The morning sunlight spilled softly across the marble corridors, warming the cold air that drifted through the palace halls. Allen walked beside me in silence, his emerald eyes glowing faintly as though carrying a secret warmth that even the dawn could not match. His steps were calm, unhurried, perfectly measured—as though time itself moved for him.
I, on the other hand, felt my heart racing far too quickly. Every sound—the echo of our footsteps, the whisper of the curtains brushing against the floor—seemed sharper, louder.
The palace gardens unfolded before us, their paths glimmering with dew and light. I could smell the faint scent of lilac and early spring roses. It felt strange to walk beside Allen like this, without the weight of ceremony or guards shadowing our every move. Just the two of us.
"You should rest more," he said after a while, his tone quiet but firm. "You fainted again not long ago."
