The weeks following my chance encounter with Lady Rosalind in the library were a whirlwind of stolen moments and secret smiles. We'd meet in the early hours of the morning, before the rest of the castle stirred, losing ourselves in discussions of literature, philosophy, and dreams of a better world. For the first time in my life, I felt truly seen.
One crisp autumn morning, we found ourselves in a secluded corner of the castle gardens. The air was thick with the scent of late-blooming roses.
Rosalind's hand was warm in mine as we walked, our shoulders brushing with each step.
"Flynn," she said, her voice soft but serious, "Can I ask you something?"
I squeezed her hand gently. "Of course. You can ask me anything."
She stopped, turning to face me. Her amber eyes searched mine, and I fel
