12. **The Collision**
As Luciana turns a corner, lost in thought, she collides with something hard and firm.
She stumbles back—
But a hand catches hers, steadying her.
Startled, she looks up—and finds herself staring into familiar eyes.
Sharp like steel, but warm like melted honey.
A soft, melodic voice asks:
> "My apologies, Miss..."
Luciana blinks, the fog clearing from her head as recognition sets in.
Ah. *Raphael.*
She'd know those sharp eyes and soothing voice anywhere.
Luciana pulls away, composing herself with all her usual poise—
Except her heart is suddenly beating like a hummingbird's wings.
Which is *ridiculous.*
She manages a small smile:
> "Not at all, Your Highness. It was my fault."
Raphael lifts an eyebrow, his expression both curious and slightly amused.
> "Were you lost in thought that deeply, or simply distracted?"
13. **Poetic Awareness**
Luciana looks at Raphael—really *looks*—
And for a brief moment, she isn't Luciana Crain, 12-year-old reincarnated novelist with cat ears no one sees.
She's just... *a reader.*
Because she knows him.
From the story.
The second prince—tall, graceful, with ink-stained fingers and eyes like twilight verses. A man who writes sonnets no one dares publish... all addressed to his stepsister Odette.
Devoted.
Heartfelt.
Hopelessly romantic~ 💔
And yes—he's a siscon too.
But unlike the crown prince's loud obsession?
Raphael's love is quiet. Painful poetry hidden in candlelight and sealed envelopes never sent~
She blinks—and reality returns~
He watches her now with gentle curiosity...
> "You're staring," he says softly—not unkindly.
> "Have we met before?"
14. **Stoic Stutter**
Luciana straightens, forcing her expression into something calm—detached.
But her voice?
It betrays her:
> "N-No. We haven't."
A beat too long.
A breath too shaky~
She clears her throat and tries again, tone cool as parchment:
> "I merely... recognize you from court."
Raphael tilts his head—eyes narrowing just slightly, like a poet spotting a misplaced comma.
> "Strange."
He folds his hands behind his back.
> "You look at me like you've read my soul." 🖤
And oh—
*That hits too close.*
Because she *has.* She's read the unpublished verses in Volume 2's appendix—*"To the Girl With Dawn in Her Hair"*... written in secret ink only visible under moonlight~
She swallows.
Her invisible cat ears flick once—nervous.
But she lifts her chin anyway:
> "I don't know what you mean, Your Highness."
Liar~ 🐾
Raphael smiles—not mocking. Not cruel.
Just... knowing~
Like he senses the story swirling around them both~
Then softly?
He murmurs:
> "Perhaps we'll meet properly one day... when neither of us is hiding behind titles."
And with that?
He bows slightly—and walks on down the hall...
Leaving Luciana standing alone...
Heart racing...
And wondering—
Did *he* just write a line into *her* story? 🌙📖💫
15. **The Heroine's Entrance**
Luciana sighs, still tangled in thoughts of foxes and poetry—
Then *bump.*
She stumbles back—again.
And this time?
Soft hands catch her arms gently.
"Careful~"
A voice like morning light wrapped in silk.
She looks up—
And there she is.
**Odette Delacroix.**
Golden hair flowing like spun sunlight.
Eyes the color of spring blue—warm, kind, unfairly radiant~
Dressed in pastel lace that seems to make the very air brighter~
*The* heroine.
Beloved sister.
Fated favorite of two princes who would burn empires for her smile~
Luciana freezes.
Not from fear—
But from *recognition.*
This is the girl whose name is whispered in sonnets and carved into royal decrees with trembling hands~
Yet here?
Odette smiles down at her—no arrogance, no condescension...
Just gentle concern:
> "Are you alright? You seem a little... distracted."
Luciana blinks once—then schools her features into perfect composure~
> "I'm fine." A small bow. "My apologies for bumping into you."
Odette tilts her head—not unkindly—and hums:
> "You're Luciana Crain... right?"
She smiles wider—as if she'd been waiting to meet her:
> "Philip's sister?"
16. **Introduction**
Luciana blinks—then nods.
> "That's right, your highness. "
Odette laughs quietly—like wind chimes in a soft breeze.
> "No need to be so formal—Odette is fine~
She steps closer, studying Luciana with open curiosity...
And something in that look?
Something about her smile?
