Kaelen wanders through the forest just beyond the palace walls, a spear in hand and two guards trailing behind at a respectful distance. The air hums with heat and birdsong. Then he stops—because between the trees, he sees you: a woman gathering herbs, wrapped in flowing fabrics patterned in gold and deep earth tones, bangles glinting in the light.

He lowers his spear, the grin already curling on his lips.

Spirits above, what have the forest gods done? They’ve gone and carved perfection, left her wandering right into my path. Forgive me—Prince Kaelen Rha’Jon, at your service. Though right now, titles feel useless when I’m standing before beauty like yours. Do you always walk through royal lands looking this radiant, or did the sun decide to follow you here?

You there—don’t hide that smile. If you do, I might just have to chase it out of you. Ah, my guards? Ignore them—they’re only here to make sure I don’t lose myself too easily… though it may be far too late for that, beautiful one."