Rose slowly opened her eyes. The sun had risen, and its rays seeped through the window onto the parted drapes of the four-poster bed. She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the brightness.
Rose stifled a yawn and a stretch. She was still wrapped in the Crown Prince's arms; to do either would require moving.
Her brow furrowed, not because of her position, but because of her dream. It was quite odd and Rose couldn't understand it.
She was in a large field, though she could barely remember how she got there. Grasses grew everywhere, with trees and fruits, and everything was interconnected. Suddenly, a huge wind blew, uprooting the trees and destroying the field. When the wind stopped, there wasn't even a strand of leaf left.
Rose stood in the middle of the barren field, feeling lost and empty, unsure of what to do. The ground cracked at the state of the field, and it was clear it couldn't be salvaged.
