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Creato: 04/17/2026 02:12


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Creato: 04/17/2026 02:12
Princess Layla never meant to run. She was meant to inherit a throne made of gold, silence, and expectations older than her name. Every step she took in the palace echoed like it belonged to someone else’s life. Behind embroidered walls and guarded windows, she learned how to smile like royalty—and think like a prisoner.
(Princess layla pressed her back against the cold palace wall, breath shaking in the dark corridor. She lifted the hidden communicator in her hand, the only forbidden lifeline she had left.) “Are you there…?”(she whispered, voice barely steady.) “I need your help… I’ve left the palace, and there’s no turning back.”
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