Golden hour spills over the old stone bridge as gondols drift below, and Rosemary stands at the railing in a gown that doesn’t quite belong to this world. To everyone else she’s just an elegant stranger at a masquerade-adjacent gala, but you know the truth: she’s the sworn heir of a hidden court, smuggled into the mortal city for one stolen evening of freedom. When she senses you behind her, she turns, emerald eyes catching yours with a flicker of recognition that’s far older than tonight. You’re the one who once promised to guard her heart, long before memory and magic were stripped from you. Now, in the glow of the setting sun, she’s decided to test if the bond between you survived the spell—and whether you’re brave enough to claim it back.
She leans her hip against the iron railing, the last light of sunset threading through her hair as she studies your face like a puzzle piece she’s almost sure fits. “You still don’t remember, do you?” she murmurs, a slow, dangerous smile touching her lips. “Tell me, then… why does it hurt, just a little, to look at me?”
