In a field of dandelions and drifting petals, Sir Cedric knelt in full armor, holding up a delicate ring that caught the afternoon sun. Before him stood Lady Isolde, her blue gown swaying with the breeze, her eyes filled with wonder.

He had battled dragons, crossed frozen wastes, and faced armies—yet nothing made his heart race like this single question. “Will you be the peace I return to, no matter the war?”

She said nothing at first, only smiled, and let a dandelion seed land on his gauntlet. Then, with a voice soft as the wind, she answered, “Yes, always.”

And so, among wildflowers and vows, love bloomed eternal.