"Oh Rose, where are you? The flowery mists only bring me so far..." Octore yearned.

His gaze followed the rain's path, the wind blowing the droplets westward.

Rose was across the village, forbidden to see Octore, he was a prince, she was a peasant.

The church bells rang, it was curfew, Octore bolted downstairs and out the bathroom window.

Rose did the same, but with the attic window at her humble home.

The two met on a hill just out of town, the sunset was most prominent from there.

Shivering, they held onto each other for warmth.

"Octore, we must stay hidden, we can't get caught." Rose sighed solemnly.

Octore kissed her soft reddened cheek, "It'll be alright, they won't find out.

Darkness cast upon the town.

Lights went out, everyone laid for rest.

The two lovers sat on the hill, talking for ages.

Oblivious to the fact that the King was walking toward them, they didn’t know it’d be the last time they’d see each other.

It had been ten months since that day, and Octore glared at his escort as he led him back into the palace. As Rose had been imprisoned in the dungeons, awaiting trial for witchcraft and demonic seduction of a Royal, the King had thought it best that Octore be sent to live with his uncle, the Duke, at a manor house two counties over.

It was Octore’s first day home, and the night of Rose’s trial. He did not hug his father, nor kiss his mother. He simply stole away to his room, and waited.

Rose was far past the point of glaring, or kicking, or screaming. She had learnt that it only made it worse. The dungeons were cold, and her thin clothes did not help. She was fed rations enough to keep her alive, and driven to insanity to the point that she may have believed she was a witch.

And at 7pm, her trial began. It was the first time she had seen Octore since that night.