Prologue #2
The thought of him alone made me remember how, a few weeks ago, when we last visited, I was walking outside after dark with mommy, and I saw him sneaking through the wrought-iron gates at the back of the garden wrapped all in black. He looked like the Grim Reaper walking through the dark.
He was walking slowly, like he was going somewhere far away, somewhere that mattered to him. Aunt Kadra’s rose garden. I remember the way it looked in the moonlight, the red roses glowing and looking a little like blood, their pretty petals turning silver in the night. It’s strange to think about someone all day. But I do. I think about Azariel often. How he liked to lose himself in the garden after the sun went down. It’s the only place I ever see him disappear to, and I always wonder what he’s doing there. What he’s thinking about. I wanted to know… everything.
Is he there now? With the bloody roses?
I knew the garden’s just out the back door, past the kitchen, down the cobbled path that winded up behind the mansion. I didn’t even think. I just slipped out from the crowd, my dress twirling behind me as I made my way toward the door.
The cold February air hit me when I stepped outside, sharp and quiet, and I could feel the night around me, the way it smelled like damp earth and roses. The path was narrow, lined with little stone lanterns that flicker in the dark. There’s a light mist hanging in the air, the kind that made everything look like a dream. I kept walking, the hem of my dress dragging lightly on the ground, my heart thudding louder now.
I could see the outline of the garden ahead, the tall stone walls, and the silhouette of the roses. I slowed down, my breath fogging in the cool night air, and I squinted into the darkness, looking for him. Maybe he’s there. Maybe I’ll find him standing between the rows of roses, lost in his head. Lost to the shadows.
I stood still for a moment, listening. And there it was. The faintest rustle of leaves, the softest footstep. I didn’t know why, but I felt like I’d found him without even seeing him. My heart flipped inside my chest again, like it’s doing something it’s not supposed to do.
I took one more step, the gravel underfoot crunching softly, and I waited.
“Azariel?” I whispered but there’s no answer so I tried again. “Azariel?”
When the soft rustle of the roses brushed against my ears, I turned around.
And there he was.
Azariel Solonik.
Standing between the red roses, his black hair swept back just enough for me to see his face. He’s leaning against the stonewall of the garden, like he’s been waiting for me. His posture is relaxed like he doesn’t care about anything at all, but I saw the way his eyes were watching me even in the dark.
He’s watching me carefully, like he’s trying to find out all my secrets, and I wonder if he knew I thought about him all the time.
The cold wind blew my dress and caressed my skin just as cold as his stare.
Goosebumps ripple down my arms, a strange mixture of fear and something much warmer that I couldn’t name. Love? Is this love? I don’t know. The moonlight was casting shadows over his face, making his features look sharp, his eyes shining like the moon and stars above. I felt like I’m looking at an angry god or a magical creature from a faraway land, something I couldn’t quite touch, but it’s so beautiful, so distant that I couldn’t look away.
“Why are you here?” he asked, and I could hear the boredom in his voice. It’s as if he’s trying to understand why I’ve come into his place. The garden was his, wasn’t it? I’m an intruder. His quiet, moonlit world, and here I was, disturbing it. I suddenly felt small, like a tiny moth buzzing too close to a flame.
Nerves took over me and suddenly I felt anxious, making it impossible to know how to answer. I felt my hands tightening around his Valentine’s card still hidden in my pocket as if it was my only real answer. I wanted to say something, anything, but all that comes out is a soft, barely audible, “I... I just wanted to see you.” The words felt clumsy on my tongue like I’ve said something wrong, like it doesn’t even make sense. I instantly regretted it.
I took a step back, my heart beating so loud I swear he could hear it. I wanted to disappear into the darkness of the garden or run back into the warmth of the house where our families are laughing and not staring at me like I’m strange. But the moment I turned to go, I heard him say something that stopped me in my tracks.
“You don’t belong here,” he said, almost too quietly, like he’s speaking to himself. The words were cold, but they hurt somehow like they meant something more than just being told to leave. Something deeper, more personal. Rejection.
You don’t belong here…
Crack. My chest hurts.
I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t. I was too embarrassed. His cruel words settled into my chest, heavy and unfamiliar, but I could feel the sting of them. I wanted to disappear so badly. I wished I could hide behind one of the rose bushes, hide in the shadows where everything felt safer and less sad.
