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The palace gardens stretched like a hidden paradise behind the main halls, lush with deep green hedges, winding cobblestone paths, and flowers in every color the sky could envy.
There were shaded gazebos wrapped in blooming wisteria, quiet fountains that whispered as they spilled, and air heavy with the scent of jasmine and lavender.
It had always been my favorite place.
And now, for the first time in years… I wasn't walking it alone.
Rowen and I strolled side by side down one of the old garden paths, the sun flickering through the canopy of trees above us.
The guards had stayed behind, and no nobles were trailing in their shadows.
Just us.
And the memory of every step we'd once taken here before.
"You remember that tree?"
I asked, pointing to an old silverleaf oak leaning over the koi pond.
Rowen smiled faintly. "That's where you pushed me into the water."
"You dared me to kiss a frog!"
"It was for research," he said with mock seriousness. "Scientific discovery."
"You were ten!"
"I was ambitious."
We both laughed, our voices mingling with the quiet breeze.
My rose-pink gown brushed the grass as we walked, my bare fingers trailing along the soft edges of petals in bloom.
Rowen's hand was close to mine, brushing it every few steps, until finally, he took it.
Our fingers laced without hesitation.
It felt so natural… like a thread being tied back together after years of fray.
We passed the garden bench where we used to sit and braid flower crowns. The patch of wild lilies I had once claimed as my "kingdom."
The ivy-covered stone where Rowen had carved my initials with his belt knife when we were only thirteen, E + R, tucked into a crooked heart.
"It's all still here,"
I whispered, voice thick with something between awe and ache.
"Like time just… paused."
"No," Rowen said softly. "Time kept going. But it waited for us to catch up."
I stopped near the small white archway that led into the rose garden, our rose garden.
The one where Rowen had first taught me how to tell thorns from buds.
The one we'd run through after getting caught sneaking honey cakes from the kitchen.
The vines were fuller now.
The blooms were richer. The world around us, older.
But beneath it all, I still felt the same warmth.
"You know," I said, tilting my face toward him,
"I used to come here and talk to the flowers like they could give me answers."
Rowen squeezed my hand. "Maybe they did."
I turned toward him then, fully, and our eyes met.
He looked at me not like a queen, but like a girl he once knew who used to call him her knight even when he wore no armor.
His gaze traveled over my face, the curve of my lips, the softness in my eyes, the strength in my stillness.
"I thought of you every time I saw a garden," he said.
"Every flower I passed, every scent that reminded me of home… it was always you."
My throat tightened. "Even after all this time?"
"I never stopped," he said.
And then
He reached up, brushing a lock of my hair behind my ear.
I didn't move.
Didn't blink.
And then… I took a slow step forward.
My voice was barely a whisper. "Kiss me again, Rowen."
He didn't hesitate.
He closed the space between us and kissed me, slowly this time, reverently.
His lips met mine like a vow, his hands cupping my face as I melted into him.
The roses bloomed around us like witnesses.
The air held still. The whole world seemed to hush in awe of us.
When we broke apart, breathless, our foreheads pressed together, Rowen whispered
"You don't have to be strong right now."
I closed my eyes. "I'm only strong because of you."
The quiet of the garden was broken by the sharp clip-clop of hooves approaching over stone.
I lifted my head slightly, startled by the sound, Rowen's hand still gently resting against my waist.
We both turned just as Rye appeared, riding confidently on his black stallion.
The sunlight caught the polished silver clasp at his shoulder and the crimson trim of his riding jacket.
His expression was charming, but his eyes were calculating.
"Your Highness," he said smoothly, dismounting with practiced grace.
"You're a hard one to find this morning."
I stepped back from Rowen instinctively, though the warmth of Rowen's hand lingered at my back.
"We were walking," I said, my tone calm but guarded.
"I see that," Rye replied, eyes flicking to Rowen with a flicker of disdain before returning to me.
"I only came because… don't you remember? We planned to ride out this morning — a short hunt in the forest. You said you'd join."
I blinked. I had said something like that, weeks ago, before Rowen returned.
Rye walked closer, handing off the reins of his horse to one of the stable hands nearby.
"I already arranged the gear. The guards are waiting at the southern trail. It'll be peaceful, just the two of us."
Rowen's jaw tightened, his stance sharpening like a blade being drawn, but he said nothing.
I looked between them, Rowen, steady and still at my side… and Rye, perfectly dressed, perfectly timed, and waiting for me to step away.
I didn't.
Not immediately.
Instead, I said quietly, "I… didn't think we were still doing that."
Rye tilted his head, smile not quite reaching his eyes.
"Of course we are. A little tradition after your official coronation ceremony. You said it yourself, 'a queen must know her land.'"
He held out a hand to me, expectant.
Rowen's voice cut through the air before I could move.
"She doesn't have to go if she doesn't want to."
I froze.
Rye's smile slipped. "I wasn't speaking to you, soldier."
"And yet here you are, interrupting," Rowen replied coolly.
The moment pulsed with tension, sharp, breathless, and electric.
I stepped slightly forward, placing myself between the two men.
"That's enough," I said firmly, eyes narrowing. "Both of you."
I looked at Rye then, voice softer but cautious. "Give me a moment, Rye."
He paused… then nodded stiffly. "I'll be by the horses."
As he walked off, Rowen turned to me.
"You don't have to go."
"I know," I said, meeting his gaze. "But if I don't, he'll only grow more dangerous."
Rowen's eyes darkened. "He already is."
There was a long pause.
I reached up, brushing my fingers gently over the crest on his uniform.
"I'll go," I whispered. "But only to keep the peace."
Rowen's voice dropped, quiet and pained. "Then promise me something."
"What?"
He stepped closer. "Come back to me after."
Our eyes met.
And I nodded.