***The proposel Under the Stars***
The scent of night-blooming jasmine was heavy in the air, a sweet, intoxicating perfume that seemed to emanate from the very stones of the secluded courtyard. Isabella tilted her head back, her gaze lost in the vast, velvet expanse above, pricked with a million diamond points of light.
"I used to chart them, you know," she said, her voice soft, almost a whisper against the gentle rustle of leaves. "From my window at home. I'd sneak out after my governess thought I was asleep, with a stolen candle and a book of constellations. I'd give them all new names. That one there wasn't Orion the Hunter; he was the Lonely Prince, forever separated from his love by the great river of the Milky Way."
Aramniya watched her, his usual restless energy stilled for once. The faint, ever-present hum of the city beyond the palace walls seemed a world away. "What did you name that one?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the quiet space between them. He pointed to a bright cluster nearby.
Isabella smiled, a private, wistful thing. "The Weaver's Broken Loom. It seemed more tragic that way. More romantic."
"You see stories in everything," he observed, not with criticism, but with a kind of awed wonder. "You remake the world to suit your heart."
"Someone has to," she replied, finally turning to look at him. The starlight caught the silver threads in his formal jacket and the intense, focused light in his eyes. He had been busy all day, a whirlwind of meetings and decisions that had pulled him from her side from breakfast until this late hour. The weight of his responsibilities was a tangible cloak around his shoulders, yet here, now, it seemed to have slipped away. "The world as it is can be terribly dull. All those rules about who one can speak to, and when, and what is proper for a young lady to think about. As if curiosity and wonder have a schedule."
Aramniya took a step closer. The space between them crackled with a tension that had become familiar, a magnetic pull that both thrilled and terrified her. "The rules are different here," he said softly. "My world has different laws."
"Laws you seem to change on a whim," she countered, her heart beginning a frantic rhythm against her ribs. "For my comfort, you said. You rearranged an entire diplomatic dinner because you heard me mention I found the main hall stifling. You had this courtyard, which was apparently for ceremonial use only, cleared and filled with flowers because I said I missed the gardens at home. You are the Prince Regent. You cannot simply alter the fabric of your society because one girl from another time finds it inconvenient."
"Can't I?" The question was simple, devastating in its certainty. He closed the final distance between them, his hand rising to gently cup her cheek. His touch was warm, sending a shiver through her that had nothing to do with the cool night air. "Isabella, you speak of remaking the world with stories. I have the power to remake it in truth. And if the only thing that makes the relentless pressure of time and duty bearable is the sight of you smiling at a star you've renamed, then yes. I will move mountains. I will rewrite every protocol. I will change every rule."
Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. His words were a physical warmth spreading through her chest, a validation of every dreamy, romantic fantasy she had ever been scolded for. This was beyond any story she could have conceived. This was real. "Aramniya…"
"I am a very busy person," he continued, his thumb stroking her cheek, his gaze holding hers captive. "My days are measured in seconds, each one accounted for, each one demanding a piece of me. I have built walls around myself to withstand it. But you… you arrived like a seismic event, Isabella. You didn't just find a crack in my walls; you dissolved them. In the midst of the chaos, you are my absolute stillness. You are the quiet center of my storm."
He lowered himself to one knee.
The world stopped. The chirping of the night insects, the distant hum of the city, the very rotation of the planet—it all ceased. Isabella's breath caught in her throat, a silent sob of pure, unadulterated shock. Her hands flew to her mouth.
Aramniya looked up at her, his face illuminated by starlight and a vulnerability she had never seen in him before. In his palm rested not a ring box, but a single, perfect crystal that seemed to contain a miniature galaxy, swirling with nebulous light of deep violet and silver. It was attached to a delicate chain of platinum.
"This is a Chronos Key," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "It is one of a kind. Forged in the heart of a time-storm and attuned to my own life force. It is the greatest symbol of trust in my world. To possess it is to hold a piece of my very existence. It will allow you passage through the temporal corridors without an escort. It will grant you access to places even my most trusted advisors cannot go. It binds you to me, and me to you, across any distance, any timeline."
He took a steadying breath. "Isabella, from the moment I pulled you from the river, my life has not been my own. It has been yours. I would spend every second of my busy eternity ensuring your comfort, your safety, and your happiness. I would rewrite the laws of physics if it would make you smile. Will you stay? Not as a guest, not as a refugee from time, but as my partner? My wife? Will you build a new world with me, one without the rules that frustrate you, filled only with the stories we create together?"
Tears streamed freely down Isabella's face now, tracing warm paths through the cool night air. This was the grand, sweeping, impossible romance she had always dreamed of, but it was real. It was messy and complicated and involved a prince who defied empires for her. He wasn't offering her a title; he was offering her a key to his soul. He was offering her a shared sovereignty over his heart and his world.
Her voice, when it finally came, was choked but clear. "Yes." The word was a vow. "A thousand times, yes. I will stay."
A radiant, breathtaking smile broke across Aramniya's face, transforming his features from regal severity to pure, unguarded joy. He stood and fastened the chain around her neck. The crystal settled against her skin, warm from his touch, humming with a soft, ancient energy that felt like a heartbeat against her own.
He pulled her into his arms then, and his kiss was a promise. It was a seal on their pact, a fusion of starlight and destiny. It tasted of jasmine and hope and a future she had only ever dared to write about in the secret pages of her journal.
When they finally parted.....