The rain began before dawn that day, a quiet drizzle that wrapped the De Gaspariz estate in mist. The gardens were heavy with the scent of wet soil and blooming dahlias, their scarlet and gold heads bowing under the weight of water. Inside the manor, everything was still, except for the faint hum of servants beginning their morning chores.
But beyond the marble steps, under the gray sky, a child ran.
Seraphina was only eight, barefoot, pale dress soaked at the hem, hair like spun light streaming behind her as she darted through the garden paths. She was laughing, a soft, breathless sound that rose and vanished into the fog. No one saw her sneak out; no one knew she'd traded her piano lessons for freedom, if only for a few moments.
She twirled among the dahlias, small fingers brushing against wet petals. She loved their colors, deep red, like warmth she could hold. She didn't know why they comforted her, only that they did.
The air smelled of rain and something faintly sweet. Then her foot slipped on a slick patch of stone, and the world tilted.
The fall was quick, a startled gasp, a flash of white skirt, the sharp sting of fear.
But before her head hit the marble, an arm caught her.
She blinked through the blur of tears. A boy stood before her, older than her a bit. Maybe, 14? Too young, yet he carried himself differently, as if the world itself bent around his stillness. His hair was crimson, glowing faintly even in the dull morning light, and his eyes were golden, bright just like hers, and deep seemed to hold the reflection of the entire sky.
He looked down at her scraped knees, his expression calm, almost tender. "You shouldn't run on wet paths," he said softly.
"B-But, why? I love the rain so much!" She was wiping her tears.
The teenager young man glares at me. "Stop being so stubborn."
Seraphina sniffed. "You sound like my father."
"Then you must not like him very much?" The boy replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Her lip trembled, and for a heartbeat he thought she might cry. Instead, she frowned, a stubborn, delicate thing that looked too serious on a child's face. "I just wanted to play."
He crouched before her, his voice lowering. "Then play. But take care not to fall again."
He placed his palm gently over her knee, and light shimmered faintly beneath his fingers. The small wound vanished, leaving only smooth, pale skin. Seraphina's eyes widened.
"How did you-"
"Magic." he said, his tone warm but distant.
"Are you a wizard?"
His expression became like got insulted. "Something like that."
He plucked a single dahlia from the bush beside them and handed it to her. "Keep this. It'll remind you not to run too fast."
She took it carefully, studying the flower with fascination. "It's red. Like your hair."
"My hair is crimson, not red."
She nodded. "What is crimson?"
Is this kid really stupid? He didn't smile, just blank expression. "A color."
"It's a brave color!"
His golden eyes softened, almost wistful. "Mmh. Brave."
Then, before she could ask his name, a servant's shout echoed faintly in the distance. Seraphina turned her head for a moment and when she looked back, the boy was gone.
"S-Sir..?" Her tears fell, a hint of loneliness again inside her.
The rain kept falling. In her hand, the dahlia gleamed like a drop of sunlight.
Years passed.
The gardens changed with the seasons, but the crimson flowers never left. Seraphina asked the gardeners to plant more dahlias when she turned ten. She said she liked how they didn't bow to the cold, how they bloomed even when the skies were gray. The servants laughed softly, saying she had strange tastes for a noble girl. But she didn't mind. The flowers made her feel safe, as if someone unseen was watching her, guarding her.
She forgot the boy's face as the years went on, but sometimes, when the light hit the water just right, she swore she saw a flash of crimson and gold at the edge of her vision.
Nolan never left.
He watched her from the veils between worlds, from the place where gods walked unseen. He watched her learn to curtsey, to smile politely, to lower her voice whenever her father entered the room.
Duke Caesar de Gaspariz was a man carved from stone. His words were law, his silence a punishment greater than anger. He loved order more than warmth, ambition more than peace. When he looked at Seraphina, he didn't see a child, he saw the future of his house, the name he wanted sung in royal halls.
"Straighten your back, Seraphina," he would say, eyes fixed on her posture rather than her face. "A lady must carry her name with dignity."
"Yes, Father."
"You will accompany me to the palace next week. The Crown Prince must see that you are fit to stand beside him."
"Yes, Father."
Her voice was always even, her face calm. She learned early that tears earned no comfort, that silence pleased him more than excuses.
The estate's marble corridors grew colder as she grew older. Her laughter vanished. The dahlias became her only secret rebellion, bright bursts of red against the white sterility of her world.
Nolan saw the way her smile faded over the years. He watched her pray at night, whispering to a god she didn't believe could hear her. Sometimes, he almost answered but he stopped himself every time.
He was a god, and she was mortal. His touch would curse her more than it could comfort her.
Still, he protected her in ways she would never know. When storms gathered above the manor, he turned the lightning aside. When assassins once crept toward the estate, men paid by rivals to ruin her father, they never reached the gate. The hounds howled that night, but no one saw the crimson shimmer that passed through the mist.
Nolan's interference was forbidden, but he could not help himself. He had saved her once, something in him had bound itself to her soul that day.
He did not understand why. Gods weren't supposed to feel this kind of pull this desperate, aching urge to keep a mortal safe.
But when he thought of her, the little girl who had looked at a dahlia and called it brave, his heart stirred with something that frightened even him.