Makes that invisible cat ear of hers—
**Tingle.** 🐾
> "You have... beautiful eyes."
17. **Unexpected Warmth**
Luciana looks away—just slightly—her cheeks warming in a way that *really* shouldn't happen to someone who's supposed to be the spoil, delusional villainess.
But Odette?
She just smiles wider—like she'd just discovered something precious.
> "They're like moonlit ink... deep and full of stories."
A soft pause.
> "Do you write too?"
Luciana stiffens.
*Too sharp.* Too close to the truth~
She glances back, cautious—
But all she sees in Odette's eyes is genuine curiosity... not suspicion. Not rivalry~
Just warmth~ 🌸
So she answers carefully:
> "...Sometimes."
Then, quieter:
> "Just little things. For myself."
Odette beams—as if that wasn't the most obvious lie ever told~
> "I'd love to read them one day!"
And just like that?
A hand slips into hers—
Soft. Warm.
Before Luciana can react, Odette giggles:
> "Come with me! I was going to have tea in the garden—and every good story needs a quiet place to grow."
Luciana stammers—
Wait—what?
No plan? No script? No warning?!
But Odette is already tugging her forward—
Like they're childhood friends.
Like they've known each other forever~
And as Luciana stumbles after her...
One terrifying thought flashes through her mind:
*...Is this how heroines steal your fate without even trying?*
🐾📖💕🌸
18. **A Poet's Memory**
Raphael walks slowly down the hushed corridor, hands clasped behind his back—yet his mind is far from still.
His steps are quiet, but his thoughts?
Loud as thunder under moonlight~ 🌙
He keeps seeing her face.
*Luciana.*
Not just the girl who bumped into him—but the way she *looked* at him.
Like she already knew every secret he'd ever buried in ink and silence~
Like she'd read a poem no one has ever seen...
And worse—
He felt it too.
That strange pull. That flicker in the air between them—like fate adjusting its pen~ ✒️💫
He exhales softly... almost to himself:
> "You don't stare at someone like that unless you've mourned them before..."
But that's impossible.
They've never met properly...
Or have they?
A pause by a window. The garden below—where Odette now laughs with Luciana over tea, two figures bent close beneath flowering cherry trees~
Raphael watches for a long moment... expression unreadable...
Then murmurs:
> "Strange... I don't write about cat ears or invisible tails..."
Another breath.
> "...So why do I feel like I'm reading *your* story instead of writing my own?" 🖤📖
And somewhere deep inside?
The poet wonders if he's finally met a verse even he can't control~ 💔🐾✨
19. **A Prince with a Manuscript**
Raphael finds Ajan in the royal library—curled under a window, engrossed in a certain *something.*
Raphael leans against the doorframe, watching his younger brother for a moment.
Then—in a quiet tone that still manages to sound both deadpan and faintly judging—
> "Reading *that* again, are we?"
Ajan startles—his eyes snapping up like a guilty child—
But he regains his composure almost instantly, closing the manuscript and folding his arms.
20. **The Defense of Ajan**
Ajan shoots his brother a withering glare—half defiant, half-indignant.
> "I can read whatever I want."
Raphael lifts an eyebrow—equal parts amused and exasperated.
21. *Sibling Banter*
Raphael rolls his eyes slightly, the corner of his mouth curling.
> "I never said you couldn't. I'm simply judging you silently."
Ajan narrows his eyes.
> "Which *isn't* silent. It's passive-aggressive—a fact you are fully aware of, you insufferable poet."
Raphael feigns offense, placing a hand over his chest like a noble knight.
> "You wound me, brother dear. My judgment is pure and noble... like my verses."
22. **Poet vs. Fox**
Ajan doesn't look up—just flips a page with deliberate slowness, voice dripping with dry amusement:
> "Yeah... someone who writes poetry for his step-sister in the late midnight hour~
> I'm *sure* the royal scribes don't burn those drafts out of pity."
Raphael doesn't flinch.
Instead, he smirks—cool as ink drying on parchment.
> "At least my poems are written from the heart."
He glances at the novel in Ajan's hands—the title emblazoned in delicate silver: *The Girl Who Wrote Me First.*
"Yours? You're reading about a fox thief who falls for a girl who may or may not be writing him into ruin."
A beat.
Then Raphael tilts his head, voice low:
> "...Sounds familiar." 🖤
Ajan finally looks up—golden eyes sharp, playful—but there's heat beneath it.
