From the entrance, a trail of rose petals stretched across the floor, weaving a path toward the bedchamber.
Their crimson hue glowed faintly under the soft golden lamplight, while a subtle fragrance—sweet, calming, and intoxicating—hung in the air.
The chamber itself had been transformed; not bright, not dark, but cast in a warm light that stirred a tenderness in his chest.
Kiev froze. His crimson eyes swept the scene, taking in the astonishment. Never before had he been greeted with such deliberate care and romantic decor. Whoever had arranged this clearly intended to lead him forward… toward her.
His heart pounded as he followed the path, each step careful, as though crossing into uncharted territory. At the bedroom door, he lifted his hand and rapped gently against the polished wood.
"Elis?"
"Come in."
He grasped the handle, turned it, and the door yielded easily beneath his hand. Slowly, he stepped inside.
There, upon the four-posted bed, sat Elis.
