In the days that followed, Ciel buried herself in work. She spent countless hours restoring the damaged parts of the forest, ensuring that her people were taken care of. But despite her efforts, she found herself haunted by memories of Raphael.
One evening, as she sat alone in the castle library, she pulled out the golden crown from her pocket. She held it gently in her palm, examining it closely. It was still warm from her skin, a silent reminder of the touch that had sent shivers down her spine.
She sighed, closing her eyes as she recalled their encounters. There was no denying it; she had feelings for him, feelings she hadn't expected. Feelings she didn't know how to deal with.
A lone tear trickled down her cheek, staining the golden surface of the crown.