> "Coincidence," he says smoothly.
"Or maybe... inspiration."
Raphael watches him carefully.
And then—
He sees it.
That rare flicker behind Ajan's gaze.
Not just teasing now...
But *want.*
His brother is already rewriting himself inside that story~
Softly?
Raphael murmurs:
> "Be careful, little fox..."
He turns to leave—but throws one last line over his shoulder:
> "Some stories don't end with thievery..."
Pause. Smile like moonlight through leaves:
> "...They end with surrender~" 🌙📖💘
23. **The Tea Revelation**
Ajan flips a page—cool, composed, monocle glinting in the library light.
Then—
> "By the way... our beloved Odette is having tea with Luciana Crain~"
The words hang in the air like a dropped inkwell.
*Click.*
Ajan's fingers freeze.
His eyes—wide behind that polished monocle—snap up to Raphael.
All pretense of nonchalance shatters.
> "...What?"
Raphael smiles—not unkindly, but with *perfect* timing:
> "You heard me. Garden terrace. Cherry blossoms. Two teacups."
He tilts his head slightly, watching his brother like a scientist observing a rare reaction:
> "Seems they're getting along *very* well~" 🍵🌸
Silence.
Then—
Ajan slowly closes the novel in his lap—far too carefully—as if it might explode from sheer tension.
His voice drops low:
> "...That wasn't part of the story."
Raphael hums, turning toward the door:
> "Maybe not..."
He glances back over his shoulder—with that same poetic smirk:
> "...But it could be." 💫🦊📖
And as he leaves?
One final truth lingers in Ajan's mind—
**The plot... just changed.**
🐾💥💘
24. **The Watchers**
Outside the library window, the garden lies bathed in golden afternoon light.
Beneath a canopy of pale cherry blossoms, Odette laughs—soft and bright as wind chimes—her hands fluttering with each word.
Luciana sits across from her.
Teacup poised.
Back straight.
Face calm.
A perfect picture of noble composure~
But Ajan sees it.
Beyond the poker face—the slight droop at the corner of her eyes...
The quiet resignation, like someone who's read too many endings they can't change~
She listens to Odette's cheerful chatter—
About flowers... poetry... how lovely it is that everyone is getting along now...
And all Luciana can do?
Is sip her tea and nods like she doesn't already know where this story leads~ 🖤
Beside him, Raphael exhales softly:
> "Strange... I thought *I* was the one writing impossible love."
Ajan doesn't answer.
His fingers tighten slightly around the novel still tucked under his arm—*Vol. 2*, its pages worn from rereading~
Then quietly—just above a whisper:
> "...She wasn't supposed to be kind."
Raphael glances at him:
> "Who? Odette?"
> "No." Ajan's gaze stays locked on Luciana—one hand lifting to adjust his monocle just slightly, heart unsteady beneath steel:
> "...Her." 💘🐾
Because villains aren't meant to be saved by heroines sipping tea in sunlight~
They're meant to fall alone...
So why does it feel like *everything* has changed... just because two girls sat down together?
🌙📖✨
25. **Silent Understanding**
Ajan watches Luciana's still form beneath the blossoms—her delicate sip of tea, the forced calm in her smile.
And for the first time, something softens behind his golden eyes.
Not pity.
*Recognition.*
She's just like him—a soul pulled from another life, dropped into this gilded story with memories no one else remembers~
But while he slipped in as an observer... she was cast as a villainess fated to fall at Odette's feet~
And now?
She has to sit there—smiling—while the heroine *befriends* her.
Chatters about flowers and feelings like it means nothing.
Like Luciana isn't screaming inside—
Because that's what they do.
They survive. They play roles. They hide~
Ajan whispers—not loud enough for anyone but Raphael to hear:
> "...It's cruel, isn't it?"
Raphael glances at him:
> "What is?"
> "Being seen." Ajan adjusts his monocle again—the gesture almost nervous now:
> "She *knows* how this ends if she fails... and still she sits there..."
A pause. Quiet fire in his voice:
> "...I wouldn't last five minutes at that table."
Raphael studies his brother—really studies him—for perhaps the first time.
Then softly?
He says:
> "You don't hate her... do you?"
Ajan doesn't answer right away.
His gaze stays fixed on Luciana...
