A prince cursed to turn into stone by day falls for a gardener tending the magical roses in his castle grounds. Together, they seek the key to breaking the curse before it's too late
Prince Alistair stood in the garden of his castle, his gaze fixed on the horizon, where the first rays of the morning sun began to stretch across the sky. He could feel it already-the cold tightening in his limbs, creeping up his spine like a silent thief. The warmth of his human form would soon fade, replaced by the stillness of stone.
It had become his routine, this slow, inevitable transformation. The curse that bound him to the stone form every morning had not been kind. There had been no warning, no mercy. One day he had simply woken, and the sun had not only burned away the night but his very freedom as well. By day, he was nothing more than a statue, a monument of stone standing rigidly in the palace courtyard. But by night, when the moon rose high in the sky, he was restored to his human shape-alive, aware, but only for a few fleeting hours before the curse claimed him again.
His fingers twitched, but the stone creeping up his skin held them stiff, unwilling to move. He looked down at the stone veins spreading across his hand, the transformation slowly, inexorably taking hold. He could hear the distant hum of the castle, the hustle and bustle of his kingdom continuing as if nothing were wrong. But it wasn't the same for him. His life had been paused in an eternal struggle between moments of life and stone, his heart cursed to love and be loved by none.
His eyes flicked toward the garden, where the roses-magical roses, or so the old legends claimed-grew wild and unkempt. Their petals shimmered faintly in the early morning light, their fragrance rich with the promise of something beyond the mundane, something that had long intrigued him.
A figure moved between the rosebushes-a gardener, he noticed, working diligently amidst the flowers, trimming and tending to the plants. She wore no crown or jewels, no silk gown like the ladies of his court. Her clothes were simple-earthy tones of brown and green, a stark contrast to the gleaming castle walls behind her. But there was something captivating about her movements, something graceful in the way she bent to the earth, as though she belonged more to the roses than the castle.
It was only when the sun began to rise higher, casting deeper shadows across the stone courtyard, that the transformation began to take hold of him fully. The last vestige of his human warmth slipped away, and he felt himself stiffen, his body locking in place as if frozen in time.
Alistair knew that if he did not leave the garden soon, the curse would claim him completely, turning him into an unmoving statue for the rest of the day. But something about the gardener's presence kept him rooted to the spot. Perhaps it was the way she worked so tirelessly, lost in the rhythm of tending the roses. Or perhaps it was the unspoken connection he felt, a pull that had been there since she had first arrived at the castle weeks ago.
Her name, he knew, was Elara. She had been hired by the king to maintain the enchanted garden that had been a part of the castle grounds for centuries. The garden was more than just a place of beauty-it was said that the roses held strange and powerful magic, and some even whispered that they were the key to unlocking long-lost secrets of the world.
Elara was a mystery. While the rest of the court gossiped about her, questioning her origins and her purpose, she remained quiet, focused only on her work. Her gentle hands caressed the petals with a tenderness that seemed at odds with the hard labor she performed, yet she never faltered, never seemed to tire.
Alistair's heart sank as he watched her, knowing he couldn't stay much longer. The moment the sun crested fully over the horizon, he would turn to stone, unable to move, to speak, to feel. It was a fate that had imprisoned him for years, and there seemed to be no way out.
But something changed that morning. Just as the last of the warmth drained from his body, leaving him cold and unmoving, Elara looked up. Her eyes met his for the briefest of moments, and for the first time in weeks, Alistair felt something stir within him-a flicker of recognition. Her gaze lingered on him longer than expected, her brow furrowing in confusion as if she, too, felt the strange pull between them.
The moment was short-lived. The sun crested high enough that the curse took full effect. Alistair could feel his body lock, the stone replacing flesh, his breath no longer able to draw. His vision blurred as he stood motionless, unable to do anything but watch as Elara's form slowly disappeared from his view.
The hours dragged by. He stood in the garden, no longer a man, but a figure of cold marble. The world passed around him-nobles strolling by, birds chirping, the sounds of the kingdom continuing as they always did. But for him, time had ceased to exist. He was neither alive nor dead, caught in the endless loop of his curse.
When the sun finally began to set, a chill in the air signaling the night's approach, the transformation reversed. His body began to soften, the stone receding as warmth returned to his limbs. He inhaled deeply, his chest expanding as his lungs filled with air. He was human again.
But Elara was gone.
He had spent the entire day as stone, his thoughts consumed with her-her presence, her gaze. She had noticed him, truly noticed him, for the first time. He couldn't help but wonder what she thought of him now, what she might say when they next met.
For a moment, he allowed himself the small luxury of hope. Perhaps, just perhaps, she was more than just a gardener. Perhaps she was the key to breaking the curse that held him captive in stone.
