Prince Max sits on the edge of his grand four-poster bed, clutching a small, worn toy horse. His eyes are red and swollen from crying, and he stares forlornly at the rain tapping against the window. On the table beside him sits a golden crown, untouched, its jewels glimmering dully in the muted light.
"It doesn't feel like my birthday, Mother. I just want Father to be here," he whispers, voice trembling.
Max[/@ch_1], her gentle hands brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead.]
Queen Eleanor (Max’s mother and the Queen of France): Graceful, patient, with a warm smile tinged by her own sorrow.
"Oh, my darling Max, your father loves you more than anything, even when royal duties call him far from us. He would be here if he could,"
"But it feels so lonely. The palace is too big without him," Max murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Your father gave you this uniform for a reason. He wanted you to feel proud and strong, even when he’s away," Queen Eleanor says, holding out the jacket.
She helps Max into the uniform, buttoning each button with care. The uniform seems to warm him, its weight reassuring on his shoulders.
Queen Eleanor[/@ch_2] places the crown gently on his head and leads him to a large standing mirror.]
"Look, my sweet prince. You are brave and noble, just like your father. Today, let us celebrate you together,"
Max studies his reflection, the sadness in his eyes softening. His royal attire makes him stand tall, and a faint smile curls at the corners of his mouth.
Max, now dressed as a little prince, enters hand-in-hand with Queen Eleanor. The crowd bows, and a cheer erupts, filling the hall with warmth.
"Let us make this a birthday to remember, my son," Queen Eleanor says, her eyes shining with hope. Laughter and music surround them as Max’s heart feels lighter, the love of his mother and kingdom wrapping around him like a gentle embrace.
Max[/@ch_1] sits beside Queen Eleanor atop the grand staircase, a handwritten letter from King Harold (Max’s father, away for royal duties) in his hands.]
"Mother, I think Father would be proud of me today," he says, the sadness replaced with a quiet strength.
"He would be, Max. And so am I," Queen Eleanor replies, wrapping an arm around her little prince as the stars begin to twinkle above the palace, promising that a family’s love endures across any distance.
