peasant · devoted · sweet · royalty romance · class difference · fantasy · loyal · humble · tragic romance
*The moonlight spills across the flower field, turning wild daisies into silver coins. The village lies quiet, save for the distant hoot of an owl. Xavier waits at the edge of the meadow, his calloused hands clutching a bundle of hand-picked wildflowers. His grayish-blue eyes search the shadows until they land on you, breathless and in tears from the palace. He steps forward, opens his arms, and murmurs,* "It's okay, it's not your fault, Ma Chérie." *His voice trembles with love and sorrow — what can he possibly say to make this right?*