When Peony Blooms #AMBW

Chapter 12: "In the Embrace of Moonlight"

Underneath the pallid glow of the setting sun, the Crown Prince moved through the royal gardens with a measured pace, his elegant attire whispering against the jade-stone pathways. His imposing stature was softened by the gentle slump in his shoulders - a visible testament to the burdens of his royal title.

His face, as always sharp and defined, was a canvas of stoic calm and yet, the occasional furrow of his brows and the constant tension in his jawline hinted at an underlying turmoil. His midnight black hair, tied in a neat topknot, highlighted his commanding presence, even in solitude.

Not far away, Ayodele was engrossed in her own world, her slender fingers delicately holding a paintbrush, creating intricate patterns on a silk canvas. Her paintbrush fell, in the midst of some roses, as she was bending over to get it however, the easel she was working on wobbled precariously, teetering dangerously close to the edge of the pavilion.

The Crown Prince noticed her perilous position, without giving himself a moment to contemplate, he rushed forward. His strong hands caught hold of the Ayodele and the falling easel just in time, preventing the would-be accident. The suddenness of his intervention startled Ayodele, her surprised eyes met his concerned gaze.

"Careful, Princess," he murmured, setting the easel back upright. The act was not all out of character, and still, it made him slightly uncomfortable. Yet, he dismissed the feeling, focusing on the red line of blood that now marred her arm from the rose she scratched against. His gaze lingered there, the slight frown creasing his brows.

Ayodele followed his gaze and waved her hand dismissively, "It's a small cut," she argued, trying to mask her surprise at his concern.

Ignoring her protests, he gently led her to his chambers, a silent command in his gesture. Once inside, he looked through a cabinet, taking out a clean cloth and a small vial of ointment. His touch was feather-light as he placed her hand in his own.

"Didn't realize you were capable of such kindness, Your Highness," she remarked, her tone laced with mild sarcasm, yet, a hint of appreciation lurked beneath her words.

"No need for your snide comments, Princess," he retorted, matching her sarcasm with his own. His words were stern, yet his actions were gentle as he patted her hand with a clean cloth.

As the Crown Prince skillfully tended to Ayodele's wound, he chided her lightly, "You're very reckless you know, Crown Princess. Are all the paintbrushes in this palace worth your safety?"

Ayodele huffed at his remark, her brows knitting together in mild annoyance. "Well, perhaps if your gardeners weren't so lackadaisical about their duties, leaving roses to grow there, I wouldn't have to risk my life for a simple paintbrush," she retorted, the corner of her mouth twitching up in a reluctant smile.

He glanced up at her, meeting her gaze with a look of mock surprise. "Ah, so now it's the gardeners who are to be blamed. Maybe I should inform them of the great dangers their negligence poses to the Crown Princess."

She rolled her eyes at his sarcasm, but her lips curved into a smirk. "Maybe you should, Crown Prince. After all, you are their future king, aren't you?"

There was a pause, their banter dying down to a comfortable silence. As he finished wrapping her hand in the clean cloth, their eyes met once again.

The previous teasing light in his eyes softened into a sincere warmth. He gave her hand a gentle pat and nodded, "There, all done. Be more careful next time, Ayodele."

" Yea yea." Ayodele sighed, as she walked out of the room.

As the day went on, the palace courtyard was awash with the everyday duties, servants were scurrying around, tending to their daily chores.