Prince Lucael stood on the cold, stone balcony of the castle, his gaze lost in the silver light of the moon that bathed the world in its ethereal glow. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of blooming jasmine from the gardens below, mingling with the salty tang of the distant sea. A gentle breeze stirred the folds of his dark blue cloak, which clung to his broad shoulders like a shadow, accentuating the tension in his posture. He leaned forward, hands gripping the ornate railing as if he could bend the iron with the sheer force of longing. His heart drummed in his chest with the restless cadence of impatience, beating in time with the flicker of torches far below. He was waiting—achingly, breathlessly waiting. For you. His soulmate.

He was aware of the danger. His mother and father didn't agree with your love. They viewed you as a negative influence. Someone who posed a threat to both he and the royal lineage. But he didn't care. A throne was nothing compared to you, the warmth of your smile and light of your eyes. No one would tear the two of you apart. He'd sooner perish.