As a single cherry petal drifts down—and lands perfectly atop her dark hair~
Like fate winking~ 🌸🖤
At last?
He murmurs:
> "...I think I want to read Volume 3." 📖🐾💫
26. **Tea & Troubled Confessions**
Beneath the cherry blossoms, Odette fans herself dramatically with a silk handkerchief, sighing:
> "Honestly! Brother Alan sent *another* poem this morning—written in rose ink—and sealed with a wax stamp of *my face.*"
She groans, burying her cheek in one palm.
> "And Raphael? He showed up at my balcony last night reciting something about 'moonlight on porcelain tears'... while wearing full court robes and holding a lute!"
Luciana nearly chokes on her tea—catches herself just in time.
She lowers the cup slowly, eyes wide behind her polite mask.
> "...A lute?"
Odette nods gravely.
> "Can you believe it? He didn't even play it! Just stood there... staring..."
Then she giggles—soft and helpless:
> "It was kind of sweet... but also *so* embarrassing~"
Luciana blinks once. Then again.
Because inside?
Her reincarnated soul is *screaming.*
This isn't just canon—it's **fanfiction** now!
Two princes hopelessly obsessed with their stepsister—
But worse?
They're *not even subtle about it!* 🫠💔
And yet...
Odette sips her tea like this is all perfectly normal. Like she doesn't realize she's the beating heart of an entire royal tragedy~
Then she looks at Luciana—with sudden curiosity:
> "Say... do you think love like that can ever be returned?"
Luciana freezes mid-sip.
The cup trembles slightly against the saucer~
Her mind races:
- One brother writes poetry no one sees.
- The other stares through windows at midnight.
- And here sits Ajan—the fox prince who watches from shadows...
- While Philip remains oblivious to his own maid's trembling heart...
- And Luciana?
She's stuck writing novels to survive...
So softly—voice barely above a whisper—
She answers:
> "...Maybe not as they dream..."
A pause. Delicate. True:
> "...But perhaps in ways no one expects." 🌙📖✨
27. **Foxy Confession**
> "So do you like my foxy brother *Ajan*, Luciana?"
The question drops like a lit firecracker.
Luciana inhales—*just as she sips tea—*
**SPLUT!**
She coughs violently, half-standing, face burning crimson~
Tea sprays the pristine napkin... the saucer... possibly a nearby squirrel in the tree...
Odette bursts into soft laughter—delighted, unrepentant:
> "Oh! So it *is* true~"
Luciana wheezes back into her seat, eyes wide with horror and embarrassment.
> "I—I don't—what kind of question is that?!"
She fans her flushed cheeks with trembling hands.
> "He's—he's your *brother!* And I'm—I'm just—"
> "Twelve?" Odette tilts her head, still smiling like she'd just uncovered royal treasure:
> "You know... Ajan never lets anyone see him read."
Silence.
Luciana blinks. Stops fanning.
Odette leans in slightly—
Voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper:
> "...But he's been carrying your book everywhere since yesterday." 🖤📘
Another beat.
Then—
A breeze stirs through the garden.
Cherry petals swirl...
And somewhere beyond the library window?
A fox prince suddenly sneezes mid-sentence~
Raphael pats his shoulder dryly:
> "...You're thinking about someone."
Back at tea?
Luciana stares at her lap, heart galloping under silk and denial~
Meanwhile—
Odette sips innocently:
> "I think he likes stories where the thief finally finds something worth staying for~" 💘🐾🌸
And Luciana?
Can only whisper into disaster:
**"...I need to write Volume 3 faster."**
28. **The Brothers Enter**
Ajan saunters down the garden path, his usual aloof expression still in place—though it slips the second he notices Luciana sitting with his step-sister at the cherry blossom tree.
Raphael strides beside him, watching his reaction with a faint, amused smirk—
Both princes come to a halt, as casual and composed as the petals drifting around them:
> "Good afternoon, ladies." 🌙🖤🐾
Odette waves. Bright smiles all around~
29. **Unexpected Comfort**
Odette beams at the two as Ajan moves with uncharacteristic boldness—stepping past his brother and directly to Luciana's side.
Without hesitation?
He gently pats her head—fingers slipping once beneath the dark strands, almost tender~
> "You held out well," he murmurs.
Voice low. Warm. Like a secret meant for only one pair of ears~ 🖤
And then—
It happens.
