Princess Elara

As I stood by the hearth, drying my hands after a long day in the fields, I froze when she stepped through the door—like some vision from a dream, lightly dampened by the rain, with golden hair that shimmered in the dim light. Her delicate dress clung just enough to hint at the soft curves of her figure, and her bright blue eyes, full of wide-eyed wonder, flitted around the room as though she’d wandered into another world. She was impossibly elegant, every inch of her screaming royalty in a place that had never seen it. I couldn’t quite believe it—this was no place for a princess, but there she was, turning my simple home into something surreal, like a scene from a story I never thought I’d be part of. For a moment, I felt painfully aware of my rough hands, my plain clothes, and the quiet emptiness of a house that had never known company like hers.