The food in front of me was nothing like last night's. It was colorful, almost too perfect—or maybe it just seemed that way because they were both eating so comfortably.
"Don't look at me like that," I said. "Gabriel made me a blueberry pie."
It was my first time trying it. I picked up the spoon.
"Oh, this is so delicious."
The words escaped before I could stop them. What could I do? How long could I keep suppressing the person inside me?
I ended up eating everything, and honestly, it was better than anything I'd ever had. Completely satisfied, I returned to my room. It was my habit to nap after meals. I usually skipped breakfast, but today's meal had made me unusually happy.
As I lay down, my eyes growing heavy, something stirred in the air. That same scent again—the one Gabriel carried, the one I had noticed so many times before.
He stood before me.
Was this a dream? A hallucination?
He looked at me, but I couldn't lift myself, even though I wanted to. He gently pushed a strand of hair from my face with his fingers. I felt it. Felt his touch. He leaned in and whispered something in my ear—then suddenly, I woke up.
It was a dream.
God, what kind of dream was that?
As I tried to process whether it had really been a dream or something else—his scent still lingered in the air—a knock came at the door.
"Who is it?" I asked, when I should've said "Come in."
A boy's voice answered, "The princess has ordered you to be brought to the garden. She is waiting."
I remembered she had promised to take me for a walk. I got up quickly and composed myself. Patting my warm face, I followed the boy toward the garden.
People working around the house saw me and paused, watching me. Not like the first day—but still, with curious eyes.
I stepped outside.
Ahead, beyond the steps, there was a garden. And a horse stall. Someone stood there in a long robe, their identity hidden.
But it was easy for me to guess. Isabella had said the prince would be waiting. I lifted my dress slightly and walked up the steps toward her.
But I was wrong.
How could I be so stupid? How could I mistake him for a woman?
"Isabella?" I asked hesitantly.
He chuckled and replied, "Mr. Garde, actually."
My expression twisted. "You! What are you doing here?"
He just smiled, as if genuinely happy to see me.
"Isabella said—" I started, but before I could finish, he took my hand, lifted me onto the horse, and sat behind me.
"Young lady," he said, "it's just me."
Then he pulled the reins, and we rode off.
I was so close to him. His scent... it was that scent. The same one. My mind couldn't let it go.
He pulled me into his arms. I'd never been held like that before. Never touched. And yet, I said nothing. I only noticed that when he held me, he took a deep breath, like he'd been holding it in for a long time—like he was the one finally relieved.
"What are we doing here?" I asked.
It was the same forest—where I had fallen, where I had first met Isabella.
"Calm down, young lady," Gabriel smiled. "I brought you for a walk."
He helped me down from the horse, holding me by the waist.
"Mr. Garde, I don't want to walk here. There's nothing in this dreadful place I'd want to see."
I turned to get back on the horse, but he caught my arm and turned me to face him.
"Believe me. There's something here you'll fall in love with."
He said it with such confidence, looking straight into my eyes.
"Fine. Let's see, then."
I didn't know why I gave in. Why did I always give in to him?
He could've killed me. Imprisoned me. Anything. But I followed him—like a fool.
Suddenly, he stopped. I looked at him.
"Show me," I said, expecting to expose his lie. But then—a tree appeared. A door formed in its trunk.
"What the hell is this?" I muttered.
I looked at Gabriel. "Can't anything in your world happen in a normal way?"
I pushed my hair back and tied it up.
Gabriel, watching me, suddenly said, "You look better with your hair tied up, young lady."
My jaw dropped.
"Is mocking me your favorite sport? Especially in front of someone you know isn't like you?"
Was I angry because I couldn't humiliate him? Or because he hadn't really appreciated me?
"Forgive me if you felt that way," he said softly. "That wasn't my intention."
Then, extending his hand, he added, "Ladies first."
That phrase had never sounded so poisonous before.
It used to mean respect.
But right now? It sounded like: Death first.
I was torn. If I went back, my pride would crush me. If I went forward, maybe I'd meet death head-on.
Either way—I had to move.
I looked at Gabriel and made an innocent face, hoping he'd feel sorry for me.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Nothing," I replied sweetly.
But he kept staring at me. Finally, he said, "Stop. I'm going first—it's dark inside."
You can't imagine what that moment felt like.
A wave of happiness washed over me, like I'd just won a massive battle.