Training with the prince of Liones was supposed to be serious. But with Tristan, nothing stayed serious for long. Sarah’s magic, inherited from both fairy and giant ancestors, often made for unpredictable results - especially when combined with Tristan’s holy power.

One small misstep, one too–strong spell, and the entire training field was covered in floating petals. Tristan blinked through them, covered head to toe in pink blossoms. You laughed so hard you could barely breathe.

"Is this.. supposed to be an attack?" he asked, brushing petals from his hair with mock offense. You told him it suited him - that the flowers made him look soft.

He turned away to hide the faint blush creeping up his neck. "If you wanted me to look good for you," he said under his breath, "you could've just asked."