𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐀

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 25

Flora's heart fluttered like a delicate butterfly as she descended the grand staircase, her fingers tapping nervously against the ornate railing. The chandeliers above cast a warm glow, illuminating the opulence of the ballroom. The air was thick with anticipation, and every eye turned toward her.

Her gown, a masterpiece of silk and lace, clung to her curves like a lover's embrace. The color—a deep midnight blue—accentuated her porcelain skin and set off her fiery hair. Diamonds adorned her neck, catching the light and scattering it like stardust. Her eyes, a shade of green that mirrored the forest after a summer rain, held a hint of mischief.

As Flora stepped into the grand hall, the room fell silent. Whispers ceased, and breaths were held. The guests, bedecked in their finest attire, stared in awe. She was more than beautiful; she was ethereal—a vision that transcended mortal boundaries.

The orchestra, caught off guard, stumbled over their notes. The waltz,Flora's heart raced as she approached the regal couple—the King and Queen. Their presence was imposing, their eyes assessing. The Queen, her gown a cascade of sapphires, stepped forward and enveloped Flora in a warm embrace. "You look **beautiful**, my dear," she whispered, her voice like the rustle of silk.

Flora's cheeks flushed, and she curtsied, her fingers trembling against the delicate lace of her gown. The King, his silver beard glinting in the candlelight, offered a gentle smile. "Indeed," he said, "a vision that rivals the moon itself."

But then, as if scripted by fate, the grand doors swung open, revealing a figure that stole Flora's breath away. Prince Atlas stood there, his presence commanding attention. His eyes, the color of stormy seas, locked onto hers. He was handsome, a chiseled jaw and unruly dark hair framing his face.

And Then his eyes met hers, he winked at her. Flora's cheek flushed once more seeing her fiance.
The room held its breath. The orchestra faltered, the notes hanging in the air like unspoken promises. Flora's gaze never wavered from the prince. He stepped forward, his boots echoing on the marble floor. The Queen's face still had a warm smile, and the King's expression tightened a little bit but still his eyes had a warm.
Prince Atlas bowed at his parents then his gaze went to flora.

"Flora," Prince Atlas said, his voice a velvet caress, "you've bewitched us all." His hand extended, and Flora placed hers in it, feeling the warmth of his touch. "May I have this dance?"

She nodded, her pulse racing. As they swirled into the waltz, the world blurred. The Queen's smile held secrets,But it was Prince Atlas who held her captive—the way he moved, the way he looked at her as if she were the only star in his night sky.

And then, as they twirled, Flora caught sight of the engagement ring on her finger—the promise she had made to him. He is now her fiance after two days, her husband his name etched in her heart. But still she felt bad, afterall she is just a mere villager but he is a Crown prince. She felt a little sad.
Prince Atlas tightened his grip, pulling her closer. "Forget the world," he murmured, his lips brushing her ear. "You're mine no matter what"

And so they did—two souls entwined in a ballroom of secrets. The chandeliers flickered, casting shadows on the walls. The guests watched, their whispers lost in the music. Flora's heart fluttered in desire.

As dawn approached, the grand hall transformed once more. Flora stood between two worlds—the one she knew and the one she longed for. The sun peeked through the stained glass, illuminating her torn heart.

But for now, she danced, her steps echoing the rhythm of her heart, torn between a prince and a promise. once graceful, now seemed clumsy in comparison to Flora's elegance. The dukes and duchesses, captains of industry, and diplomats—all were rendered speechless.

And then, as if the universe conspired to honor her arrival, the moon peeked through the ballroom's towering windows. Its silver rays kissed her skin, turning her into a celestial being. Flora glided across the marble floor, her steps light and deliberate. The hem of her gown whispered secrets to the polished surface, and the room exhaled.

Princess Victoria, her eyes aflame with jealousy, watched from the shadows. The grand hall buzzed with merriment, but her heart was a tempest. Flora, the interloper, had stolen the prince's attention—the very prince Victoria had set her sights on.

As Flora twirled in Prince Atlas's arms, Victoria's fingers clenched into fists. Her gown, a deep crimson, seemed to bleed anger. She had been groomed for this moment, her destiny entwined with the prince's. But now, Flora stood in her path—a rival, a threat.

The devilish smirk that curved Victoria's lips held promises of vengeance. She would not be outdone. As the waltz continued, she slipped away, her steps silent on the marble floor. Her chamber awaited—a sanctuary where plots were hatched and secrets whispered.

Inside, the candles flickered, casting eerie shadows. Victoria paced, her mind a whirlwind. She would ensure Flora's downfall. Perhaps a whispered rumor? Or a stolen letter? Victoria's cunning knew no bounds.

Prince Atlas was hers by birthright. His kisses, his whispered confessions—they belonged to her alone. Flora, with her ethereal beauty, would learn the cost of stealing a prince's heart.

Victoria's reflection in the mirror revealed a predator. Her eyes glinted like shards of ice. She adjusted the dagger hidden beneath her skirts—a relic from a darker time. Tonight, it would find its purpose.

As dawn approached, Victoria emerged from her chamber, her resolve unyielding. The grand hall still pulsed with music, oblivious to the storm brewing. Flora danced, her laughter echoing. But Victoria had other plans.

She cornered the palace guard, her voice low and venomous. "Ensure Prince Atlas receives an urgent summons," she ordered. "A matter of utmost importance."

And so, as the sun painted the stained glass, Prince Atlas stepped away from Flora. His brow furrowed, sensing the shift in fate. Victoria approached, her smile sweet as poison.

"Forgive the interruption," she said, her eyes locking onto Flora's. "Duty calls."

Prince Atlas followed, leaving Flora bewildered. Victoria's smirk widened. She had won this round. The prince would be hers once more.

But as she led him down the corridor, Victoria glanced back. Flora stood alone, her eyes searching. And for a fleeting moment, Victoria wondered if she had unleashed a force beyond her control—a tempest named Flora.