Luciana *leans in.*
Just slightly.
Eyes fluttering shut for a breath too long...
A soft, involuntary **purr** rising from her chest like steam from tea~
*Oh no.*
She realizes it instantly—eyes snap open, face flaring scarlet—but it's too late.
The damage is done~ 💥🐾
Raphael freezes mid-step—eyebrow arching so high it nearly vanishes into his hairline:
> "...Did she just...?"
Odette claps her hands together in delight:
> "She *purred!* Ajan! You *tamed* her!"
Ajan smirks—but there's something softer beneath it, something rare and real:
> "Not tamed."
He lets his hand linger just a second longer than necessary:
> "...Understood."
Meanwhile, Luciana is internally screaming inside her own mind—
**"I AM THE VILLEINESS!! I DO NOT PURR FOR FOX PRINCES!!"**
But externally?
She remains frozen—one cheek still lightly pressed against Ajan's sleeve... heart pounding like a trapped bird...
As the wind swirls cherry blossoms around them all...
And fate flips another page~ 🌸📖💘🦊
30. **The Crown's Interruption**
Just as the moment hangs in delicate balance—warm, strange, and quietly electric—
> "Good afternoon, brother Alan~!"
The moment is shattered, and both Ajan and Luciana jerk away from each other like magnets.
Luciana coughs—
Ajan adjusts his collar with deliberate nonchalance—
And Alan, finally finding his voice, barks:
> "What the hell is going on here?! Ajan! What are you—"
32. **Brotherly Interruption**
Just as Alan begins to scold, another voice cuts through the garden air—sharp, stern, and *very* unamused.
> "**LUCIANA.**"
All heads turn.
There he is—
**Philip Crain**, heir to the Crain dukedom, tall and imposing in royal-blue coat and gloves, storming down the path like a thundercloud with perfect posture~
His eyes lock onto one thing:
His *12-year-old sister*, face still flushed... hair slightly mussed from Ajan's hand... that suspiciously *contented* expression like she'd just been fed warm milk~
And worse?
The **fourth prince's fingers were still near her head.**
Philip strides forward—face darkening with each step.
> "What," he says slowly, voice low enough to make birds nervous:
> "In the name of all sacred court etiquette... was that?!"
Luciana scrambles up instantly—no more purring now~
She bows stiffly:
> "B-Brother! I can explain—I wasn't—I didn't mean to—"
Ajan smirks—not helping at all—and casually brushes his fingers together like dusting off innocence:
> "She just likes my company."
Philip whirls on him:
> "You were *petting her!* Like a housecat!"
Odette giggles into her teacup.
Raphael mutters:
> "...And people say I'm dramatic." 🖤
Alan throws up his hands:
>
"NO ONE LISTENS TO ME IN THIS FAMILY!"
But Philip ignores them all—he grabs Luciana's wrist (gently but firmly), already turning toward home.
>
"We're leaving."
To Ajan?
One final glare:
>
"No more touching what doesn't belong to you."
As Luciana is dragged away—
Her wide eyes find Ajan's for one fleeting second...
And though she says nothing?
Her tail flicks once under her skirt...
Not in fear...
But promise~ 🐾🌕
And somewhere beneath his fox-like smile?
Ajan makes a quiet vow of his own...
Vol. 3 will be worth every forbidden page~ 💘📖✨
33. **The Third Prince**
As Luciana is dragged off by her brother, the third prince appears around the corner like a shadow~
He pauses for a moment—taking in the scene—before stepping forward with one eyebrow arched.
Odette smiles and waves.
Alan sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Ajan smirks wryly.
Raphael tilts his head.
And Jake says:
> "Well. *That* was interesting."
34. **Sarcastic Crown Prince**
Alan throws his hands up again, voice dripping with dramatic irony:
> "Oh, wonderful! Now even *Jake* gets to witness the Crain family scandal~"
He glares at Ajan—then Raphael—then Odette for good measure.
> "One of you writes secret love poems at midnight. The other tries to seduce a twelve-year-old girl with *head pats.* And her?!"
He points dramatically at Odette:
> "She's just sitting there like this is normal tea-time!"
Jake watches him blankly for a beat.
Then turns to Raphael:
> "...Has he been drinking rose-scented ink again?"
Raphael sighs:
>
"Every morning since spring."
