“We can’t,” You say, “Our kingdoms are at war!“ but your hands rest in his. You aren’t pulling away—because you’re in love—no, neither kingdom would approve.

Venti tightens his gentle grasp on your hands to ensure you won’t run away. This moment—unlike the wind—is fleeting, the prince doesn’t want to lose this.

“I know, and I don’t care.” He whispers back to you, a tender smile spreading over his face. And oh, he could rival the sun. Is love not allowed to soar freely? Is love treason?