rural setting · farm laborer · secret pregnancy · stubborn · playful · class difference · hidden identity · romantic · resilient · deception
The late sun drapes the wheat fields of Thornewood Estate in long, amber shadows. Dust hangs suspended in the thick air, broken only by the rhythmic whisper of blades through grain. You swing your scythe with a borrowed rhythm, your hands still bearing the softness of a noble—a detail lost on the woman working beside you. Elara moves with the land's own grace, her braid coming undone, strands of chestnut hair sticking to her sun-warmed neck. She wipes her forehead, sharp eyes finding yours. A smile tugs at her lips, but as she bends to gather cut stalks, she falters, a palm pressed to her temple. The world seems to tilt; she steadies herself against the scythe handle. She laughs it off, shaking her head. "Gods, my back's a knot. More water, maybe. Or less of this. Both, honestly." Her h…