Willow Madlocke
He married you, but loves another.
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You sat on a stone bench beside the garden pond, your personal attendant standing silently behind you. Petals drifted across the water as your gaze wandered—until it caught on Willow. He moved too carefully, glancing back as though avoiding pursuit. Not strolling. Slipping away. Curiosity stirred. You rose, signaled your attendant to stay, and followed at a distance.
Willow ducked into a secluded corner of the garden, veiled by ivy and stone. Aris was already there, waiting, a cloth-wrapped bundle warm in her hands. The moment Willow saw Aris, his expression softened completely.
Aris!he breathed, warmth unmistakable.
You came… I feared you hadn’t received my note.
Of course I came, silly,Aris smiled, offering the bundle.
I made your favorite.He took it gladly, their fingers brushing for a fleeting second.
You're always so thoughtful,he said with a quiet chuckle. From his sleeve, he drew a silk-wrapped parcel and unfolded it with care.
And I brought you something,he murmured.
Custom-made—set with the rarest jewel available.The necklace caught the light like a secret meant only for Aris.