A chance encounter

The crashing waves and crickets singing their melodious tune gave Ysabel pause.

She could feel her heartbeat and pulse in sync, thumping against her warm skin. But the cold, stale air coming from the restless tide cooled off the warmth that spread on her body.

'Dammit,' Ysabel thought bitterly. When she accepted the chance to live again, she wasn't warned about the consequences of such a risky decision.

Images from the memory that had her shaken were the night Hinrik proposed to her. They were young, and Ysabel didn't know any better.

Prince Hinrik was one of the most talked about monarchs among the ladies. Him choosing Ysabel over everyone else vying for his attention was enough for the naive young girl to believe in fairytales coming true and happy endings.

But a repetition of that happening wasn't something Ysabel needed right now.

"He's crazy," Ysabel muttered. "But I'm crazier—ah!"

A firm hand suddenly grabbed Ysabel, pulling her away from the cliff. Ysabel stumbled on her feet and fell perfectly into a man's broad chest and strong arms.

'Hinrik?'

Ysabel thought the young prince had come after her. But when she looked up, the face partly covered by the shadows of the night didn't belong to the same man she was thinking about.

Ysabel broke free from the man's grip as swiftly as she could. She tilted her chin up, saving her pride and pulled her brows together to form a frown while straightening the folds of her dress.

The sea continued to rage from below while the moon hung comfortably above. The stars glimmered, and Ysabel had yet to notice the array of beautiful roses displayed on the walls surrounding the back garden, which faces toward the sea.

"I didn't need your help," Ysabel clarified to the stranger whose handsome face she couldn't seem to place anywhere.

Against the moon's light, Ysabel could see the considerable broad shoulders; his eyes reflected sheer curiosity, and a cosmic smile was displayed on his playful lips as if daring Ysabel to ask him more provocative questions instead of her statement.

"A young lady suddenly running, frantic, and wearing the most gallant dress there is appears before a mere bystander and then doesn't even thank him for the possible demise. Had she stepped a little closer to the edge, the beautiful woman would have become part of the sea, long gone and forgotten and will always be remembered by those who chose to do so."

His husky monotone told Ysabel that this man was perhaps a noble. But she cannot find a name to match the handsome face.

"I don't think you understand," Ysabel replied flatly, trying to hide the quiver and how uncomfortable she was standing before the stranger.

The black suit and single red rose attached to his left breast pocket gave nothing away of which kingdom he represented.

"Ah," the stranger replied, a playful smirk now curved on his lips. He eyed Ysabel, studying her face under the beautiful light of the moon. "You're Princes Sienna of Eyeris."

Ysabel pressed her lips together, placing her hands behind her as she maintained a straight posture.

"And you are?"

The man chuckled, tilting his head to give a polite bow.

"Forgive me," he uttered. "I'm Kian, not a lord and not a prince. Just Kian."

"Kian," Ysabel murmured, experimenting with the sound of his name on her tongue. "If you're not of noble descent, how are you here?"

Kian wrinkled his nose, looking away. He purposely avoided eye contact and pointed at the lone rose bud near the broken wall by the cliff.

"I'm here to admire the famous flowers," he pocketed his hands, quietly walking toward the flower he just pointed at.

Ysabel watched him attentively. She stared at the surroundings and suddenly was in awe of the view.

Vines crawled from the ancient wall that was supposed to bar the roaring tides from sprinkling a bit of the saltwater below.

But a big chunk of that wall was broken and provided a cliff where Ysabel had stood a while ago. She hadn't realized how badly she had wanted to escape from the grand hall.

Along the vines, different colored roses bloomed. Some were mere buds, but the tips of the petals protruded at the end. It promised something magical just like the others of its kind.

Kian carefully plucked out the lone rose close to the cliff. Ysabel noticed that they didn't look like ordinary roses. When a fraction of moonlight came in contact with the rose, it appeared to be sparkling.

"Aren't they lovely?" Kian asked; his dark brown eyes, making Ysabel think of chocolates, didn't leave hers. He was taunting Ysabel to say something.

Recognizing the butterflies in her stomach, Ysabel broke the spellbinding eye contact and stared at the ground.

While she was looking for something to distract her, a ruby pendant glistened, catching her full attention.

Ysabel immediately recalled where she had seen that precious jewel earlier.

Feeling disgusted, she forced her attention to return to Kian while subtly approaching the bushes where the pendant was almost hidden.

"You still haven't told me how someone who isn't a lord nor a prince happened to be here in Bezmun. Are you a friend of Hi—" Ysabel caught herself, clearing her throat, before calling the prince by his name. "Prince Hinrik?"

Her slip-up didn't go unnoticed, though. Kian presented another smirk, letting Ysabel know he had come to some conclusion about her relationship with the prince of Bezmun.

"Let's say I am. Maybe. You know, princess, I'd like to keep you guessing. But humor me, what had you running all the way here in such haste, I wonder?"

Ysabel averted her gaze. She was a mere step away from where the pendant lay. Hiding it from Kian's view, Ysabel pretended to fix the hem of her dress.

When it was safe to assume that Kian suspected nothing, Ysabel held his unwavering gaze. He spoke like a poet, and his countenance was glowing.

The princess knew she wasn't mistaken to claim that Kian was of noble birth. But it seemed he didn't want her to know of it.

'He has his secrets, and I have,' Ysabel mused.

Mimicking the playful smirk that Kian had been showing Ysabel, the latter deftly got hold of the ruby pendant with her shoes.

"I shall return the favor and keep you on your toes, Kian."

The two nobles held each other's gazes, a somewhat comfortable silence passing between them before that quiet was disturbed by a whispered shout from the direction of the palace.

"Sir Kian!"

Kian shifted his attention for a short while. The brief moment allowed Ysabel to pick up the pendant and was standing ramrod straight when the person looking for Kian appeared.

"Sir?" Ysabel murmured. "Are you perhaps a marquess? An earl? But that doesn't matter, does it? I'm alright with the knowledge that my suspicion was right."

Kian faced Ysabel; an amused smile was displayed on the curves of his lips.

"And what is that, may I know?"

"You're of noble birth. But sure, not a lord and not a prince," Ysabel gathered a fistful of her dress, readying to leave as Kian's attendant joined him. "Have a pleasant evening."