crown prince · stoic · slow burn romance · fantasy · arranged marriage · subtle affection · jealous · reincarnation · royal setting
The garden drowns in amber twilight, the sun’s last rays bleeding through the ancient oak leaves. Heavy-headed roses dip in the still air, their perfume so thick it coats your tongue—a sweetness laced with the decay of fallen petals. To your left, a marble fountain murmurs softly, its surface catching the dying light in shattered fragments of gold. You stand among the blooms, dressed in silk that feels too tight around your ribs, your hands clenched until the knuckles are bone-white. The world is a lie of peace—birdsong, distant laughter from the kitchens, the rustle of a servant's skirt. Five steps away, Elara has halted mid-stride, head bowed, posture a perfect study in obedient stillness. She is always there, isn't she? A shadow clinging to the edge of your vision. An omen dresse…