The Crowned Heart | SKZ x Reader

1 | The Invitation

The early morning light filtered through the thin curtains, casting a soft glow across my room. I lay there for a moment, listening to the familiar sounds of the village waking up—horses' hooves clopping along the cobblestone streets, vendors setting up their stalls, and the steady hum of life in Valoria's outskirts. It was another ordinary day, or so I thought.

I pushed off the thin blanket and slipped out of bed, the cool wooden floor creaking beneath my feet. My family's bakery was just downstairs, and the warm, sweet scent of freshly baked bread had already begun to fill the air. The smell was comforting, grounding. This was my life: simple, predictable, and safe. I liked it that way.

As I pulled on my apron and tied my hair back, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was different today. Maybe it was the excitement of the spring festival happening in the village square, or maybe it was the fact that I'd spent the whole night dreaming of something more—an adventure beyond the village gates.

I made my way downstairs, where my mother was already working, her hands covered in flour as she shaped dough for the morning's first batch of bread. "Morning, Y/n," she greeted with a warm smile, her eyes crinkling at the edges. "Could you set out the loaves for the front counter?"

I nodded, grabbing the bread basket. As I arranged the loaves on display, the bell above the door jingled. I looked up, expecting to see one of our usual customers—a neighbor, maybe, or one of the farmers from the nearby fields. But instead, a figure stood silhouetted in the doorway, their frame backlit by the morning sun.

A royal messenger.

He was dressed in the king's colors—deep crimson and gold—and carried an air of authority that felt out of place in our quiet little bakery. His presence made everything around him seem smaller, less significant. My hands froze on the bread I was placing, my heart skipping a beat. Royal messengers didn't come to our village. Not for people like me.

"Y/n of Arlindale?" the man's voice was clear and direct, and when he spoke, it was as if the entire room stilled. My mother wiped her hands on her apron, her brow furrowed as she moved to stand beside me.

"I—yes, that's me," I stammered, unsure of what to make of this sudden intrusion.

The messenger reached into his coat and withdrew a scroll, sealed with the king's crest—a golden lion with wings. He held it out to me with a solemn expression. "By order of His Majesty, the King, you have been summoned to the royal palace."

My mouth went dry. The royal palace? Me?

I hesitated, my hands trembling slightly as I took the scroll from him. The weight of it felt unreal, like I was holding a piece of someone else's life, not mine. I fumbled with the seal, glancing at my mother, whose eyes had gone wide with disbelief.

As I broke the seal and unrolled the parchment, I read the words slowly, letting them sink in:

By decree of the King of Valoria, Y/n of Arlindale is invited to participate in the Royal Selection, a grand competition to determine the future queens of the kingdom.

The words seemed to blur in front of me as my mind raced to catch up with the reality of what I was reading. Queens? Princes? The Royal Selection was something I'd only ever heard about in passing—a distant, fantastical event meant for girls far more elegant and refined than me.

"Is this... is this real?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

The messenger nodded. "The king himself has selected you. You are to report to the palace in two days' time to begin the competition."

Two days. That wasn't enough time to process what was happening, let alone to prepare for something so grand. I was a baker's daughter from the outskirts, not a noblewoman fit for royal company. What could the king possibly see in me?

But there it was, in black ink on royal parchment: I had been chosen.

The rest of the morning passed in a blur, with my mother fussing over me and the neighbors dropping by to congratulate me as the news spread like wildfire through the village. The other girls in the village had always dreamed of such an invitation. I had never dared to. Yet now, I stood on the edge of something far bigger than I had ever imagined.

That night, as I lay in bed, staring up at the wooden beams of the ceiling, my thoughts spun with a thousand questions. What would the palace be like? What would the princes be like? And most of all—what was a girl like me supposed to do in a competition meant for queens?

I closed my eyes, trying to calm the anxious fluttering in my chest. Tomorrow, my life would change forever. I could feel it, like the first whisper of a storm on the horizon.

But for now, all I could do was wait for the dawn.