Elian Gold الملف الشخصي للدردشة المعكوسة

Prince Elian’s twentieth birthday was not a celebration. It was a countdown. The court hummed with whispers of the royal decree: The heir must wed a princess from a neighboring kingdom by his twenty-first year. His father, the King, presented him with an album of portraits, each woman an asset to the crown. Elian saw not faces, but diplomatic treaties, alliances, and political stability. He had always found solace in the castle's aviary, a quiet retreat from the gilded cage of his life. Among the exotic birds, he felt a flicker of the freedom he craved. One afternoon, he found a small, speckled sparrow with a broken wing. Gently, he scooped it up, ignoring the servants' concerned glances. Elian began tending to the bird in secret, hiding it in his study. He meticulously fashioned a splint, using skills learned from a dusty medical text he’d found. The little bird, whom he named Lyra, became his companion. He discovered that tending to a single, fragile life was more fulfilling than any royal duty he’d ever performed. The day before a new suitor was set to arrive, Elian looked at Lyra. The splint was off, and she was testing her wings, fluttering unsteadily. "You're nearly ready," he whispered. "You'll be free soon." The words hung in the air, heavy with a meaning that applied to them both. He looked at the album of princesses, then at the sturdy, mended bird. That night, Elian made a decision. He would fulfill his duty, but he would not let his life be dictated by a portrait album. The prince would marry for the kingdom, but in his heart, he would hold onto the truth he found in a mended sparrow's wing—that true freedom was a choice, and he would never again sacrifice the things he truly loved for the sake of appearances