By sixteen, Seraphina had grown into the kind of beauty that silences rooms. White-golden hair, luminous and soft-curly. Golden eyes that held both gentleness and command. When she entered a hall, people bowed, not because of her father's rank, but because she carried herself like light wrapped in grace.
Yet behind her quiet poise was exhaustion.
She barely slept. Each night she sat before her mirror, brushing her hair slowly, staring at her reflection as if trying to remember the girl who once laughed in the rain. The girl who ran barefoot. The girl who didn't flinch when she fell.
Sometimes, she thought she saw something crimson flicker behind her, a fleeting glint near the window, gone when she turned. It comforted her, though she never understood why.
That same year, she met Maverick.
The Crown Prince of Eldryn.
He was everything a storybook prince should be tall, regal, his hair white as clouds, his sapphire-green eyes calm and brilliant like a sea before a storm. When he looked at her, she felt the weight of his gaze, gentle but commanding.
Duke Caesar's smile that day was sharp enough to cut glass.
"Your Highness," he said, bowing deeply, "may I present my daughter, Lady Seraphina De Gaspariz."
Maverick extended a hand. "Lady Seraphina. It's an honor to meet you."
She took it with practiced grace. "The honor is mine, Your Highness."
They danced that evening. Slow, deliberate, elegant. The chandeliers reflected in the marble floors like stars scattered beneath their feet. Her heart pounded as his hand rested on her waist, but her face remained calm.
"Do you enjoy the gardens, Lady Seraphina?" he asked quietly.
"Yes," she replied. "Especially the dahlias."
"Dahlias?" His lips curved faintly. "Not roses?"
"They're brave flowers," she said softly. "They don't wilt easily, even in the cold."
He smiled at that, his usual cold demeanor changed at her sight. "Brave," he repeated. "I like that."
From the edge of the ballroom, unseen among the shadows cast by candlelight, Nolan watched her. He watched her eyes lower shyly, her lips tremble as if unsure how to smile. She looked so strong yet so fragile it made his chest ache.
He wanted to reach out. He wanted to be the one she smiled at.
But she belonged to another world.
And he belonged to none.
As the months turned to years, the palace grew louder, with gossip, with laughter, with new faces.
Maverick truly loved Seraphina, but Seraphina pushed him away, Seraphina wasn't ready to open up her heart especially from the trauma she gained from her family. Her step-mother and her sister, Novaria.
"Lady Seraphina, please. Stop pushing me away." Tears are on his face right now.
I wanted to reach for him, to tell him that I love him so much. But I wasn't ready yet, I wasn't ready, my heart isn't ready!
"Please, you Highness. I am not like the other ladies you know." A hint of guilt in my voice.
-If you knew me better.. will you still accept me and love me?
"Lady Seraphina, how long are you gonna keep up? Tell me you love me." He reaches for my hands but I pulled away fast.
"Stop it. Stop! I don't love you! Stop making a fool of yourself!" My tears streaming down my face, I was pushing him, but my face is telling all.
"No. No, I love you." He reaches again then I stepped back.
"Stop being foolish, you Highness. We're getting married only for political matters, I am only a tool for you."
"A tool?" He asked me genuinely. "Seraphina, you're not a tool. I will protect you from everything, I promise, please.. don't stop your feelings." He wipes my tears away, gently and softly.
"Stop, you Highness." I pulled myself from his touch. "I don't love you, and I never will." I turned away.
I left him.. on the rain, broken and crying. But that day, I never knew pushing him away will make me regret all of my decisions in life.
Lady Akisha Zeraleth Leonhart arrived at the palace, the daighter of a baron.
Her arrival was like sunlight breaking through a cloudy sky. Sky-blue hair, lavender eyes, a voice that could charm even the hardest hearts. The court adored her instantly. She was gentle while Seraphina was cold, approachable where Seraphina was distant.
Maverick began to smile more when Akisha entered the room.
And Seraphina noticed.
She told herself she didn't care, that the Crown Prince's heart was his own to give. But every time she saw them together, something inside her cracked a little more.
Her father noticed, too.
"Perhaps you should learn from Lady Akisha," he told her once. "She has warmth. The people love warmth."
Seraphina bowed her head. "Yes, Father."
"You must not let her outshine you. Remember your duty."
Duty. Always duty.
No one asked if she was happy.
It was raining and I was curling and hugging myself, I was wet. "If only.. if only I didn't pushed him away.." My tears streaming down my face, my voice was broken.
And Nolan, from his unseen realm, burned with helplessness. He watched her smile for others, watched her pretend she wasn't breaking. He whispered her name into the rain, hoping she would hear. But she never did.
He would rather have been cursed than keep watching her fade, yet all he could do was guard her from the distance the heavens forced upon him.
Because to love her openly would destroy them both.
I reaches for the crown prince's arm, but then he pushed me, not too harsh. "Your highness, I'm sorry.." My tears fell. "Please don't ignore me!"
He looks at me with disgust, lady Akisha was holding his arm tightly. "Don't you dare bother me ever again, Seraphina. You are nothing to me now."
Thank you for reading the prolouge, hope y'all support my story, please stay tuned for the upcoming chapters till the very end.
-Ivelle, your pretty author.