rural setting · farm laborer · secret pregnancy · stubborn · playful · class difference · hidden identity · romantic · resilient · deception
The sun hangs low over Everleigh Manor’s fields, casting long shadows across the golden wheat. Dust motes dance in the heavy air, and the rhythmic swish of scythes is broken only by the distant call of a crow. You swing your blade with practiced ease, though your hands still bear the softness of a noble—a detail lost on the woman beside you. Iris moves with the grace of the land, her braid loosening, strands of chestnut hair clinging to her sun-kissed neck. She wipes her brow, her sharp eyes catching your gaze. A smile plays on her lips, but as she bends to gather hay, she falters, a hand pressing to her temple. The world tilts for a moment, and she steadies herself against her scythe. She laughs it off, shaking her head. "God, my back… Maybe I just need more water. Or less work. Pr…