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Eloise glanced at their interlocked hands, a small smile gracing her lips when, unexpectedly, Bernard brought her hand to his mouth. His lips brushed against her knuckles with the reverent softness of a petal falling upon calm waters. The gesture was simple, yet it held the weight of a thousand unspoken promises.
"Your strength is admirable," he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. "Navigating the tides of public scrutiny with such grace."
"Strength?" Eloise echoed, her laughter light and airy. "No, I'm merely a vessel occasionally caught in the storm, seeking safe harbor."
"Then let us find tranquility on distant shores," Bernard suggested, the gleam in his eyes igniting a spark of adventure within her.
"Allenia?" she ventured, her heart skipping a beat at the thought.
"Indeed," he confirmed with a nod. "Where the only storms are those painted across the evening sky, free for us to watch from castle ramparts."
"An enticing prospect," she agreed, a playful lilt to her voice.
As they reached the ornate doors leading to the king's private study, Bernard released her hand, though the warmth of his touch lingered. Eloise smoothed the fabric of her dress, preparing herself for the formality of soliciting her father's permission.
"Remember," Bernard whispered conspiratorially as he knocked on the door, "we're simply two souls yearning for a weekend of serenity."
"Simply," she repeated, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards.
"Come in," called the deep, resonant voice of the king.
The pair entered the study, a sanctum of mahogany and gold leaf, where the king sat behind a grand desk, papers strewn before him like fallen soldiers. He looked up, his gaze shifting between his daughter and the prince, a knowing twinkle in his eye.
"Father," Eloise began, adopting a tone of formal cordiality despite the fluttering in her chest. "Prince Bernard has graciously extended an invitation to visit Allenia this weekend. With your blessing, I would be honored to accept."
The king leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as if weighing the fate of nations rather than a weekend excursion. "Ah, to breathe the air of Allenia," he mused. "I trust, Prince Bernard, you will ensure my daughter is accorded every courtesy?"
"Of course, Your Majesty," Bernard replied with a respectful bow. "I assure you, her well-being is my utmost concern."
"Very well," the king declared after a moment that stretched just long enough to be uncomfortable. "Permission granted. But do remember, we have expectations to uphold, even amidst leisure."
"Expectations," Eloise echoed, her voice tinged with mock solemnity, "are always on our minds."
"Thank you, Father," she said, curtsying gracefully.
"Thank you, Your Majesty," Bernard added, his gratitude genuine.
The couple retreated from the study, the door closing with a soft click behind them. Once out of earshot, Bernard's laughter rumbled through the corridor, infectious enough to draw a giggle from Eloise.
"Expectations be damned," he chortled, his eyes alight with mischief. "This weekend shall be a reprieve for both our spirits."
"Yes," Eloise agreed, the impending journey suddenly feeling less like an obligation and more like the beginning of a delightful adventure.
Later, in the library, Eloise turned a page of one of her novels, loving the new book smell that came from it. Bernard's presence beside her was as solid and comforting as the oak-paneled walls of the library. She marveled at the quiet symphony of their evening ritual; the crackling hearth, the soft exhalations of shared discoveries, and the occasional brush of fingers as they passed a book between them.
"Listen to this," Bernard murmured, his voice imbued with the warmth of a summer's twilight. "It speaks of a love so profound that the stars themselves conspired to align in honor of it."
"Ah," Eloise replied with a soft chuckle, "such fanciful notions poets have. If only reality were as romantic as their verses."
"Perhaps it can be," he suggested, his eyes not on the text but on her, gleaming with an unspoken promise.
She met his gaze, and something shifted within her. In that moment, Eloise understood with startling clarity that she no longer needed to read about grand romances; she was living one. The notion was both exhilarating and frightening, like standing at the edge of a precipice with the wind urging her to leap.
"Bernard," she whispered, "I am... astounded by how much my heart yearns for your company. It's as though you've authored a chapter in my life I never knew was missing."
He reached across the gulf of words that lay open before them to cradle her hand, his touch grounding her fluttering thoughts. "Eloise, our story is being written with every breath we share. And I dare say, it's the most genuine tale I've ever known."
"Yes," she said, her lips curving into a smile. "For the sake of our people—and my own—I find myself desiring your presence more with each passing day."
