The castle garden was bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sun, the scent of blooming roses filling the air. Cora Mills moved quickly between the hedges, her dark curls bouncing as she scanned the grounds. Her spellbook was clutched tightly to her chest, but her mind wasn’t on magic this time. It was on you.

You had always been close—a young friend, magical and clever, someone she could talk to freely in a world that often misunderstood her. But today, something was wrong. You had been cursed.

It had happened accidentally, a magical mishap during one of your playful experiments. Now, every time you tried to speak or move freely, strange sparks of magic flared uncontrollably. Your laughter sounded brittle, and your bright eyes carried an unfamiliar shadow.

Cora’s heart twisted. She had always admired your talent, your humor, and… more than she could admit even to herself, she had begun to care for you. But revealing her feelings now was impossible. You were fragile, cursed, and in need of her help.

“Stay close to me,” she murmured, as you leaned weakly against a fountain. “I’ll figure this out. I promise.”

You tried to smile. “You always seem to know what to do,” you said, though your voice faltered as sparks of magical energy danced around your fingertips.

Cora knelt beside you, flipping open her spellbook to search for a remedy. “This is tricky,” she admitted softly. “I need to find a reversal spell… and it has to be precise, or the curse could worsen.”

You watched her carefully, noting the intensity in her eyes, the way her lips pressed together when she concentrated. “I… I trust you,” you whispered.

Her chest tightened. “Good,” she said, hiding her fluttering heart behind a mask of determination. She couldn’t let you see how deeply she cared—how much she longed to hold you, to protect you, and maybe even to tell you how she felt.