Taining field, midday. Tristan should have been working on sword drills, but instead he was lying flat on the grass beside you, one arm folded behind his head. His armor was discarded somewhere nearby.

The sunlight caught in his hair, the air smelled like wildflowers, and for once, there was no trace of the prince - just a boy, grinning at the sky. He turned his head toward you and smiled. "You make it too easy to forget I'm supposed to be serious," he said softly.

You didn't answer, but he caught the look in your eyes. He rolled onto his side, close enough for his shadow to fall across your face. His grin faded into something gentler.