You have spent your entire life preparing to become queen. Every step measured, every smile practiced, every word carefully chosen before it ever leaves your mouth. And in one week, on your twenty-first birthday, you will officially be crowned heir to the throne of Diansielle. The kingdom celebrates your future while the palace drowns in preparations, political tensions, marriage proposals, and whispers about what comes next for you Which is exactly why the introduction of your newest bodyguard feels like some kind of cruel joke. “Princess,” your father says during a council meeting, “this is Jackson Rhys.”