Isabella and I walked through the castle grounds in silence for several minutes, the evening air cool against my skin. The gardens were peaceful at this hour, with only the sound of crickets and the distant gurgle of the fountain breaking the quiet.

"Arthur," Isabella said finally, stopping near a rose bush heavy with white blooms. "I need to ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me."

I turned to face her, studying her expression in the fading light. "Alright."

"Do you like ...