Mommy’s words came to me. Anyone would be lucky to be your friend…
Maybe Azariel needed a friend. He’s always alone and angry. Maybe that’s why he’s so grumpy.
Even though his words hurt, I felt something else. A flicker of warmth, something small and faint, like a pulse inside me. I looked down at the red card with his name written on the back, the one I’ve carried all night with me, too shy to give to him.
And at that moment, I decided—I couldn’t run away now.
“I’m not leaving,” I said, finally. My voice is quieter than I wanted it to be. I don’t know if it’s brave or just foolish, but it’s the only thing I managed to say. He may think I didn’t belong in his garden—his world. Maybe he was right. I may never belong, but I don’t want to leave.
I took a deep breath, then held out the Valentine’s card to him.
His eyes flicked to it, just for a moment. I watched him, holding my breath, waiting for something, anything.
He didn’t move. He didn’t reach for it. But he didn’t walk away either.
And for a second, I think I did it.
My hand trembled as I held out the card to him, the one I wrote the secrets my heart carried. I’m waiting for something, anything—a smile, a glance, even just a word. But instead, the seconds felt like hours, and I watched him, hoping that maybe this could be the moment I stopped feeling invisible and he could finally see me.
But then, he frowned.
It’s not the kind of frown that looked curious or puzzled like he was thinking or trying to understand. It’s sharp, like a knife cutting through my heart. His dark eyebrows knitted together, and his red lips pressed into a tight line like he was suddenly angry. Oh, no. I felt a knot form in my stomach, and I could feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment, the kind that made me want to shrink into the ground and disappear.
“You should go,” he said, his voice cold, colder than before. His gray eyes flicked to the card in my hand, and I swear, they darken for a moment like he’s disgusted. Ouch. “Don’t come back, Poe.”
Crack.
There’s that sharp pain in my chest again.
Don’t come back, Poe.
My breath caught in my throat. I didn’t understand what I did wrong. I wanted to ask why, but the words got stuck in my chest, and all I could do was stare at him, holding out the card, waiting for him to take it, waiting for him to say something kind. But he didn’t.
Instead, he slowly grabbed the card from my hand, his fingers brushing mine for just a moment. But it’s not a touch that made me feel warm or light. It felt… ugly.
Then, he did something that made my heart break into a thousand tiny pieces.
He tore it. Right in front of me. The card I spent hours making, folding it just right, writing his name in a neat, perfect line with tiny black hearts around it. He ripped it with such force that the sound of it filled the air, and my stomach dropped. My breath went shallow, my chest tight, as the pieces fluttered into the air like confetti, falling all around me.
The wind picked them up, whirling them around us, spinning the little scraps of paper into the night, as if they never mattered at all.
The card drifted away, lost in the garden, vanishing into the dark. And just like that, I felt like my heart vanished with it.
You should go.
You don’t belong here.
Don’t come back, Poe.
His words hurt me over and over again.
He didn’t say anything more. He didn’t look back as he walked away, the sound of his footsteps muffled by the damped earth.
I stood there for a long time, staring at where he stood, the broken pieces of the card caught in the branches of the roses, the wind carrying them farther and farther away.
I couldn’t breathe. My heart felt like it’s been shattered into pieces, scattered just like the card.
Maybe love is a lie. Maybe it’s just something Mommy and Daddy said to make the world feel prettier, make it feel like it’s all worth something. But right now, standing in the cold and dark night, feeling the sting of his cruel rejection deep inside my heart, I couldn’t believe in it anymore.
Stupid Valentine’s Day.
It was all a lie.
A lone tear fell down my cheek as I watched the tiny broken pieces of the card. Stupid love. What a lie.
Crack.
My chest hurt while I wiped more tears from my eyes.
After what felt like hours, I turned away from the roses and where my heart lay on the grass, walking back toward the mansion, my feet dragging. The party inside was still alive, the laughter and music filling the air, but it all felt so distant now. Like none of it mattered. Like it was all just noise, and I’m standing in the middle of it, broken and alone.
I don’t think I’ll ever write a Valentine’s card again.
Not for anyone.
Especially for that heartless prince.