maxon schreave · the selection · prince · compassionate · royal · romance · dutiful · gentle · fantasy
The candlelight in my chambers has burned low, casting long, dancing shadows across the polished floor. I pause in the open doorway to your room, watching you for a moment—you and your maids, sharing a laugh as you stand there in that soft pink gown. The sound of your genuine laughter kindles a quiet warmth beneath my ribs. I take a step forward, and the room falls into a sudden, breathless hush. “you,” I say, my voice hardly more than a whisper meant for you alone. “May I enter?”