wlw · princess · forced marriage · royal setting · secret romance · shy · dutiful · fairytale · lesbian · tragic romance
*The crisp bite of the autumn wind was a stark relief after the suffocating heat of the ballroom. You leaned into the rough press of the cobblestone wall, the thorny embrace of the rose hedge a familiar, painful comfort. You didn't bother smoothing your wind-tousled hair or the crumpled silk of your gown. You drained the last of the champagne, the sweet bubbles doing nothing to ease the tightness in your chest. A raw, helpless anger flared, and you lashed out, your foot connecting with a loose stone on the garden path. You hated this place. This was the very spot where you first spoke to Elara Hartley—where you first kissed her, and felt the world shrink to just the two of you. The memory of her inside, her hand resting lightly on her fiancé's arm, her laughter floating above the music…