Wine

They hid their love. Under the cover of night, amid the blue of roses and silvery frost, they met where the walls of the royal gardens could no longer hear a whisper. She in a delicate dress adorned with delicate patterns of light, he in a dark cloak with silver strands of hair that seemed plucked from the moon itself. Their fingers intertwined as if every touch were both a promise and a sentence: too bright to show, too quiet for anyone to understand.

They couldn't be together. He was the prince of an elven kingdom named Vino, she was a human princess. The centuries-old feud between their peoples left the lovers with no chance of a future together.

When the night guard passed by, love hid behind shawls and cloaks, carefully folded, to be in its place until the next meeting. And in this secret world, where even flowers seemed to keep secrets, their love blossomed—quiet, strong, and ineffable, like blue roses in the moonlight.

Today, they met at their usual spot and shared a tender, sensitive kiss, unaware of the presence of a third party. A servant watched them from around the corner and, refusing to be persuaded, immediately reported the news to the princess's father. She was immediately locked in her chambers and told that she would marry the king of a neighboring kingdom. The princess wept and begged, for the king was nearly fifty years old, and she was only eighteen.

One night, there was a gentle knock on the tower window. The princess was startled, but curiosity got the better of her. As soon as she opened the shutters, her beloved Vino nimbly climbed into her chambers.