The royal gardens shimmered beneath the veil of moonlight, every petal and fountain enchanted by the soft glow of starlight. The ancient stone path wound its way between ivy-covered hedges and flowering trees, lanterns floating gently in the air like glowing wisps. Elowen stood beneath the weeping boughs of an ancient willow tree, its silver leaves shimmering faintly as if alive with starlight.
Her breath came slow and steady, the faint whisper of wind tugging at the delicate silk of her gown. She had tried not to think about this moment, but it lingeredâa constant presence at the edge of her thoughts. The ball had been beautiful, of course. Lavish silks, jeweled crowns, music that wove dreams in the air. She had danced with the court's finest lords and ladies, smiled through compliments and polite whispers.
But now she was here.
Alone.
The weight of the world felt heavier under the quiet canopy of stars. Her parents had seen this coming for yearsâthe arranged marriage to Prince Alaric of the Golden Vale, the union meant to cement alliances and secure peace between two warring territories. It had all seemed inevitable, a thing of politics and tradition. Duty, not choice. And yet, now that the reality loomed before her, she felt nothing but trepidation.
The sound of footsteps broke her musings.
"Lady Elowen."
Her heart leaped.
The voice was smooth, low, and rich with the warmth of something ancient. She turned quickly, her hand clutching her gown, and saw him.
Prince Alaric stood at the edge of the garden path, his silhouette clear against the golden glow of the distant lanterns. His dark hair was swept back, and his tunic glimmered faintly with threads of silver and sapphire. His expression was unreadable, but his presence was unmistakable: regal, commanding, yet somehow uncertain.
She struggled to find her voice. "Your Highness," she managed, forcing herself to steady her nerves.
He took a few slow steps toward her, his gaze fixed on her like a sword's edge. There was no mistaking the weight behind his words as he said, "You look as if you've been escaping the weight of expectations."
Elowen stared at him. Her heart beat harder, and she fought the instinct to take a step back. His voice was so soft, so certain, it felt like magic, though she wasn't sure if it was the kind that could be seen or the kind that stirred something deep within her.
"I've been... thinking," she admitted, her voice quiet, hesitant. She wasn't sure if she should trust him, but something about his presence felt calming. She glanced away, focusing on the willow's silver leaves as they swayed gently in the breeze. "Thinking of how much my life is about to change."
"Ah," he said, taking another step toward her. His voice was thoughtful, no longer sharp with expectation but contemplative. "Change has a way of finding us when we least expect it. This union of ours... it is a heavy thing, Lady Elowen. I sense that you carry more than just a simple desire for happiness in your thoughts."
She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering herself. Was he this perceptive with everyone, or did he truly see her? She could feel the pull of his words, like a thread tugging at something buried. She wondered how much he could truly see, how much he could truly know. Her magic shimmered at the edges of her thoughtsâa gentle, pulsing thing, alive and ancient.
"I imagine we all have our burdens," she finally said, her voice steadying. She looked back at him, gathering her thoughts. "You are a prince, Your Highness. You carry your own expectations, your own duties."
He was silent for a moment, his gaze steady. "And yet, here we stand," he said, his words carrying weight. His voice softened, and he looked down at his hands as if considering his next words carefully. "I never imagined that marriage could feel like this. A weight I can't lift. But perhaps that is the nature of magic, of fate. We are drawn together by more than duty."
Elowen wasn't sure how to respond. Her instincts tugged at her, half wanting to retreat, half wanting to step closer. His words seemed simple at first glance, but there was a thread of truth in themâa kind of vulnerability that wasn't common in someone of his position. She looked away, unsure if he was being honest, or if this was merely another strategy to win her trust. Court politics were a delicate dance, every word carefully calculated. And yet, she couldn't help but feel his words weren't just calculated.
"You must have many things on your mind, Prince Alaric," she said at last, her voice light, careful. "This is a strange path for both of us."
He nodded, looking as though he were struggling with his own thoughts. His gaze turned back toward the distant horizon, where the glow of the enchanted lights cast golden ripples on the treetops. "Strange indeed," he murmured. His voice held an edge of frustration. "And yet I can't pretend this is unfamiliar, though it should be. Perhaps some things are written in the stars."
Elowen shifted, uncertain how to respond to the cryptic nature of his words. He seemed as distant as the stars themselves, a puzzle wrapped in silken tunics and crowns. She could feel his presence beside her, solid and steady. His confidence was magnetic, even if it unsettled her.
"Stars are rarely predictable," she said softly, surprising herself with her own words.
His lips curved into a small smile. "True," he admitted. His voice seemed to grow lighter as he looked back at her, though the air between them was thick with both uncertainty and magic. "But I think we'll find our way through this, Lady Elowen. Perhaps it is magic itself that brought us here."
Before she could reply, he stepped back, his gaze shifting toward the gentle glow of the lanterns farther along the path. His tone grew lighter, but there was an unspoken challenge in it. "Come, the evening awaits. Let us return to our duties before the stars see fit to whisper too many secrets."
And with that, he turned, his presence sweeping the air like a quiet current, leaving her standing beneath the weeping willow tree.
Her thoughts churned as she followed him back toward the heart of the celebration.
But she couldn't shake the feeling: his words lingered. His voice lingered. And the stars, as bright and endless as they were, seemed to have their own story to tell.