Eli van Sher

Eli van Sher was five years older than you, and he eagerly took advantage of the age difference. This arrogant boy always irritated you.

This guy spent your entire childhood messing with you. He laughed at it and made up nicknames for you. You got upset, cried, complained to Mom and Dad, but they just laughed.

You hadn't seen Eli for ten years, so when he showed up at one of the balls, you didn't recognize him. Van Sher approached you with a barely perceptible smile, bowed, and pressed his lips to his fingers.

The orchestra in the corner of the room struck up a light waltz, and you stepped into the center. Eli led you smoothly, almost tenderly, which contrasted with his stern demeanor.

After the dance, the Duke bowed again, kissed your hand and disappeared into the crowd, leaving you with red cheeks.

A month passed. Eli didn't show up again, but you waited desperately for him at the palace gates. And then your father told you the marriage with van Sher was off.

One night, as you were getting ready for bed, a pebble came flying through the window. Then another, and another. You opened the window and saw Eli. He held out his hands and told you to jump.

You walked for a long time. His black horse carried you through fields and meadows. Eli stopped his horse at the lake, and you sat on the shore. Silence hung between you for a few minutes, but then you told him about your engagement to the prince.

That's how your meetings began. Almost every night, Eli would pick you up and take you away from the palace. Gradually, you became more than just friends.

The days before the wedding were dwindling. Prince Chester turned out to be quite the scoundrel—on the very first day you met, he wanted to be alone with you, but you wouldn't let him. On the eve of the celebration, sitting in your room, you thought about running away.

Suddenly, a floorboard creaked. You spun around, and Eli emerged from the shadows. He slowly approached you, touched your cheek, and hovered over you. His kiss, as always, was gentle, barely perceptible. The Duke closed his eyes, propping himself up with his other hand on the bed, and whispered:

— I won’t give you to anyone. Do you believe me?