Nina was born in Palasyo Pacita, home of the royals at the northernmost tip of Cincamarre. She grew up with endless stretches of hills meeting the sea, giggling and raising her arms like she was riding a rollercoaster whenever she and her father drove through them. The hilly path was the same one that the funeral procession took, from the San Juan Cathedral, down to the funeral pyre by the sea.

Monarchs' bodies were traditionally buried at the Cathedral, but the king had insisted on a funeral pyre by the beach instead, a public ceremony that every citizen of Cincamarre attended. Nina stood with the only family she had left—her controlling aunt and her devil-may-care uncle—and felt utterly, absolutely alone.

"I'm not giving the eulogy." She announced to her aunt as the flames licked the wood, and Nina's vision was blurred by tears among the sea of mourners. "I want to go back to the Palace."

"Nina, don't be difficult," Cordelia Mercado spat, not sparing her niece a glance from underneath the thick lace veil the women in the immediate family were made to wear. Tita Delia was dressed like a mobster's wife, complete with elbow length silk gloves, which had to be uncomfortable in the heat. "People are expecting you to give the eulogy, and greet them at the condolence line. The Prince of Concordia is here to give you a present as well."

"Tita," Nina hissed. "I don't give a shit about what people expect me to do. My father just died, and I am suffocating. So whether you like it or not, I am going back to Pacita and staying there until the burial ceremony is over."

The regent made no move under her veil, but the seaside breeze lifted to reveal her twitching lip. Beside her, Ernie was doing a very bad job of hiding his amusement.

"Fine." She snapped, shaking her head. "We still need to have a conversation about that attitude of yours, young lady. Not to mention the string of scandals in your wake."

"The Seoul Incident is by far my favorite." Tito Ernie piped up. "But the affair with the TV star in LA, and sinking that yacht off of Hong Kong harbour was pretty fun too."

"Shut up, Ernie," Delia snarled.

"Look at that, I made her say 'shut up.'" He chortled.

"Looking forward to it, my Lady." Nina addressed her aunt by her proper title before she turned from the funeral pyre to the nearest car she could find, a sleek black town car that was parked next to her aunt's. She assumed it was one of the security team's and opened the door. Luckily, the keys were still inside.

Nina grinned and started the engine, pulling away from the parking spot before anyone realized that the car was missing. Once the path was clear, and her seatbelt was on, she pumped her foot on the gas and shifted gears. She loved driving, and as she sped and coursed through the roads, it felt like the perfect release. She heaved a long breath as the fires of the funeral pyre grew smaller and smaller behind her.

If she didn't feel completely numb to everything around her, she would have noticed that she actually had a passenger riding in her backseat. That was, until her passenger decided to speak.

"Wow. So you really don't know whose car this is, do you?" A voice deadpanned from the back, making her jump as the car jerked dangerously.

She gave him a cursory glance before she shifted her gaze to the road. She couldn't tell who it was but luckily for her, he had decided to slink in through the space between the seats to sit on the passenger's seat. It was a dangerous move and Nina grumbled, making sure to keep the drive steady as he finally sat next to her. He slipped on his seatbelt too.

"Excuse me," she told him while keeping her eyes on the road. "That is no way to greet the Crown Princess."

"And hijacking a visiting dignitary's car isn't exactly diplomatic either."

It took her a second, but her brain finally caught up with her quick mouth, and she managed to steal enough quick glances at him to realize who he was.

"Felipe," she breathed, an undertone of annoyance in her voice.

He was sitting beside her, completely relaxed in a crisp, formal suit that looked like it was made just for him. His kind face was brimming with amusement, his thin lips curled into a smile that revealed just the hint of dimples on his cheeks. A thin layer of stubble adorned his chin, his thick black brows slowly furrowing in worry. His hair was perfect—sleek and parted to the side, which was obviously done with much care.

How many times had Nina seen this face on a much smaller boy? A boy who knew her better than she knew herself, one that she hadn't thought about in so long.

"Saturnina," he said slowly, his voice fumbling over the letters. "It's been a while."

Eight years, more or less, Nina's brain supplied for her as she tried to wrap her head around seeing him there, right now in a car on the way to the palace.

As the prince and princess of neighboring nations, born in the same year, the Royal Houses of Mercado and Macasaet thought it would be cute if their equally royal children grew up together. No promise of engagement, no particular political reason except that the children looked so darn cute together.

So, Nina spent half her summers in Concordia, and half of Felipe's summers were spent in Cincamarre. Nina never exactly enjoyed those summers, especially when they started happening the year her mother left.

Seeing Felipe reminded her of everything she hated about her childhood, being forced to spend time with a boy who was more interested in taking care of his plants than talking to her. The boy she always had to wheedle and beg to go on adventures with when they were at either palace. Felipe had been nice enough, she supposed, but nice wasn't what she'd needed at the time.

"Right," she said. "What are you doing here?"

"This is my car."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"This is my country." She fired back at him.

Not surprisingly, Felipe leaned back in his seat and sighed in exasperation. Nina heard that sigh from everyone she ever met, and knew that the sigh was almost always followed with annoyance and anger, which only fueled hers. It was an endless cycle, and she'd learned to roll with those punches and shout back if she needed to.

The car pulled to a stop at the top of the hill, and the two royals arrived at Palasyo Pacita. Nina felt her breath catch with the wind that blew across the courtyard, the grass tickling at their legs. The Palace, known as the jewel of Cincamarre, was built on top of a hill facing the sea. This was where Nina was born, and she was sure this was where she would die. She knew every corner of that house like the back of her hand, from the strong narra doors carved by her ancestors that opened up to the grand hall, to the courtyard in the middle of the hacienda that she used to play in as a little girl.

The entire palace had only two floors, and with its open box configuration, made the entire Palace cool and breezy. The smaller size of the palace gave Nina more room to run and play in as a child, with nannies able to watch her from a distance, until she broke something, or hurt herself. Every opening facing the courtyard had an arch with a former king's name carved overhead, and every window that faced away from the courtyard had a fantastic view of the sea. Every room had a purpose, every stone was seeped in her country's history. But there was only ever one part of the palace that truly felt like home to Nina.

"I'm going to the lanzones orchard." Felipe announced, his hands in his pockets and walking off in the direction of the said orchard like it was his own. Nina huffed and managed to catch up to him before he walked into the palace without her.

"No, we're going to the orchard." She promptly informed him, up marching next to him as they walked to the side of the palace, following the edges and corners of the brick and stone until they reached the gardens at the back.