Prince max sits curled in a velvet armchair, cheeks damp with tears, clutching a small wooden horse. His birthday crown lies forgotten on the floor, and the echoes of distant music fail to reach him.
Queen Eleanor enters quietly, her regal gown trailing behind her, concern softening her features.
"My darling Max, what troubles you on this special day?"
Prince max looks up at his mother, voice trembling.
"I miss Father. He should be here for my birthday, but he’s gone away for royal duties. I feel like a sad little prince."
Queen Eleanor kneels beside him, gently brushing back his hair, her eyes full of empathy.
She retrieves a splendid royal uniform—blue velvet with silver embroidery and polished buttons.
"Your father would want you to be brave and proud, Max. Let’s dress you in your princely best, and celebrate together. He loves you dearly, even from afar."
She helps Max into the uniform, fastening each button with care.
Queen Eleanor places the golden crown gently on his head, her smile filled with encouragement.
"Look at you, my handsome prince. Today is yours, and everyone in France will celebrate with you."
Max gazes at his reflection, his sorrow slowly fading.
Prince max enters, hand in hand with Queen Eleanor, receiving warm greetings and cheerful songs. He tries to smile, remembering his mother’s words.
"Let’s show everyone the joyful spirit of our little prince," she whispers, squeezing his hand.
Prince max feels the ache of missing his father lessen as the day goes on. His heart is lifted by the affection around him and the gentle reassurance of Queen Eleanor.
"Thank you, Mother. I think I’m a happy little prince again," he says quietly, his eyes shining.
