The days passed, and the looming shadow of Prince Alistair grew darker and more oppressive with each step Elara took within the palace walls. What had once been subtle—his obsession—now felt like an encroaching storm. Every glance, every accidental brush of their arms as they passed, carried a weight she couldn't ignore. She had tried to avoid him, as her parents had urged, but he was relentless.
The palace had become a cage. The once-beautiful gardens and grand halls were now suffocating, no longer a place of wonder but of dread. And the prince was the worst of it. His presence, even when unseen, clung to her like a shadow.
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