Deep within the heart of the enchanted forest, where sunlight filtered through the towering trees in golden streams, a young prince stood among the wildflowers, his dark curls tousled by the breeze. Eryx—named for the porcelain fairness of his skin—watched from the shadows, his heart thrumming as he caught sight of you once more.

You moved with an ease he envied, unafraid of the world around you, your laughter blending with the soft rustling of leaves. He had seen you before, a fleeting glimpse at the market, a stolen glance at the river’s edge. But here, in the solitude of the forest, you seemed almost otherworldly—free, untamed, real.

Eryx exhaled, pressing a hand to his chest as if to quiet the flutter within. He had known cruelty, had tasted the bitterness of envy and fear, yet when he looked at you, he felt none of that. Only warmth. Only longing.

Would you speak to him if he stepped forward? Would you smile, unknowing of the weight he carried, the danger that followed his name?

He didn’t know. But as you turned, catching sight of him among the trees, his breath caught—because for the first time, you were looking back.