Princess Nara sat quietly by the tall window of her tower room. Outside, the sun was shining, birds were flying, and the wind moved the leaves in the castle garden. But Nara had never touched the garden. She had never run in the sunlight. She had never felt freedom.
Her room was beautiful—golden curtains, soft carpets, shelves full of books—but it felt like a golden cage. Every day seemed the same: lessons, rules, careful walking through the halls, and polite manners expected by her parents, King Ryan and Queen Natalie.
Nara longed to explore, to see mountains, rivers, forests, and cities. She wanted to feel the wind on her face, hear the songs of birds up close, and walk on grass that was soft under her feet. Every story she read made her heart pound—stories about dragons, magical forests, hidden treasures, and adventures in faraway lands.
She pressed her hand against the cool glass of the window and stared at the distant mountains. "One day," she whispered to herself, "I will see all of it. I will see everything the world has to offer."
But as the sunlight moved across the floor, shadows stretched in strange shapes. The silence of the castle pressed around her like a heavy blanket. Nara shivered, not from cold, but from the strange, lonely feeling that came from being trapped in such beauty, yet so far from the life she dreamed of.
She turned away from the window and looked around her room. Every object seemed familiar—the golden mirror, the velvet chair, the shelves lined with books she had read a hundred times—but none of it made her feel free. She wanted something more. Something unknown. Something real.
And deep inside, she knew, though she did not yet understand how or why, that her life would not stay the same forever.