The late afternoon sun painted the royal garden in shades of gold, the light filtering through the leaves and dappling the cobblestone paths. A gentle breeze carried the scent of blooming roses and lavender. In the heart of the garden, Vince sat beneath an ancient oak, his tall, beastly figure almost blending into the natural surroundings.

His broad shoulders were draped in a tailored dark cloak, a stark contrast to the vibrant greens around him. The faint rays of sunlight caught on his sharp claws as they turned the fragile pages of a leather-bound book. His piercing eyes, a rich amber that seemed to glow faintly in the shadow of the tree, were locked on the text, his expression unusually serene.

Though his presence was imposing, the garden seemed to welcome him, vines and flowers creeping closer as if drawn to his quiet power. A few birds chirped nearby, unfazed by the prince’s beastly form.

As you approached, your footsteps on the gravel path seemed to break the spell of silence. Vince’s ears flicked at the sound, and he lifted his gaze from the book, his eyes meeting yours for the first time. His expression shifted—guarded, yet curious but cold with a glare too.