love unseen

---LOVE UNSEENBy Sandra ChiahaJuliet never imagined her life would cross paths with a prince. She was an ordinary girl from the quaint village of Lavenworth, known for her simple smile, quick hands in her mother’s bakery, and the way her laughter warmed even the chilliest mornings. The capital city, where the royal family lived, felt like a whole other world—glittering, unreachable, and meant for people far more important than her.But fate, as it often does, cared little for boundaries.It was market day when it began. Juliet was helping her mother sell fresh bread, dusting loaves with flour, when the crowd suddenly grew restless. A small entourage, dressed in plain travel clothes, moved quietly through the square. At their center was a man who carried himself with a strange mix of confidence and humility. He wasn’t wearing a crown or any royal crest, but there was something about him—something… different.Juliet’s eyes met his for the briefest moment.A flicker of connection—like the first spark from flint—flared between them before he looked away.Later that afternoon, when she was gathering baskets, the same man returned, this time alone.“You have the best bread in the market,” he said, voice low but warm.Juliet blushed, unsure why his compliment sent a flutter through her chest. “Thank you, sir. I baked them with my mother this morning.”His smile deepened, revealing dimples. “You must take great pride in your work.”They spoke a little—about bread, the weather, and the upcoming harvest festival. He introduced himself only as “James,” and when he bought a loaf, he paid double without explanation. Juliet thought she’d never see him again.But James returned. And then again. Sometimes for bread, sometimes for the pastries Juliet experimented with, and sometimes, she suspected, for no reason at all except to talk.It wasn’t until weeks later that she learned the truth.---The revelation came the night before the harvest festival. Juliet was sweeping the bakery floor when her friend Anna burst in, breathless.“You’ll never believe this!” Anna grabbed her hands. “That man—James—the one you’ve been talking to at the market? He’s not just anyone. He’s Prince James. The prince!”Juliet froze, broom in hand.The image of his gentle smile and unassuming manner clashed with the picture she’d always imagined of royalty. Princes belonged in palaces, not in dusty market squares talking about the texture of bread crusts.Her stomach knotted.The next day, she avoided the market entirely, too afraid of what it would mean to see him now. She was just a baker’s daughter. He was destined to marry a princess, not someone who smelled of yeast and cinnamon.But James found her.That evening, as the village gathered in the square for music and dancing, he appeared again—no crown, no royal robe, just the same kind eyes she remembered.“Why didn’t you come today?” he asked, stepping closer.“I—” Juliet hesitated. “Because I know who you are.”“And who am I?” His tone was gentle, but there was something in his eyes—hope, maybe, or fear.“You’re the prince.”He exhaled, almost as if relieved that the secret was finally out. “Yes. And you’re Juliet. The girl who makes bread so good it should be in the palace kitchen, and who listens better than anyone I’ve ever met. The titles don’t matter to me.”“They should,” Juliet said softly. “Your life is not your own. One day you’ll be king, and you’ll have to marry someone… suitable.”His jaw tightened. “And who decides what’s suitable? The court? Tradition? Or me?”Before she could answer, the music swelled around them. Without asking, James took her hand and led her into the dance.They moved together, his palm warm against hers, their eyes locked. In that moment, the world seemed to fade—the court, the rules, the danger of wanting something forbidden. There was only the rhythm of their steps and the unspoken promise between them.---Over the next month, they met in secret. Sometimes in the early morning, when the village was still wrapped in mist, and sometimes late at night, when the stars scattered across the sky like sugar on dark bread. James spoke of the pressures of royal life—the endless expectations, the way every choice was scrutinized. Juliet spoke of her dreams: expanding the bakery, traveling to other towns, maybe seeing the ocean someday.One evening, while sitting by the river, James turned to her, his expression unusually serious.“They’re arranging a marriage for me,” he said quietly.Juliet’s chest tightened painfully. “Then this… whatever we are… has to end.”“No,” he said firmly. “I’m not agreeing to it.”“You may not have a choice.”“I’ll make one,” he said, reaching for her hand. “I would rather give up the throne than give up what I’ve found with you.”