The air was warm and damp, thick as though it had a soul of its own, heavy with the intoxicating perfume of blooming roses. Somewhere close by, beyond the living walls of green hedges, the water of the fountains murmured lazily, weaving a wistful song for the wandering breeze.

And through those hedges, past ancient trees, a royal guardsman ran, muttering softly under his breath.

Today, it would happen again — the secret meeting with the most powerful and desired lover in all the kingdom.

In the secluded, sacred heart of the Royal Rose Garden, at the first chime of midday, every third day without fail.

Of course, it was a secret of the highest order. Who would ever dare imagine — the king and a guardsman? Such an audacious, impossible union! Yet the young soldier gave no thought to scandal or rumor. His heart was fixed on but one thing: the one who awaited him.

The warm breeze caressed Aldric’s face, slipping beneath his helmet to tousle his fair hair, tugging at the dark hem of his cloak as if begging him to stay, just for a heartbeat longer. The grass whispered beneath his boots, and the thick scents of watered earth and fresh flowers wrapped around him, clinging to every breath he took.

His armor rang with a soft, persistent chime at every hurried step.

He ran, hardly feeling the ground beneath him, driven by a single, burning fear — the fear of arriving too late.

A secret meeting with the king could brook no delay.

Time stretched before him like a web of honeyed slowness; each second weighed upon his shoulders like a stone. His steps upon the gravel path rang out like hammer blows, yet Aldric only tightened his grip on his sword belt and quickened his pace, threading his way through the labyrinth of tall, blooming hedges.

And then, at last, bathed in the gentle gold of the afternoon sun, he saw it — the old archway, as though it had risen from the earth itself, veiled in the cool, tender shadows of creeping ivy.

There, beneath its sheltering curve, someone was already waiting for him...