The moon bathed the royal garden in silver light, casting a soft glow upon the intertwining vines and the wild roses that lined the gravel paths. The night air was sweet with the scent of jasmine, thick and intoxicating, as if the world itself was conspiring to create the perfect illusion of serenity.
In the heart of that garden, beneath a towering willow, Darius held Odi close—his arms strong around her waist, his lips pressed to her neck as if he was breathing her in. The silk of her borrowed gown pooled at her feet, her hair a halo of dark waves against the pale shimmer of his royal tunic.
They were tangled in a moment neither of them wanted to end.
But they were not alone.
From the edge of the courtyard, shrouded in the shadows of a sculpted archway, Princess Ariana stood frozen, her manicured hands clenched into trembling fists. Her eyes, once wide with disbelief, now burned with unfiltered rage.