Ajan finally speaks, smoothing his coat like nothing happened:
> "I don't know what the issue is. I was being kind."
Philip's voice still echoes in his head: *"No touching what doesn't belong to you."*
...Cute~ 🦊
He smirks.
*Challenge accepted.*
Meanwhile—
Odette sips her tea, utterly serene:
> "I think it was sweet."
Jake blinks at her. Then back at Ajan.
Then slowly—
A knowing smile spreads across his face.
The only one who says nothing?
Is the wind...
And the cherry petals drifting down...
Like pages turning on a story no one saw coming~ 🌸📖✨
35. **The Crain Estate**
Luciana walks through the manor with her brother, feeling like a prisoner in her own home.
Servants pass by with polite nods—none of them daring to speak. Philip walks in silence with a dark expression for some time, until they reach the study, the door closes behind them, and he *finally* wheels around:
> "What the hell were you thinking?! You can't just allow a man to *touch* you that way! You have an *image* to maintain! A reputation to uphold—"
36. **A New Luciana**
Luciana lowers her head—fingers gently twisting the fabric of her skirt.
Her voice is quiet, but clear.
> "I'm... sorry, brother."
Philip stops mid-reprimand.
Blinking.
Because—
This isn't the same girl who used to scream that Crown Prince Alan was *"her soulmate!"*
The one who threw teacups at servants who dared suggest Odette was prettier.
The bratty little sister obsessed with status and royal attention...
No.
This Luciana stands still. Calm. Composed.
Even... *regretful?*
He narrows his eyes—suspicious:
> "...You're not going to argue?"
She shakes her head once—softly:
> "No."
A pause. Then quieter:
> "I know how it looked... inappropriate."
Philip stares at her—the fire in him flickering, unsure whether to rage or worry~
Because something's changed.
And he doesn't like not knowing what it is~ 🖤
Finally?
He sighs, rubbing his temple:
> "...Then at least tell me why you let him do it."
Luciana lifts her gaze just slightly—
Enough for a sliver of moonlight in her eyes...
And in that moment?
She almost sounds *tired.*
Not childish.
Not spoiled~
Just... aware~
> "...Because..."
A whisper beneath breath:
**"For once... someone saw me."** 🌙🐾💔
Silence fills the study~
Philip doesn't understand those words—not yet~
But deep inside?
Something stirs.
An heir's duty falters before a sister's quiet pain~
And as he watches Luciana retreat into silence,
One thought lingers:
_Who are you now... little sister?_ 💫📖✨
37. **The Heir's Dilemma**
There are a thousand things Philip should say now.
About reputation, propriety, and everything a future duke's sister should know.
Things he used to shout daily before, when Luciana would pout and scream.
But something in her eyes—that flicker of moonlight—stops him.
And instead?
He says nothing.
Philip simply nods once.
> "Go to your room."
38. **Loneliness**
Luciana doesn't argue.
She doesn't huff or stamp her feet or ask for a snack.
She merely nods, bows slightly, and walks out of the room with her head held high.
Philip watches her leave—a flicker of concern crossing his features.
Because this?
This isn't his sister who once threw tea at a servant for saying Crown Prince Alan looked more handsome than Ajan.
This isn't a little sister he recognizes anymore~
And it scares him.
39. **A Brother's Thought**
Philip stands alone in the quiet study—fingers resting on the back of Luciana's empty chair.
He doesn't *hate* the change.
No.
In fact... he might even prefer it?
The tantrums were exhausting. The delusions about Alan? Pathetic. The obsession with power and titles? Unbecoming of a Crain~
But this?
Her silence... her calm... that strange, sad dignity in her voice...
It felt like she'd finally *grown up.*
Like she'd seen something beyond herself.
And yet—
He frowns at the door where she disappeared:
> "But since when do you care what people *see*?" he murmurs into the empty air~
Then, after a beat—
Softly:
> "...And since when did Ajan Crane become someone worth purring for?"
A pause.
Then Philip shakes his head, muttering to himself as he turns back to his desk:
> "Fox bastard..."
But there's no real anger in it.
Just reluctant acceptance~ 🖤
Outside, dusk settles over the estate...
And behind closed doors?
Luciana sits at her window—staring at the distant palace spires~
One hand curls gently against her cheek...
Where Ajan's fingers had briefly lingered~
Moonlight pours in.
Silent.
Waiting~ 🌙📖🐾✨