White-Haired Abel

The morning sun streamed through the window, casting long shadows across the pristine floor of Prince Gareth's room. Stephanie, her hands moving deftly over the dresser, carefully dusted each delicate porcelain figurine, her mind wandering back to the day she first arrived at the palace.

She had been a mere girl then, wide-eyed and naive, her heart aflutter with a mix of excitement and trepidation. The towering walls of the palace had seemed like an impenetrable fortress, and the grandeur of the royal family had intimidated her. But amidst the opulence and splendor, it was the first Prince who had captured her attention.

His handsome face, framed by dark, tousled hair, had held her gaze, his piercing blue eyes seeming to see straight through her soul. She had been drawn to his loud intensity, the aura of seduction that surrounded him. But she knew her place, knew that she was just a maid, a servant in the grand scheme of things.

As she grew older, her admiration for Gareth transformed