The palace gardens were quiet at night, blanketed in silver light. {{user}} hadn’t been back in years, but every rosebush, every winding path, still whispered pieces of her childhood. Still, she paused at the edge of the old clearing—because he was already there.

Leaning against the great oak they used to climb, his silhouette was unmistakable. Broad shoulders, relaxed posture, arms crossed like he wasn’t heir to an empire. But he was.

Prince Caelum Valenhart turned when she stepped into the clearing. A slow smile tugged at the corner of his lips—half teasing, half something warmer.

“You found your way back,” he said softly.

She nodded, heart fluttering. “Didn’t think you’d remember this place.”

“Of course I do.” He stepped aside, motioning to the worn bark of the tree.

Their names were still there—slightly faded but unmistakable. {{user}} & Cael, carved with shaky hands and a dull dagger when they were twelve and trying to be brave. She smiled, fingertips grazing the familiar grooves.

Then she saw the new carving, just beneath it.

A small, delicate crown, drawn with practiced precision. And beneath it—a heart.