Chapter 3
?──── Kallan (Flashback) ────?
The torchlight flickers along the marbled corridor as we dart between the columns, breathless and quiet. Serenya presses herself against the wall, giggling behind her hand as a pair of guards pass just around the corner.
Standing beside her, I turn and whisper in her ear, "You are the worst sneak in the entire palace."
"I am a princess," she whispers, smirking. "I'm not trained for stealth." I roll my eyes because she actually is, in fact, trained for stealth. I trained her.
"You’re also wearing bells," I add, nodding toward the silver bells on her sleeves.
"They're charming."
"They're loud."
She nudges me with her shoulder and slips ahead with her lavender gown trailing behind her. I follow, my leather boots silent on the stone, one hand resting on the pommel of the blade—not out of need, but out of habit.
We pause behind a tall column near the side of the stairwell. Outside, the night beckons us through the open arch. The garden just beyond.
"Ready?" she asks, her violet eyes dancing with challenge.
I grin. "Always."
We bolt, like a blur of pale silk and dark leather under the moon. Laughter spills from us as we slip through the garden hedge, over the low marble wall, and into the shadows of the forest.
Serenya grabs my hand and pulls me forward, breathless with joy. "Come on! It's not far!"
"The last time you said that, we ended up halfway to the border."
But I follow. I will always follow her. Her fingers lace through mine.
When the trees thin and the forest opens to the wide field, I see why she brought me. The meadow stretches out before us, cloaked in wild flowers that shimmer under the moonlight, petals of pale violet, soft gold, and white so pure it glows.
She spins in the middle of the field, arms lifted to the stars, her white hair loose and catching in the wind. Moonlight kisses her cheeks, and the flowers seem to bend to her touch.
I stand at the edge of the field, heart clenching as I watch her.
She is radiant. Not some distant, untouchable beauty. But real and fierce and impossibly free. A light to be held but never caged.
"You're staring," she says, turning toward me, a playful smile on her face.
"Can you blame me?" I murmur, stepping into the field.
She doesn't answer, just stares at me for a long, quiet moment, the laughter in her eyes softening to something else. Something deeper.
As if the moment had grown too heavy, she turns and walks through the flowers.
I follow, slowly this time. Not because I can't keep up, but because I want to watch her. I want to etch her into every part of me. Memorize her in the field of stars and blossoms.