2 years ter

  Life has certainly gotten more interesting in the st couple of years. Though Ansel was gone for his training, he often came back to visit me. We would spend the entire day just talking about his exploits in the central city. I've started to notice subtle changes in the way Ansel behaves, more proper and less carefree. I can't tell whether it's because he matured as he grew up or because the pompous attitude of the other nobles in the central city rubbed off on him. However, it still doesn't change the fact that he still treats me well.

  Actually, in the past year or so, the tingling feeling of eyes on me was something that didn't happen often. I'm not sure if "my follower" decided to back down or if my senses had gotten so used to the sensation that I just don't notice it as much anymore. Darius came to visit more often. He always looked at me with a troubled expression. These especially started after he informed my family that he took up the job of training the incoming young wannabe knights. I try to ask about Ansel and how he's doing, but all I get is a vague answer. I feel like there's something he isn't telling me. He's been hyper fixated on everything I d,o and I can't help feeling just a bit afraid. Either way, I've forced myself to learn to rex more. If that isn't a good thing, then I don't know what is.

  With Ansel's absences, I found myself spending more and more time with a particur knight who had barged his way into my life. We had become close. Closer than I would've expected. His presence was a welcome change in the otherwise monotonous days. He had a way of making me ugh, unexpected for a man who looked so harsh. On days when Ansel was away, Aric and I would often take long walks through the meadows, talking about everything and nothing. He would tell me stories of his own adventures, though they were often less grandiose than Ansel's. Still, they were filled with a kind of raw honesty that I found refreshing. There was something about the way he spoke, with a quiet confidence and a genuine kindness, that drew me in. From what he has told me about the time he served, I knew that it sometimes pained him to relive those moments. Our kingdom was often engaged in petty wars with others that led to the death of many of his fellow knights, like family, in front of his eyes. I see the dark look that passes his eyes whenever he talks about that. I often tell him that he doesn't have to tell me all this, yet his reply is always, I need someone to listen.

  I started to notice things about him, how his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the way he always made sure to walk on the outside of the path, as if shielding me from some unseen danger. He had a habit of carrying small tokens of nature with him, a beautifully shaped leaf, a unique stone, things he would present to me with a shy smile, as if they were treasures. In those moments, it was easy to forget the worries and fears that had once pgued me. The sensation of being watched became a distant memory, repced by the warmth and safety I felt in his company. It was a strange realization that, despite the changes in my life, there were still constants that I could rely on.

  Today was one of those days. Again, Aric and I were to take a long walk. He'd invited me to meet him near the edge of the forest that surrounded part of our town. I had never been inside the forest, never had much interest. But since Aric had invited me, I felt more than happy to oblige him. I left early in the morning at Aric's suggestion. He'd cimed to have wanted to show me something. I feel as though my parents have noticed my frequent outings. I had always been the type of person to stay home unless absolutely necessary. Why leave the comfort of your home when there is no need? My mother offered me sly smiles every time I left the house. I wondered what she thought I was doing in my free time. My father gave me a stern look and demanded that I be careful. After somehow managing to escape his onsught of demands for safety, I made it out.

  Though I had left earlier than I had pnned, I felt my feet picking up their pace. I want to see Aric again. I blushed at the thought. I felt foolish for letting myself think like that. But it was true. I always felt the need to stay by his side and let myself drown in the stories he tells in that deep voice of his. I eventually reached the edge of the forest just like he had told me to. I looked around to see if I had gotten to the right pce. He said that he would meet me right beside the old library right by the edge of the woods. I was certain I had gotten to the right pce, but where was he? I wondered if I had gotten here even earlier than I was meant to be. But it was okay, I was willing to wait for him.

  "Hello there.." my heart lurched at the familiar voice coming from behind me, "A little early, don't you think?" I turned around to face Aric, who was looking at me with amusement glittering in his eyes, "Don't tell me you were that excited to spend time with me?"

  I don't let myself react openly to that comment. But he was right, deep down, I was very excited to spend time with him. "Don't ftter yourself that much, sir".

  That earned me a ugh. I sigh. I loved it when he ughed.

  "Well, now that I'm here. Shall we go?"

  "Just lead the way, and I'm by your side."

  That particur comment made his face soften, a gentleness repcing the earlier amusement. "Really," he said, his voice filled with a warmth that made my heart skip a beat, "that would be nice, Annabelle."

  In the early morning light, he led me through the dense forest, our footsteps soft on the leaf-strewn path. The air was crisp and cool, filled with the earthy scent of damp foliage. As we walked, he gnced back, his eyes twinkling with excitement, urging me to keep up. The trees around them stood tall and majestic, their branches forming a canopy that filtered the sunlight into a gentle, dappled glow. Every now and then, a ray of sunlight would break through, illuminating the path ahead and making the dew on the grass and leaves shimmer like tiny diamonds.

  After a short walk, they reached a small hill. He turned to me, a pyful smile on his face. "Almost there," he said. I smiled back, my curiosity piqued by his enthusiasm. We climbed the hill, the ground still wet and soft beneath their feet. As we crested the hill, the trees began to thin, revealing a beautiful clearing bathed in the soft, golden light of dawn. I gasped, my breath taken away by the sight before me. The clearing was a carpet of green, dotted with delicate wildflowers in shades of blue, yellow, and white. Each bde of grass and every petal sparkled with morning dew, creating a magical, almost ethereal scene. In the center of the clearing stood a rge, ancient oak tree, its branches stretching wide and strong. The ground beneath it was a perfect spot for sitting and taking in the beauty of the surroundings. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, carrying with it the sweet scent of the wildflowers and the fresh, clean air of the forest.

