Chained to old wounds

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Tsuneo

A playful smile danced across her lips. “True enough,” she conceded. “But can you at least give me. a hint? So long as it’s not another Ari…”

I feigned a gasp, placing a hand over my chest. “Morgan! You wound me. Isn’t one enough excitement for a lifetime?”

Her laugh filled the room, a sound that warmed me more than any physical fire ever could. “Perhaps not,” she admitted, the twinkle in her eyes undeniable. “Alright, keep your secrets. But just know, I expect to be thoroughly impressed.”

With a mock bow, I gestured towards the window. Then let us depart, shall we? Are you ready?”

She tied the belt of the shorter, creamy robe around her waist and nodded.

“Good. My surprise awaits.”

Before she could question further, I extended my hand towards her. A hesitant smile played on her lips as she placed her hand in mine. The warmth of her touch sent a familiar current of energy coursing through me.

With a silent instruction to my dragon, the world around us began to shift. The familiar scent of our chambers faded, replaced by the crisp coolness of the evening air. Looking down, Morgan gasped.

We were no longer standing on the solid floor, but soaring high above the palace grounds. The wind whipped through her hair, tugging at the light fabric of her robe. Below us, the sprawling palace courtyard became a miniature world bathed in the golden light of the setting sun.

A delighted squeal escaped her lips, and I couldn’t help but grin.

“Enjoying the view, Morgan?” I asked, the rumble in my voice a combination of amusement and the satisfaction of seeing her happy.

“This is incredible!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with awe. “I’ve never flown before! It’s… exhilarating! How did you do that?”

‘I’ll take you flying as often as you want.”

Her excitement was contagious, a surge of joy radiating from her that mirrored my own. We

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danced through the air. I felt like my heart would explode hearing the way she laughed. As we soared through the sky, the worries of the day seemed to melt away, replaced by a shared sense of wonder and a burgeoning connection that promised something far more extraordinary.

We dipped and soared through the air, the wind singing a joyful song in our ears. The palace below became a distant memory, replaced by a breathtaking vista of rolling green hills and shimmering rivers. Below us, a canopy of trees shimmered emerald in the fading sunlight.

The exhilaration in my flight was à tangible thing, a rumble in my chest that echoed in my voice. “Hold on tight, Morgan,” I called out, the wind whipping through my fur. “We’re almost there.”

With a graceful descent, I landed softly in a clearing nestled deep within the heart of the forest. Morgan, still catching her breath, took in the scene around her with wide eyes. Unlike the formal gardens of the palace, this one was a riot of untamed beauty. Wildflowers, a kaleidoscope of colors, bloomed everywhere, their sweet fragrance mingling with the earthy scent of pine and damp soil. A crystal–clear pond shimmered in the center, its surface reflecting the last rays of the setting sun.

A pang of sadness flickered across my features for a fleeting moment, a shadow on the joy of seeing her wonder. Then, extending a hand towards her, I spoke softly, “Welcome, Morgan. This was my mother’s garden.”

Understanding bloomed on her face. This wasn’t just a beautiful place; it was a sanctuary, a place overflowing with memories of the woman I loved and missed dearly. My heart ached for a moment, a silent tribute to the mother I held so dear.

Taking my hand, she stepped out cautiously, her gaze falling upon a sight that stole her breath away. Beneath the sprawling branches of an ancient oak, a white linen cloth was spread on the soft grass, a basket overflowing with enticing treats nestled in its center. Goblets gleamed in the fading light, beside a silver platter piled high with colorful fruits.

A genuine smile, warm and radiant, lit up her face. This is… incredible,” she breathed, her voice filled with awe. “A picnic in a secret garden? Tsuneo, you outdid yourself.”

A slight blush crept up my cheeks. “It was nothing, I mumbled, though a hint of pride peeked through in my voice. “I just wanted to show you a special place.”

As she stepped closer to the picnic spread, her hand trailed across the soft fabric of the cloth. “This is perfect,” she said, her voice filled with sincerity. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

–

Our eyes met, and a depth of emotion flickered between us a shared grief for my mother, a growing appreciation for each other, and the promise of something more. The flight, the breathtaking scenery, and the unexpected picnic had woven a spell of pure magic, a connection

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that transcended words.

The

sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in a breathtaking display of colors. We settled down on the soft grass, the silence between us comfortable. Taking a tentative bite of a succulent fruit, Morgan looked up at me, her face bathed in the golden twilight. A hesitant yet hopeful smile. played on her lips.

“So, she began, her voice barely a whisper, “tell me more about your mother.”

Morgan

We settled beneath the sprawling oak, the white linen tablecloth a crisp counterpoint to the vibrant emerald of the grass. The picnic basket, overflowing with goodies, was a tempting sight. Delicate pastries with berries peeking through sat beside savory hand pies and glistening fruit skewers. My stomach rumbled in delight, but the true feast for the senses was the garden itself.

The air buzzed with a symphony of unseen creatures the industrious drone of bees collecting pollen, the sweet melody of a hidden bird’s song. The last rays of the setting sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows that stretched out like inky fingers across the clearing. The dappled light created a mesmerizing mosaic on the ground, a dance of light and darkness playing amongst the wildflowers. It was far more beautiful than any forest back in the human realm..

Tsuneo chuckled softly, a sound that sent a warmth through me. His usual stoic facade was replaced by a wistful expression, a hint of sadness lingering in his eyes.

“This was my mother’s favorite spot,” he began, his voice soft. “She used to spend hours here, just… existing.”

“Existing?” I echoed, intrigued. It wasn’t a word I’d expect from a prince, especially when describing a royal garden.

He smiled, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. “Yes, existing. Away from the pressures of court, away from the weight of expectations. Here, she could just be… Mom, and I think she needed that more than she ever really let on.”

He fell silent for a moment, his gaze drifting towards the vibrant blooms carpeting the ground. “She loved the simple things,” he continued, his voice low and reflective. “The feel of the cool earth beneath her bare feet, the intoxicating scent of a freshly opened rose, the way the wind whispered secrets through the leaves…”

The Dragon King’s Substitute Bride.