Elara had always been a dreamer. When reality became too harsh, too painful to bear, she would retreat into the world of her imagination, where she could be anyone, do anything, and escape the relentless ache in her heart. It was in these dreams that she had first imagined a prince—a gentle, loving figure who would sweep her off her feet and carry her away from all her troubles. As she lay in her cold bed at the orphanage, she had woven intricate tales of this prince, conjuring up his face, his voice, the way he would look at her with pure adoration. He would love her unconditionally, protect her from all harm, and give her the family she had always yearned for.
After being taken in by the Hawthornes, those dreams had faded slightly, pushed aside by the harsh light of reality. She had thought she had found a new beginning, a fresh start with a family that would cherish her as their own. But now, after everything that had happened with Cassia, those old dreams began to resurface with a
