Third Person POV
The morning air was crisp, and the palace garden bloomed with colors that couldn't compare to the confusion stirring in Prince Zachary Levi's chest. He stood at the balcony, staring at the horizon with clenched fists. There was something he needed to do—something he should've done a long time ago.
"Eduardo," he called, straightening his coat.
"Yes, Your Highness?"
"Prepare a carriage. I want to see Lady Natasha."
Eduardo gave a polite bow. "Right away, Your Highness."
Before leaving, Zachary walked to the palace's flower beds and carefully picked three fresh roses—their petals deep crimson, like the truth he had been too late to face. He scribbled something quickly on a small note and tucked it gently between the stems.
Upon arriving at the Thalven estate, the guards and staff immediately bowed in respect. The entrance was quiet, yet Zachary could hear faint laughter from the veranda. He followed the sound until he found Duchess Veronica sipping tea elegantly under the shade of a parasol, while Duke Marco read the morning paper beside her.
"Good morning, Duke, Duchess," Zachary greeted politely, giving a deep bow despite his royal rank. "I've come to request a private audience with your daughter, Natasha."
"Oh? Your Highness, you're up early today," Duchess Veronica said, arching an eyebrow. "She's in the greenhouse again. Honestly, I don't understand what's gotten into her lately… Ever since she mentioned canceling the engagement, she's been acting strangely. I wonder if something happened between you two?"
"Your Highness," added Duke Marco with a sigh. "This cancellation talk… it's causing quite a stir. The whole empire was expecting this union. We've prepared everything. It's a matter of reputation now. I hope you can talk to her—calmly, and with respect."
"Would you like us to call her for you?" Veronica offered, setting down her teacup.
Zachary shook his head. "No need. I'd prefer to speak with her privately, if that's alright."
He found her in the greenhouse. The sunlight filtered through the glass ceiling, casting golden light on the plants—and on her.
Natasha.
Hair tied in a messy bun, sleeves rolled up, forehead damp with sweat, and holding a garden hose, she looked effortlessly beautiful. But the sadness in her eyes when she noticed him? That was what hurt the most.
She turned off the hose and stepped aside, surprise and a tinge of pain flashing in her eyes. "W-What are you doing here?"
"I… I just wanted to give you this," he said, handing her the bouquet of three roses.
She eyed him suspiciously. "What's this?"
There was a note wrapped around the stems. She unfolded it slowly.
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I picked these three
To say sorry to you.
I miss your smile,
I miss us too—
I wish we could go back
To the way we used to do.
For a second, silence hung between them. Zachary tried to read her expression, but Natasha's walls were already halfway up.
"I don't want to cancel the engagement," he said firmly. "And you can't change that."
Her lips trembled. "W-Why are you doing this? I already let you go, Zachary. Why do you still hold on? Haven't I hurt enough?"
Her voice cracked, and he saw the tears she tried to hide.
"Because I realized what I had… what I lost," he whispered. "I was blind, Natasha. You stood by me when I didn't even deserve it. You loved me at my worst—when I was too stubborn, too proud to see it. You stayed, even when I pushed you away. And all I did was take, never give back. I failed you."
He stepped closer, voice trembling.
"I'm sorry. For choosing someone else. For not seeing your worth. For making you feel like you weren't enough when you were always more than enough. I was a fool… but please, if there's even the smallest part of you that still cares—let me fix this."
Natasha's tears finally fell. "And what if it's too late? What if I don't want to go back?"
Zachary's hand reached out, gently, not forcing—just hoping.
"Then I'll chase you," he said. "Like how you once chased after me. Let me be the one to try this time. Let me prove that I can love you… the way you always deserved."
She stood there, frozen. Speechless.
Then she turned her back to him, trembling.
"D-Do whatever you want," she muttered.
He stepped back, understanding the weight of her words.
"Can you… please give me some space?" she added quietly. "I just want to be alone for now."
Zachary looked at her, memorizing the shape of her back, the softness of her voice, the weight of her pain. Then he nodded.
"Alright… thank you for giving me even this much. I promise, next time, I'll treat you better. I'll earn your trust again."
With one final glance, he walked away, roses left behind, but hope blooming quietly in his heart.