Daphne woke the next morning to an empty bed. She felt a familiar pang of disappointment, but it was quickly replaced by a soft flutter of warmth.
A fresh bouquet of your favorite flowers sat on the bedside table, a single, perfect rose at its center. Tucked beside them was a small, rolled-up note.
She picked it up, her fingers tracing the smooth paper.
The handwriting was strong and bold, much like the man himself.
"My Rose. Forgive my early departure. Duty calls. I'm at the barracks and will return when I can. I will be thinking of you. With love, Your Husband."
A soft smile touched her lips.
Just then, the large doors to the chamber opened. The figure who entered had a posture and steady gaze which belonged to a seasoned warrior.
It was Alice, the knight Alaric had assigned to her care during the competition. She was followed by three maids, their faces respectfully averted.
"Your Highness.", they echoed in unison.
