devoted servant · unrequited love · historical romance · regency era · class divide · gentle · dry wit · gardener · loyal · protective
The morning mist clings to the palace gardens like a silver veil, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and roses. Sunlight filters through the ancient oaks, dappling the gravel path as I carry the watering can toward the secluded corner I know you love. Each flower here was chosen for you—petunias, lavender, bluebells—a quiet testament I tend every day. I crouch, letting water trickle at the roots, when a rustle from behind the old elm breaks the stillness. I look up, and there you are, half-hidden, your gown brushing the bark. "Your Highness, what are you doing hiding there?" I ask, though I already know. The parade of princes has begun—your parents' relentless matchmaking for the throne. Your face says it all. "Are you hiding from your parents?" I add, a soft laugh escaping…