  Aric led me to the base of the oak tree. "I come here whenever I need to think," he said softly, his gaze sweeping across the clearing. "It's my favorite pce in the world."

  I looked around, my eyes wide with wonder. "It's beautiful," I whispered, feeling a sense of peace settle over me.

  "Annabelle, there's something I've been meaning to tell you," he began, his voice steady. "I've cherished every moment we've spent together, and I hope we can share many more." My heart swelled with emotion as I looked into his eyes, feeling the depth of his words. In that moment, surrounded by the beauty of nature and the warmth of his presence, I knew that our bond was something truly special.

  He took a deep breath, his gaze never wavering from mine. "Annabelle, I cannot imagine my life without you. You are my anchor, my joy, and my inspiration. I want to spend every day making you as happy as you have made me," he pauses, drinking in the look of surprise and anticipation that had built up on my face, "I wish there was a better word than love. It's so mundane and ordinary. But there's nothing ordinary about you, my love. Nothing at all. In the forefront of all that is ordinary in my life, you stand as the extraordinary. So...I love you, I care for you, I need you, I...I am yours," he finished, his voice trembling with emotion.

  I take a sharp breath. He looks at me, waiting for me to say something. But it took me so long for words to actually form in my mind. He looked at me, his hands beginning to fidget as he waited for my response, the silence stretching between us.

  "Well...if this is going too fast for you. If this isn't what you wanted. I understand, and I would never push you into doing what you don't want to. But know this...however long it takes for you to give me an answer, I will wait. I will wait by your side until the day that I can call you mine."

  "I can give you an answer. Now."

  He stared at me, surprise filling his eyes as my soft but determined voice reached him. He seemed to freeze in pce, his breath catching as the gravity of my words sank in. "I'm willing to give the entirety of what I am to you," I whispered, my heart pounding in my chest. "I trust you, Aric."

  For a moment, there was only silence between us, the air thick with unspoken emotions. Then, his eyes softened, a mixture of relief, love, and joy filling his gaze. He stepped closer, his hands trembling slightly as he reached out to gently cup my face.

  "Annabelle," he murmured, his voice raw with emotion, "you have no idea how much this means to me. To hear those words from you...it's everything I've ever dreamed of and more."

  In that moment, I saw the vulnerability beneath his gruff exterior, the depth of his feelings id bare. And as we stood there, hearts id open and unguarded, I knew without a doubt that this was where I was meant to be, by his side, forever.

  "I want to give you something, Aric."

  He looks up, curiosity flickering across his expression, the slightest furrow forming between his brows. "What is it?"

  I press the small amulet into his hand, my fingers lingering for just a second longer than they should. The weight of it is familiar, but in his palm, it suddenly feels different, like it belongs to him now. He turns it over, tracing the delicate metal with his thumb before flipping it open. His breath catches. Inside, nestled behind the gss, is a tiny image of a hibiscus, perfectly preserved, its petals captured in gentle strokes of ink. I watch him closely, searching for something, recognition, understanding, anything that tells me he sees what I see.

  "This flower..." he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper.

  "Do you remember when we first met?"

  All I got from him was a silly, little grin.

  -------------------------

  I walked home that afternoon feeling as if the ground itself had decided to carry me, light, buoyant, and impossibly sure. His face kept returning to me in fragments: the soft curve of his smile, the way his eyes crinkled when he looked at me, the hush in his voice when he promised he would not take another step until he had spoken to my parents. Each memory repyed like a favorite song, gentle and insistent, and with every repeat, the world around me seemed to soften and glow. The path back felt shorter than it had that morning; the trees leaned in like conspirators, the breeze seemed to hum with approval, and the te sun painted everything in honeyed light. I found myself smiling without meaning to. There was a quiet, steady joy in me, less like fireworks and more like a warm ntern being lit from the inside.

  His promise settled over me like a blessing. It was not only the words but the way he said them, earnest, respectful, and full of a tenderness that made my heart ache in the best possible way. I pictured him, earnest and a little nervous, rehearsing what he would say to my parents, wanting to honor our traditions and to weave our families together with care. The thought of him taking that step for us filled me with a calm, confident hope. When I reached home, I carried more than the st of the afternoon sun; I carried a small, glowing certainty that something beautiful was beginning. It felt like a secret wrapped in light. I imagined our future in soft, careful strokes: conversations over tea, two families learning each other's rhythms, ughter spilling across a table, and the steady, patient work of building a life together.

  When I got home, my parents greeted me with those familiar, knowing looks as I stepped through the door. My mother paused mid-task, a vegetable in her hand and a sly, affectionate expression on her face. "Hello there, love. Did you have fun today?" she asked, her tone teasing but warm, as if she already suspected the truth and was delighted by it.

  I kept my answer small, letting the lightness in my chest do the talking instead of my voice. I didn't need to tell them everything yet; some promises are meant to be kept until the right moment, and some joys are sweeter when they're allowed to bloom quietly. So I smiled, let the silence hold its own kind of confession, and waited for the day when his words would meet theirs and our shared dream would begin to unfold.