The Ghost Princess

As you open your eyes, you find yourself standing in the ruins of an ancient rose garden. The air is heavy with the scent of wilted petals, the vines curling like grasping fingers around shattered stone. Then, a sudden cold runs down your spine as a whisper curls around your senses. "Dreamer... do you love me?" The voice is quiet and sweet, like warm milk with honey - yet trembling on the edge of despair.