last love

Everyone knew Sir Aelric as the kingdom’s bravest knight.

He stood unmoving at the palace gates, armor polished, sword steady, heart silent.

Everyone thought his loyalty belonged to the crown.

But his loyalty belonged to her....❤️‍🩹

Princess Elowen had grown up watching him from behind stone balconies and silk curtains.

While others bowed to her title, Aelric never looked at her crown—

he looked at her like she was just a girl trying to breathe inside a golden cage.

They spoke a little at first.

A glance while passing in the corridor.

A quiet “Are you well, my lady?” spoken like a secret.

Slowly, those small moments became the only parts of the day they both lived for.

At night, Elowen would whisper her worries to the moon.

Below her window, Aelric stood guard, pretending not to listen—

pretending his heart wasn’t breaking with every word she spoke about duty, marriage, and a future that did not include him.

He was a knight...❤️‍🩹

She was a princess.🙂‍↔️

Love was a line neither of them was meant to cross.

Yet they did.

One rainy evening, Elowen met him in the old rose garden, where broken statues hid broken promises.

“I wish,” she said softly, “that I had met you before I was born royal.”

Aelric fell to one knee—not in duty, but in defeat.

“If I were anyone else,” he whispered, “I would steal you away from this place.”

Tears slipped down her cheeks as she touched his face, ungloved, unafraid.

“And if I were anyone else,” she replied, “I would go with you.”

But wishes are cruel things.

They show you heaven and then remind you where you belong.

Days later, the announcement came—

the princess was to marry a foreign prince for peace.

On the morning she left, Aelric stood in the courtyard, armor heavier than ever before.

Elowen passed him in a carriage of white and gold.

Their eyes met.

No words.

No goodbye.

Just love—unspoken, unfinished, eternal.

Years later, people would still see the knight at the palace gates, older now, quieter.

And sometimes, when the wind passed through the roses,

they swore they could hear a princess’s laughter

and a knight’s heart breaking all over again.

Years passed, and Sir Aelric died the way he lived—

silent, loyal, and with a heart that never learned to forget.

When his sword was laid beside his grave, the roses in the palace garden bloomed out of season.

Some said it was only a coincidence.

Some said love never truly dies.

It only waits.

He was reborn in a world without crowns or armor.

Aelric returned as Aren, a quiet boy with strange dreams—

dreams of stone castles, moonlit balconies, and a girl whose face he could never forget.

Whenever he passed old gardens, his chest ached for reasons he could not name.

Far away, she was reborn too.

Princess Elowen returned as Elara, a girl who hated gold jewelry and royal stories,

yet felt tears in her eyes whenever she heard tales of knights and lost kingdoms.

She often dreamed of a man standing beneath her window, protecting her from a world long gone.

Fate, patient as ever, brought them together.

They met on a rainy afternoon—

not in a palace, but in a quiet library where time moved slowly.

Their eyes met.

And the world stopped.

Aren felt it first—

the familiar ache, the recognition without memory.

Elara’s heart whispered a name she had never learned.

They spoke, awkwardly at first.

Then easily.

Then endlessly.

Love found them again—but this time, there were no rules carved in stone.

No crowns.

No vows made for kingdoms instead of hearts.

Yet sadness lingered, like a shadow from another life.

One evening, as rain tapped softly against the windows, Elara said,

“Do you ever feel like we’ve loved each other before… and lost?”

Aren swallowed hard.

“Every day,” he replied.

That night, their dreams returned—

the garden, the roses, the carriage, the unspoken goodbye.

They remembered.

He was the knight.

She was the princess.

And this time—

fate bowed to them.

Aren took her hand, not as a protector sworn to duty,

but as a man choosing love.

“Whatever we were before,” he said, voice trembling,

“let us finish it properly this time.”

Elara smiled through tears—the same smile that once broke a knight’s heart.

“Yes,” she whispered. “In every life.”

And somewhere, in a place where time no longer mattered,

a sword finally rested,

a crown lost its weight,

and two souls—after centuries of longing—

found peace.

.........................

In their first life, the kingdom believed its greatest threat came from outside its walls.

They were wrong.

Lord Vaelor, the royal advisor, was a man of calm smiles and dangerous patience.

He desired not power—but control.

And Princess Elowen was the one thing he could never possess.

When he realized her heart belonged to Sir Aelric, something twisted inside him.

“A knight,” Vaelor scoffed softly, watching them from the shadows.

“Love beneath her station.”

It was Vaelor who whispered into the king’s ear.

Vaelor who arranged the political marriage.

Vaelor who ensured the knight would never rise high enough to challenge fate.

And when Aelric begged to be reassigned—to leave before his heart destroyed him—

Vaelor sent him instead to the bloodiest border war.

Aelric returned alive…

but Elowen was already gone.

Married.

Taken.

Lost.

Vaelor stood beside the palace window that day, smiling as the knight walked away in silence.

“You were never meant to win,” he murmured.

“Love is for those who hold power.”

Aelric died years later, his heart still bound to a princess he never touched.

But Vaelor was not finished.

Rebirth Does Not Forget

In the next life, Aelric was reborn as Aren.

Elowen as Elara.

And Vaelor?

He returned as Valen, a man who carried no memories—

only an unexplainable hatred the moment he saw them together.

From the first meeting, Valen felt it.

“They don’t belong together,” he thought, watching Aren and Elara laugh.

The feeling was irrational.

Violent.

Ancient.

Valen inserted himself into Elara’s life—

a charming friend, a protective presence, always whispering doubts.

“He’s too quiet.”

“He doesn’t understand you like I do.”

“Some loves are meant to fail.”

Elara began to feel the same pressure she couldn’t name.

The same invisible cage.

And then the dreams came back.

The knight.

The princess.

The garden.

The betrayal.

Aren remembered first.

“You tried to destroy us once,” he said quietly to Valen one evening, eyes steady.

“You failed.”

Valen’s head split with pain—

and memory flooded in.

The palace.

The power.

The loss.

Rage consumed him.

“If I can’t have her,” Valen snarled, “then no lifetime will.”

He tried to tear them apart again—lies, manipulation, one final cruel choice.

But this time, the knight did not kneel.

Aren stood between Elara and fate itself.

“You took our silence,” he said.

“You took our goodbye.

You don’t get this life.”

Love—chosen freely, fiercely—broke the cycle.

Valen collapsed, screaming as centuries of obsession burned away.

A man who lived to control love was finally left alone by it.

At Last, Peace

Aren and Elara walked away together, hand in hand.

Not as knight and princess.

Not as reborn souls running from fate.

But as two people who survived it.

And somewhere beyond time, the roses bloomed without sorrow.

The sword rested.

The crown faded.

Love, at last, won.......❄️

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