────୨ৎ────
The morning light spilled into the chamber like silk—soft, golden, reverent.
It kissed the white stone floors, slid up velvet curtains, and bathed the air in a hush of ceremony.
Inside my royal dressing room, a quiet flurry of hands and fabric moved around me like a storm wrapped in satin.
My ladies-in-waiting worked in gentle, elegant choreography—one adjusted the corset ribbons on my back, another threaded jewels through my dark, coiled hair.
The gown was unlike any I had worn before — a custom creation of twilight silver and rose, delicate embroidery glittering like constellations across my skirts. Its train stretched behind me like a dream made tangible.
My face, calm and glowing, was the image of a sovereign.
But behind my stillness… my heart was pounding.
I sat quietly before the mirror, letting the women move around me like whispers.
I said nothing, gave no complaint. But as they brushed my cheeks with rouge and pinned my veil with shimmering pearls, a storm churned behind my eyes.
"Your Highness," one of them said with a soft smile, stepping back.
"You look… breathtaking."
I glanced at my reflection.
And for a moment — just a breath — I didn't recognize the woman staring back.
she looked older.
Sharper.
Stronger.
Her lips were full and painted a soft rose, her lashes kissed with gold powder, and her posture… flawless.
A queen.
But something was missing.
her eyes.
They looked tired.
Hollow.
Cold.
Another lady offered a silver-velvet box.
"Your coronation pendant, Princess."
I opened it absently and reached for the necklace.
And that's when I saw it — peeking out from beneath my sleeve — the delicate, sun-faded threads of a flower bracelet.
Small, simple, worn.
But still there.
Always there.
I stared at it for a long moment, my hand hovering above it.
The room faded around me. The women's voices softened into a murmur.
And suddenly—
Flashback: Years Ago, in the Garden
We were only children then.
Fourteen, maybe fifteen.
The air was warm, the garden wild with blooming lilies and buttercups.
I sat on the grass barefoot, my head tilted back, eyes closed to the sunlight.
Rowen had been crouched beside me, threading little wildflowers into a woven band of green stems.
"Don't look yet," he said, his voice full of boyish determination.
I peeked anyway, giggling.
"Evelynne!"
"I'm not looking! I swear!"
He huffed and kept working, his blond hair glinting in the sun, his hands clumsy but careful.
At last, he stood and looped the tiny bracelet around my wrist, tying it with a simple knot.
"There," he said proudly.
"You can't take it off."
"Ever?" I teased, examining the uneven blossoms.
"Ever," he repeated. "Not until… you're queen."
I laughed. "That'll be ages away!"
"Still," he shrugged, and gave me a crooked smile.
"You'll need something to remind you who you were before the crown."
I stared at it for a long time.
Then quietly whispered, "Will you still be here when I'm queen?"
He looked at me and nodded.
"I'll never leave you."
Back to the Present
A gentle knock at the dressing room door brought me back.
"Your Highness," came a courtier's voice.
"It's time."
I blinked, my hand resting protectively over the flower bracelet still wrapped around my wrist—faded now, threads barely holding together, but unbroken.
The same bracelet.
The same promise.
But he had left.
I straightened slowly and gave a small nod to the mirror.
My ladies stood in awe.
"You look like the moon herself," one whispered.
But I couldn't answer.
I walked toward the door with measured grace, veil fluttering behind me like mist, and gown whispering across the floor.
No one saw how tightly I clutched my wrist as I passed.
No one knew I was still wearing his promise, hidden beneath silk and silver.
And no one—not even me—knew he was coming home.