Maya stood before the tall mirror framed in polished wood, her fingers deftly weaving strands of her chestnut hair into a loose braid. A subtle smile played on her lips as a soft melody escaped her, her humming blending with the distant songs of birds perched among the blooming branches outside. The sun, high and warm, filtered through the open window, casting golden light across the room—a perfect morning for her favorite pastime: gathering herbs in the forest.

She carefully pinned the braid at the nape of her neck and allowed a few gentle tendrils to fall free, framing her youthful face with a casual grace. With a practiced hand, she tied a simple bow of deep green ribbon, the color reminding her of the leaves she would soon seek. A contented sigh left her lips as she gazed at her reflection, satisfied with the modest yet neat appearance.

A soft knock interrupted the quiet, and the door creaked ajar. Naomi, the middle-aged woman who had been Maya’s steadfast guardian, peered inside. Her warm eyes instantly found Maya’s, and a bright, affectionate smile lit her face.

"Preparing for your morning walk, my princess?" Naomi’s voice held a teasing lilt as she stepped fully into the room. Maya turned toward her, the smile on her face deepening.

"I am," Maya replied cheerfully. "Though you should have called me—I could have used your help getting ready."

Naomi shook her head gently, her expression softening. "You’re no longer a child, and you manage quite well on your own. But dressing you should be a maid’s task, not yours." She stepped closer, holding out a small wrapped parcel.

"We don't have a maid here, Naomi," Maya said, lifting the woven basket she had prepared for gathering herbs. Her eyes twinkled as she caught sight of the package in Naomi’s hands, already guessing its contents.

"True, but that doesn’t mean it’s your burden," Naomi said lightly, though there was an underlying concern in her tone. "You have enough on your shoulders, and I don’t want you waking me before dawn just to fuss over your hair." She sighed but didn’t press further, clearly resigned.

Naomi extended the parcel toward Maya. "I baked some cookies for you. You should eat when hunger strikes out there."

Maya’s eyes brightened and she accepted the parcel eagerly, placing it carefully inside her basket. Without hesitation, she turned and wrapped her arms around Naomi in a grateful hug.

"Thank you, Nanny! You’re the best!" she said warmly.

Naomi’s body stiffened slightly, but she did not pull away. Instead, she patted Maya’s back, a gentle smile softening her features.

"No thanks needed. It’s my duty to care for you," Naomi replied quietly.

Maya rolled her eyes playfully, her lips pressing into a pout. "I’ll thank you anyway," she insisted.

Naomi chuckled, a sound like a soft breeze through autumn leaves. "Very well, if you insist."

"I won’t keep you," Maya said after a brief pause, stepping toward the door.

"Just don’t stay out too late," Naomi called after her, her voice carrying a note of motherly concern. Maya nodded in response, then hesitated as though recalling something important.

Turning back, she asked, "Nanny, have there been any news from the palace lately?"

Naomi paused thoughtfully before answering. "The second prince of Madonia is expected to visit soon."

Maya nodded, though a trace of sadness clouded her expression. "No invitations, no messages?"

Shaking her head, Naomi answered softly, "None, my princess."

The weight of the words hung between them, a quiet acknowledgment of Maya’s exclusion. But Maya quickly pushed away the lingering hurt and smiled. "Thank you, Naomi. I’ll be off now."

Naomi watched her go, then exhaled deeply. Her heart ached for the young princess isolated in a grand villa built for forgotten royalty. The palace seemed to have turned its back on the girl, born of the king’s secret affair with a maid and the subsequent wrath of the queen. Yet, Naomi’s devotion remained unwavering.

She shook her head gently to clear the troubling thoughts and returned to her duties. Her role was clear: to protect Maya, no matter the cost.

Stepping outside, Maya felt the crisp morning air fill her lungs. The wide expanse of the villa’s grounds stretched out before her, the scent of earth and wildflowers mingling in the breeze. She walked steadily toward the forest’s edge, well familiar with every path and tree, the natural world a comforting refuge from her complicated past.

It was no surprise to her that the royal family had not extended invitations or shown interest, but the habit of inquiring had taken root in her heart nonetheless. Since her mother’s passing nine years prior, Maya had lived here, in the shelter of the villa, with Naomi by her side. Her early years in the village were marked by innocence, unaware of the crown she was destined for. Only her mother’s failing health compelled her to seek out her father—the king of Madonia.

That encounter had been cold and distant. Though their shared resemblance was undeniable, the king treated her as an unwelcome secret, a shadow of his indiscretions. The queen’s fury was fierce, her screams echoing in Maya’s memory, demanding the girl’s death for daring to taint the royal lineage.

Ultimately, Maya was sent away, to this villa hidden from the world, with the promise of return upon her sixteenth birthday. Now, that day was nearing—just six months ahead—and the thought stirred a whirl of emotions she struggled to decipher. Fear, hope, uncertainty—all mingled in her chest.

Determined to reclaim her calm, Maya lost herself in the task at hand. She bent to gather herbs and delicate wildflowers, the familiar activity soothing her spirit. The sweet taste of the cookies Naomi had made lifted her mood, and a gentle smile returned to her face.

Today was promising; rare herbs flourished in abundance, their vibrant leaves and blossoms a treasure for any apothecary. Maya thought perhaps Naomi would agree to sell some on her behalf, a prospect she knew was unlikely but cherished nonetheless. More than commerce, the ritual connected her to her mother’s memory, a lasting bond through the land’s gifts.

Her basket soon brimmed with fragrant herbs, leaves dusted with morning dew. Her hands, streaked with soil and green, needed washing. The nearby river sparkled invitingly, its gentle murmur a balm to her senses.

Carrying her basket, Maya made her way to the water’s edge. The cool breeze whispered through the trees as sunlight danced upon the rippling surface. She knelt beside the river, dipping her hands into the clear flow, cleansing the day’s work with methodical care.

As she worked, her gaze flicked to the riverbank, catching an unexpected movement. A figure lay partially submerged, still and silent among the reeds. Her breath caught, and a shiver traced down her spine.

Approaching cautiously, Maya’s heart pounded as she realized the figure was a man, his clothing torn and stained, his body marred with wounds. Though unconscious, a strange beauty lingered in his features, marred yet compelling.

Panic surged within her. "Is he... dead?" The thought was unbearable. Without hesitation, she reached out, dragging him carefully from the water, laying him on the soft grass, his chest rising and falling faintly.

Cold and unresponsive, he seemed lost to the world. Maya pressed her fingers to his wrist, searching desperately for signs of life. A faint pulse throbbed beneath her touch—so fragile it might have been mistaken for nothing.

Relief and dread intertwined as she whispered, "You’re alive... just barely."

Gathering her courage, Maya knew this moment would change everything. The quiet morning had yielded a secret stranger, and with him, the first step toward a destiny entwined with shadows and truth.

Drawing a deep breath, she resolved to protect him, unaware of the storm their meeting would unleash.