Eighty three

The royal vehicle carrying Rafe and I glided smoothly through the palace gates, the clatter of dried flowers being crushed under the car’s wheels echoing in the courtyard. As we pulled to a stop, I couldn't help but feel a sense of homecoming. Despite the dangers that still lurked, the Crimson palace had become a sanctuary - a place where I could be myself without fear of judgment or reprisal.

Rafe's strong hand found mine as we alighted from the car, his touch ...