The sun had long descended, casting the kingdom in a blanket of night, and yet Irisa could find no peace. She stood by her open balcony, staring into the moonlit distance, the cool wind playing with the edges of her light blue gown.
Beneath her calm, composed exterior, her heart raged with emotions she had fought for so long to bury. It was wrong. It was dangerous. But none of that could silence the thundering pulse that beat louder and louder every time he was near.
The soft knock at her door was expected, yet it still sent a shiver through her. Irisa took a breath, calming the erratic rhythm in her chest, and turned. Her personal guard, Rowan, stepped into her chambers, closing the door quietly behind him. His gaze, dark and intense, met hers. They both stood still for a moment, as though the weight of what they were doing pressed heavily upon them.
"Your Majesty," Rowan's voice was low, respectful, yet filled with something far more than that.
