The kingdom of Soavy awoke beneath a sky brushed with soft hues of dawn—pinks and golds bleeding into endless blue. From her chamber in the towering palace, Princess Seraphina watched the morning light spill over the gilded rooftops and stretch across the lush gardens below. Her wings, pale as moonlight and edged with silver, shimmered faintly in the soft glow. At twenty years old, she carried the weight of angelic grace and royal duty, but also a restless yearning she barely understood.
The palace grounds were alive with the quiet murmur of life waking—a gentle rustle of leaves, the distant song of a lark, the subtle fragrance of jasmine floating through the air. Yet beneath the surface of this serene beauty, Seraphina sensed something waiting, something different.
She slipped away from the bustling corridors, her footsteps light on the stone paths winding through the garden. The flowers seemed to lean toward her as if they recognized the purity she carried. But Seraphina's thoughts were far from peace. Her heart beat to an unfamiliar rhythm, one that spoke of darkness and danger yet promised a strange kind of hope.
And then, just beyond the ancient willow tree, where shadows pooled like ink beneath its twisted branches, she saw him.
A figure, tall and cloaked in midnight, stepped into the light. His eyes—dark as the void yet flickering with a fierce, molten glow—locked with hers. There was a danger in his presence, a whisper of horror that sent a shiver down her spine. But there was also something else. Something impossible.
A connection.
In that moment, the angel princess and the demon stood face to face—two worlds destined to collide, two hearts on the brink of a story neither could yet comprehend.