And if she was, he would find a way to reach her.
In a kingdom where nobles wear enchanted masks that define their roles and status, the protagonist-a commoner with the rare ability to craft living masks-becomes entangled in palace intrigue when they are commissioned to create a mask for a reclusive prince cursed never to see sunlight. As the protagonist works on the mask, they uncover a hidden world of magic, betrayal, and a growing bond with the prince. Their love becomes the key to breaking the curse, but doing so could destabilize the entire kingdom. Together, they must navigate a treacherous path where one wrong move could mean losing not just their love, but their lives.
6 years ago, Lydia suffered a brutal betrayal orchestrated by her own husband and step-sister, who drugged her and framed her. In a twist of fate, she ended up having a one-night stand with a stranger. Don't even remember what he looked like. Later, in the throes of death, she discovered the truth about her mother's death all those years ago. In the blink of an eye, she lost everything. 6 years later, Lydia returned with her genius son, vowing to exact revenge on all her enemies! Little did she know, she encountered an incredibly familiar man at the airport! *** The man was briskly pushing open the door to the restroom, heading to the urinal. Even with such a mundane action, he did it with unparalleled elegance and grace. Lydia, following him in a daze, saw his fierce lower body and suddenly snapped back to reality. She let out a high-pitched scream, instinctively covering her eyes with her hands, her cheeks flushed, and stood there stiffly, unsure of what to do. Lambert furrowed his brows slightly but remained calm as he continued to relieve himself. The sound of water hitting the urinal made Lydia's face even redder. She angrily shouted, "You pervert!" Little did Lydia know that Lambert, seeing her in this state, had a flicker of recognition in his eyes. Memories from many years ago flashed through his mind, and his heart couldn't help but stir. It was her!
In her previous life, Kimberly endured the betrayal of her husband, the cruel machinations of an evil woman, and the endless tyranny of her in-laws. It culminated in the bankruptcy of her family, and ultimately, her death. After being reborn, she resolved to seek retribution against those who had wronged her, and ensure her family's prosperity. To her shock, the most unattainable man from her past suddenly set his sights on her. "You may have overlooked me before, but I shall capture your heart this time around."
To the public, she was the CEO's executive secretary. Behind closed doors, she was the wife he never officially acknowledged. Jenessa was elated when she learned that she was pregnant. But that joy was replaced with dread as her husband, Ryan, showered his affections on his first love. With a heavy heart, she chose to set him free and leave. When they met again, Ryan's attention was caught by Jenessa's protruding belly. "Whose child are you carrying?!" he demanded. But she only scoffed. "It's none of your business, my dear ex-husband!"
Due to the plight of her family, Phoebe had no choice but to embark on the path of selling herself. In an accident, she had a tangled night with Alexander. Everything began to derail, and even if she fled to the ends of the earth, she would still be found by him and entangled... *** Phoebe screamed in frustration, "What do you want from me?" What was this supposed to be? He raised an eyebrow wickedly. "What do I want? You'll find out soon enough." With that, he hoisted her up and carried her back into the office. The door slammed shut with a kick, and he cleared the desk with a sweep of his arm before laying her down on it, his body pinning hers in place, completely trapping her in his grasp. Every cell in his body was telling him he wanted her. He wanted to claim her again. This time, there would be no escape for her-he wouldn't let her slip away. Never again. If he had suffered for five years, then this woman wouldn't get off easily either!
Janice, the long-forgotten legitimate heiress, made her way back to her family, pouring her heart into winning their hearts. Yet, she had to relinquish her very identity, her academic credentials, and her creative works to her foster sister. In return for her sacrifices, she found no warmth, only deeper neglect. Resolute, Janice vowed to cut off all emotional bonds. Transformed, she now stood as a master of martial arts, adept in eight languages, an esteemed medical expert, and a celebrated designer. With newfound resolve, she declared, "From this day forward, no one in this family shall cross me."
There was only one man in Raegan's heart, and it was Mitchel. In the second year of her marriage to him, she got pregnant. Raegan's joy knew no bounds. But before she could break the news to her husband, he served her divorce papers because he wanted to marry his first love. After an accident, Raegan lay in the pool of her own blood and called out to Mitchel for help. Unfortunately, he left with his first love in his arms. Raegan escaped death by the whiskers. Afterward, she decided to get her life back on track. Her name was everywhere years later. Mitchel became very uncomfortable. For some reason, he began to miss her. His heart ached when he saw her all smiles with another man. He crashed her wedding and fell to his knees while she was at the altar. With bloodshot eyes, he queried, "I thought you said your love for me is unbreakable? How come you are getting married to someone else? Come back to me!"