A royal Heart

chapter 18: a year apart

The seasons in Perinn shifted like the tides, each one bringing subtle changes to the town's rhythm. Spring brought the scent of blooming jasmine, summer the hum of tourists along the beach, autumn the rustle of falling leaves, and winter the quiet hush of snow blanketing the rooftops. Yet for Julie, the changes outside only deepened the contrast with the unchanging weight she carried within.

A year had passed since she had left the palace, a year of painstakingly rebuilding her life. Her father, Frank, had grown stronger, his once-constant pallor replaced with a healthier glow. His recovery was a relief, a victory she clung to, yet it came at the cost of something else—something Julie found harder to define.

Her days were filled with hard work, as always. The café in the town square kept her busy, serving tourists and locals alike. The clinking of cups and the hum of conversations provided a steady backdrop to her thoughts. She had picked up a few extra shifts, determined to save money now that her father was stable. Still, no matter how busy she kept herself, her mind drifted back to her time at the palace.

It was in the quiet moments, walking home beneath the streetlights or folding laundry in the dim light of her small apartment, that the memories of Xavier crept in. She thought of his warm smile, the way he had listened to her as though her words mattered, and the kindness that radiated from him even in his most troubled moments. She missed him—not just as a prince or a benefactor, but as the friend who had seen her, truly seen her, in a way no one else ever had.

One evening, after a particularly busy day, Julie returned home to find her father reading by the fire. The small apartment felt cozier than it had in years, the warmth of the hearth and the faint scent of dinner creating an atmosphere of peace.

"Julie, you're back," Frank said, setting his book aside. "You look tired. Everything alright?"

Julie smiled faintly as she hung up her coat. "Just a long day, Dad. The café was packed."

Frank studied her for a moment, his keen eyes narrowing slightly. "You've been quieter than usual lately. What's on your mind?"

Julie hesitated, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her apron. "Nothing, really. Just the usual stuff. Bills, work..."

Frank raised an eyebrow. "You're not fooling me, kiddo. I've known you long enough to tell when something's eating at you. It's him, isn't it? Xavier?"

The sound of his name made Julie flinch slightly, and she turned away, pretending to busy herself with straightening the already-tidy bookshelf. "I don't know what you mean."

"Julie." Her father's voice was gentle but firm. "You haven't been yourself since you came back. You're doing everything right—working hard, keeping us afloat—but I can see it. There's something missing. Or maybe someone."

Julie sighed and sank into the chair across from him, resting her chin in her hands. "It's just... complicated, Dad. I don't even know if I was anything to him. I was just some girl working in the palace, trying to keep you alive. He probably moved on the second I walked out the door."

Frank shook his head. "You're selling yourself short. That young man, from what you've told me, didn't see you as just some girl. And if he didn't fight harder to keep you, maybe he was as scared as you were."

Julie looked at her father, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. "What if it was all in my head? What if I go back, and he doesn't even remember me?"

Her father leaned forward, resting his hand over hers. "Life's full of risks, Julie. But the greatest risk of all is letting fear stop you from finding out. If you still care about him, if you can't stop thinking about him, maybe it's worth seeing where that road leads. Even if it's scary."

The words stayed with her long after Frank had gone to bed. As she sat by the window, watching the snow fall softly outside, Julie couldn't help but replay her time at the palace in her mind. She thought of the stolen moments, the shared laughter, the way Xavier had looked at her like she was more than her circumstances.

Days turned into weeks, and still, she couldn't shake the sense of unfinished business. Her thoughts were interrupted one afternoon when she found an old envelope tucked into a drawer while cleaning. Inside was a note, written in Xavier's familiar handwriting:

"For every moment you've brightened my days, thank you. You have no idea how much your presence means to me. –Xavier"

Her breath caught in her throat as she read the words, her fingers tracing the faint indentations of his pen strokes. The note was a reminder of what they had shared, however fleeting, and it reignited the longing she had tried so hard to suppress.

But the question remained: had she been just a passing distraction for him, or had he felt the same pull she did?

That evening, Julie stood by her window once again, staring out at the lights of Perinn below. She clutched the note in her hand, her heart pounding. For the first time in months, she felt a flicker of hope—hope that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for them.

With trembling hands, she sat down at her small desk and began drafting a letter. Each word was carefully chosen, her heart poured into every sentence.

"Dear Xavier," she wrote, pausing as the weight of her emotions overwhelmed her.

The letter became a confession—not just of her feelings, but of her fears, her regrets, and her longing to know if the connection they had shared was real.

When she sealed the envelope, she felt a strange mix of fear and relief. She didn't know if he would respond or even read it, but for the first time in a long while, she felt as though she was taking a step toward something.

Julie looked out at the night sky, the stars twinkling like tiny beacons of possibility. She didn't know what the future held, but she knew she couldn't let the past slip away without trying to reclaim it.