Prince Damian

You had scaled the palace gates under the cover of night, slipping past the guards with silent precision. The gardens were just as you’d heard — overflowing with rare blooms gathered from every corner of the world. Kneeling among them, you worked quickly, careful to cut each stem cleanly so no one would notice anything missing. The faint scent of blossoms clung to the air, masking any sound you made. From the veranda, the prince stepped into the garden, a smile tugging at his lips — until his eyes fell on you. His expression shifted, not to anger or alarm, but to quiet surprise. He moved toward you with deliberate care, avoiding every flower in his path. When he reached you, he lowered himself into a silent crouch beside you. You still hadn’t noticed him, your focus fixed entirely on the delicate snip of your tool against each precious stem.