Chapter One – The Garden of Silver Dawn
The sun had barely risen over the kingdom of Elarion, painting the sky in molten gold and soft violet. Birds stirred in the high branches of the royal gardens, their songs trembling over fountains and marble statues, yet none of their voices were as enchanting as hers.
Princess Seralinde stood beneath the silver-leafed oaks, her fingers brushing against the petals of a rare blue rose, the emblem of her family. Her gown shimmered like morning dew, and the wind carried strands of her hair across her pale, delicate face. She did not notice the prince approaching, not yet, for he was careful to tread where shadows hid the sound of his boots.
Prince Kaelen had traveled far that spring, visiting distant cities on his father's command, yet nothing in his world had prepared him for this moment. His heart, so accustomed to the rigid codes of diplomacy and battle strategy, skipped in a way he had never known.
He stopped at the edge of the garden path, watching her. She was reading from a small, gilded book, her lips moving silently as if whispering secrets only the flowers could hear. The sight was so breathtaking that for a heartbeat, the world seemed to vanish — only her existed.
Finally, Kaelen stepped forward, his presence making a soft crunch among the fallen petals. The princess looked up, her eyes wide and luminous, as if she had been waiting for him all her life.
"You must be Prince Kaelen," she said, her voice like a silver bell in the quiet morning. "I have heard of you… though I did not know I would meet you in the garden of dawn."
Kaelen bowed, feeling the weight of every word he wished he could say. "And I, Princess Seralinde, have heard of you as well," he replied. "I did not know the tales had spoken the truth — that beauty could outshine the sun itself."
A delicate laugh escaped her, and it was a sound that made the air shimmer. "Flattery, my prince, will get you nowhere. Though," she said, tilting her head, "perhaps you do not wish to flatter me at all."
"I do not," Kaelen said with sincerity. "I only wish to know you."
For a long moment, the wind rustled through the silver leaves, carrying with it the scent of roses and the faint promise of something neither could yet name. Kaelen felt a stirring in his chest — a sense of destiny, as if the threads of their lives had been weaving toward this singular meeting for years.
Then, a shadow fell across the garden. Not of clouds, but of something darker, something that whispered of power and malice. The prince instinctively moved closer to the princess, though neither spoke the thought aloud. A chill had brushed the back of their necks, the first hint of the storm that was to come.
Seralinde held her hand out, almost reflexively, and Kaelen took it. Their fingers intertwined, a small but profound connection.
"Whatever comes," Kaelen whispered, "I will protect you."
The princess's gaze met his, and she smiled with a knowing calm. "I will hold you to that, Prince Kaelen," she said, almost as if they both understood — though neither knew the full weight of the words — that fate was already in motion.
Above them, the sun broke free from the horizon, spilling gold and violet light across the garden. In that moment, the world seemed infinite, and their story — tragic, beautiful, and inevitable — had just begun.