A runaway princess.
A poor baker's son.
A valley full of secrets.
"You're a princess," Finn said quietly.
"Umm… yeah—she likes calling me that," Seraphina blurted. "And I call her my servant. It's just… a thing. I'm not really a princess."
Finn's brow rose. "Okayyyy…"
"What are you talking about? You are a princess!" Thalia blurted.
"Keep quiet," Seraphina hissed, whispering sharply into Thalia's ear.
"You just had to open your mouth, didn't you?" Seraphina said softly, lowering her hands from her face. Her green eyes flicked to Thalia, sharp but calm. "Not Elly. Princess Seraphina." She drew in a quiet breath, then straightened with quiet grace. "Well… the goat's out of the bag."
"Sorry," Thalia whispered, bowing her head.
"It's fine." Seraphina's voice softened, yet it held quiet command. She turned to Finn, meeting his gaze for a long, unreadable heartbeat.
"Yes. I am a princess — Princess Seraphina Elowen of Elvaria." Her chin lifted slightly, a hint of steel under the calm. "Now you know."
She stepped back, hood falling over her hair once more. "I should go. But perhaps… we'll meet again."
Her eyes lingered on him — a spark, a secret — before she turned away.
"And keep that goat out of trouble."
Then she was gone, cloak whispering behind her like fading royalty.
±±±±±
Far away in Elvaria's golden halls, Prince Kaelen's fist slammed into the banquet table. Goblets rattled. Courtiers fell silent.
"She ran?" His voice dripped venom.
"She disgraced you before the court," sneered one advisor.
Kaelen's smile was sharp, cruel. "Then let her run. Let her think she is free. When I catch her, obedience will not be requested. It will be carved."
Queen Elanora's fan snapped shut. "You will not touch her until the crown is secured. Alive, she is useful. Dead, she is a scandal. Send hunters. Quietly."
King Anthony leaned back on his throne, unreadable. But his eyes glinted—calculating. Always calculating.
±±±±±
Back at the palace, shadows whispered through gilded halls before reaching the Queen.
"She was seen," murmured a spy, bowing low. "In the valley… with a boy. A commoner."
Queen Elanora did not flinch. She set her teacup down with perfect grace, though her eyes turned to steel.
"With who?" she asked softly — the kind of softness that cut deeper than a shout.
"We don't know his name. But he is no noble. Just a valley tradesman."
The council chamber stilled. Ministers exchanged wary glances. Elanora rose. Her gown whispered across the marble floor like a drawn blade.
"Then the wedding will be moved forward," she said, her voice quiet but cold enough to freeze the room. "We cannot allow her heart to wander. Not when we need her loyalty. Not now. Not ever."
But it was already too late. Seraphina's heart had slipped beyond the palace walls — into the valley, into danger, into Finn. And love, they say, is the most dangerous rebellion of all.
±±±±±±
Later that day, Finn sat on a worn bench outside the valley bakery, still stunned.
He had caught a princess.
He had fallen in love — with her.
And she had hidden behind a cabbage cart and called him goat boy.
Meanwhile, in the palace, Princess Seraphina was enduring another storm.
Her mother scolded. Her father waved etiquette books like swords.
And once again, she was told she would marry Prince Kaelen — now sooner than planned.
Kaelen, cold and perfect as ever, only glanced at her and said, "You smell like goats."
Then he turned away.
Seraphina's hands curled into fists. She didn't want cold. She didn't want royal cages. She wanted something wild. Something real. She wanted the boy from the valley. And that, dear reader, was the first crack in Elvaria's golden crown.