The Chosen One: A Tale of Love, Deception, and Destiny

“Focus,” Prince Woo whispered to himself, his fingers tightening around the delicate shaft of the arrow. The evergreen trees stood tall around him, their boughs swaying gently in the mountain breeze. The forest was his sanctuary, a place far from courtly pressure and royal expectations. With a sharp exhale, he released the arrow.

It sliced through the air and struck the center of the golden target nailed to an old oak tree. A surge of satisfaction coursed through his veins as he allowed himself a smile. Archery had always brought him peace—it gave him a sense of control in a world where nearly everything else was decided for him.

But peace was fleeting. The moment of triumph passed, and he remembered the duties awaiting him at the castle. Slinging the quiver over his shoulder, he mounted his horse and turned toward home.

Nestled high in the misty mountains of Serilda stood the royal castle, its towers scraping the sky and its stone walls cloaked in thick ivy that twisted like secrets around the ancient bricks. The banners of the royal family fluttered in the wind, marked with a golden star on a field of deep crimson. Below the hill, the town of Philomena thrived—a shining beacon of wealth and grace. Elegant homes lined cobblestone streets, and vibrant market stalls overflowed with exotic fruits and perfumed silks.

But across the hill, hidden from polite society’s view, lay Milagros—a town forgotten by prosperity. Its cracked brick roads and dilapidated homes painted a stark contrast. Hunger reigned. Crime bloomed. Children went barefoot, and desperation was a constant companion. Prince Woo had heard whispers of Milagros, but he had never truly seen it. Like many of Serilda’s elite, he remained blind to the struggle unfolding just beyond the castle walls.

As Woo returned to the grand gates, he handed off his steed and made for his chambers. His solitude didn’t last long. A knock interrupted the quiet, and when he opened the door, he was met by Knight Rowan, his father’s chief advisor—a man with a reputation for fearsome efficiency.

“The King requires your presence,” Rowan stated, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Woo followed him through the palace corridors to the King’s chamber. His father, regal and formidable, greeted him with a surprising warmth. That alone set off alarm bells in Woo’s mind.

“My son,” the King boomed, “you know your duty to this kingdom. It’s time you chose a queen.”

Woo had anticipated this conversation. “Yes, Father.”

“You will meet ten young noblewomen. Spend time with each, eliminate those unworthy, and make your decision in three months’ time. The process begins next week.”

Woo nodded solemnly. There was no use arguing—his fate was sealed. But silently, he hoped that amid the spectacle, he might find true love.

The castle buzzed with preparations. Maids scrubbed every crevice, chambermaids laid fresh linens, and flags were raised with renewed pride. The royal halls, once dim and dusty, gleamed with anticipation.

Finally, the trumpet sounded.

Woo stood at the gilded gates, adjusting the small crown upon his head. Each carriage that arrived brought another contender. He greeted each lady with practiced politeness, asking names he already knew, accepting compliments he didn’t believe. All of them seemed the same—poised, painted, and painfully predictable.

Then came carriage number eight.

A young woman in a modest dress stepped down awkwardly. Her foot caught on the hem of her gown, and she stumbled—right into Prince Woo. The other girls snickered, but Woo’s arms shot out, catching her before she fell completely.

She looked up at him with wide blue eyes and muttered, “Sorry, my prince.”

The moment stilled. Her face was familiar—Lady Solo, if he remembered correctly. Unlike the others, she wore little makeup, and her simplicity stood out like a lantern in the dark. There was something… genuine about her.

As she walked away, he repeated her name in his mind. Lady Solo.

The dinner that night was grand. Woo did his best to engage each girl in conversation. Most answered with rehearsed grace, offering flattering words or feigned interest. But his mind lingered on Lady Solo.

Before the evening ended, Woo intercepted her at the ballroom doors. “Care to take a walk?” he asked.

She hesitated, then nodded. “Sure.”

As they strolled the moonlit courtyard, Woo apologized for the earlier incident.

“There’s no need,” she replied softly. “I should’ve watched my step.”

They spoke for a while longer, cautiously at first, then with growing ease. She mentioned growing up in Philomena, her family’s vineyard, her love of archery.

Woo’s interest sparked. “Archery? You too?”

She nodded, her smile reserved but warm.

But the truth was far from what she said.

Lady Solo was a lie. Her real name was Catarina Sol—from Milagros. The daughter of poor merchants, sister to five siblings, and survivor of the streets. She’d never been to school—she’d taught herself to read. Archery wasn’t a hobby, it was survival. Her older brother, a soldier who’d died in the King’s last war, had trained her to protect their family.

When word spread of the queen’s selection, her family had crafted a plan. If Catarina became queen, she could bring justice to Milagros. She could stop the cycle of suffering.

And now, walking beside the prince, she dared to hope.

Weeks passed.

Girls were dismissed. Banners fell. Woo made choices—some his, some his father’s. But Catarina, the false Lady Solo, remained. Woo was falling in love.

They rode horses through forests, shared stories, and slowly peeled away each other’s layers. She became a favorite, not just to the Prince, but to the King as well.

Then came the letter.

Her youngest sibling had died—starved to death.

Grief threatened to consume her. Desperate, she planned a theft from the castle’s underground coin vault. Fifty coins—that was all. Enough to save her family.

But fate intervened.

As she exited the vault, she collided with Woo.

His expression shifted from shock to disbelief.

“Lady Solo… What brings you here?”

Catarina froze. Then she broke down, sobbing. Unable to lie anymore, she told him everything. Her real name. Her past. Her family’s pain. The theft.

She expected fury. Banished hopes. But Woo only sat beside her in silence, then gently rubbed her back.

Finally, he spoke. “You lied to me. But for the right reasons. You tried to save your family… I would’ve done the same.”

He gave her two hundred coins and promised not only to protect her secret—but to help her change the kingdom.

“You’ll still be my queen,” he said. “Together, we’ll fix this broken world. No more secrets.”

Moral of the Story:

True love looks beyond appearances, and real nobility is found not in birthright, but in sacrifice, courage, and compassion.