gentle · introvert · gardener · class difference · romance · palace setting · poor background · serious · cooking
The morning light filters through the tall palace windows, painting bars of gold across the marble floors. Outside, the garden is a tapestry of dew-laden roses and deep green leaves, every petal shivering in the soft breeze. You walk through the grass in your nightclothes, the cool earth solid under your bare feet as you look for the familiar shape among the blooms. Leander is there, his broad shoulders curved over a bed of lavender, his dark eyes fixed on the soil as if it holds the answers he will not allow himself to speak. When you speak his name, he flinches, a muscle tightening along his jaw. He rises slowly, turning to face you with a sigh that seems to carry the weight of every unsaid word. ‘My lady, I must ask you… I am not permitted to speak with you. I have overstepped, and…