Heartfire and Moonlight

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Elena’s Perspective

The palace smelled of roses and candle wax, warm and comforting, as I awoke wrapped in King Donald’s arms. His heartbeat was steady against my own, each pulse a promise of something fierce and eternal.

We had truly become inseparable.

Every morning began with his gentle whisper, “Good morning, little flame.” I’d smile in return, resting my head against his chest as he brushed a lock of hair from my face. He would lead me to ...