As the two young women retreat from the fragrant enclave of the rose garden, a mix of exhilaration and whispered giggles accompanies them. The early sun, now bold in its ascent, casts a golden glow upon their faces, mirroring the joy of conspiracy and newfound attraction.
“Oh, Addy!” Saraphina exclaims, unable to contain the giddiness swirling within her. “Your plan was deliciously wicked and utterly perfect. I must confess I am thoroughly enchanted by our gardener, James.”
Addy's eyes twinkle with both pride and complicity. “I thought you might find him… agreeable, my lady,” she replies with an impish tilt of her head.
Saraphina clasps her hands to her heart, as if trying to quell the fluttering within. “Agreeable is far too weak a word, dear friend. His eyes... they’re like the deepest wells of the clearest waters. And his hair!” she sighs dreamily. “It shines as though spun from the sun’s own rays.”
“And did you see the way he presented your glove?” Addy joins in the fervor, grinning broadly. “As if he were a gallant knight returning a token to his fair maiden. Though, I have to wonder if he enjoyed the touch of your hand as much as recovering the 'lost' item.”
Saraphina’s cheeks flush with a rosy hue, the memory of their fleeting contact igniting a warm glow within her. “Oh, you are incorrigible, Addy!” she teases. “But now that you mention it, there was a moment, a spark I felt when our hands met. A spark that I believe he felt, too.”
Addy nods, her expression one of mock solemnity that belies her years. “A spark can ignite a blaze, princess. Who knows what fires may burn, given the kindling of stolen glances amongst the roses.”
The princess’s laughter rings like delicate chimes in the morning air. “Indeed. And it is a blaze that I find myself curiously unafraid to stoke. All thanks to you, Addy—you, who are younger by mere years, but wise beyond measure in the art of the heart.”
Addy swirls in a playful curtsy, her youth shining through the self-possessed mask she often wears. “I live to serve,” she declares with a grin. “Even if that service is to the whims of the heart rather than the call of duty.”
They continue their walk back to the castle, hearts light and spirits soaring, the seeds of a tender story planted within them. Through the solidity of stone and the whispers of court, the bond they share—a melding of duty, friendship, and shared secrets—grows ever stronger, while the fresh memory of bright eyes and sunlit hair fuels whispered conversations and daydreams yet to come.
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