“You’re not planning to go, are you?”
Apparently, even a simple question was harder than I thought.
“I never go,” he said, voice low and smooth, like velvet. “You… dressed up for the occasion.”
My breath snagged. I lowered my gaze and held out the chocolate book. “I made this for you. I thought you should celebrate too. Yeun says it’s tradition to give… something to someone you… tolerate.” I bit my lip, words rushing faster. “I tried to create a dessert that reminds me of you. It was surprisingly simple. Not because you’re simple, far from it, but the ingredients, they presented themselves.”
Arawn took the book. I watched his fingers glide over the smooth surface, tracing the raised letters I had sculpted. “No one has ever given me anything. Is this… how you see me?”
I smiled. “Yes. Dark chocolate is demanding. But when it’s worked properly, it becomes extraordinary. Inside, there’s black tea and hibiscus. It’s complex, almost bitter, but once understood, they reveal their beauty. And the book hides a surprise, one only the rarest person can uncover. If they have the key.”
I offered him the chocolate key.
“You made this tonight?” he breathed, and in his voice was a shadow of disbelief, as though he had just swum across an entire kingdom.
“Yes, but don’t worry, I’m keeping up with my grimoire. We’re nearly there!” I crossed my fingers behind my back.Now. This is the moment.“Arawn, do you?—”
“Lempicka, would you?—”
Our voices collided at once. We froze, and a bluish light burst into the corridor.
“Ah, there you are! The ceremony, Lempicka! You’ll be late!” Little flames slipped from Yeun. He had certainly just realized he was interrupting something. “What was I saying again? Oh yes, I think Guimauve’s calling me!”
And in a whirl of sparks, he vanished as quickly as he’d come. Arawn and I both stepped back.
“I should go.”
“Yes, they’re waiting for you,” he said, melting into the shadow of the hallway.
My heart clenched as I turned away. He wouldn’t have accepted my invitation anyway. It was far too human for someone like him. I couldn’t even manage to charm one person. How could I hope to enchant someone like him, with two hearts?
But before I could stop myself, I spun back around and shouted, “Do you think I’m pretty?”
The words rang through the manor, ricocheting off its walls and cold pipes, far louder than I had meant. My cheeks burned under the weight of my own confession.
Humiliating myself—that, at least, I excelled at.
But I had to know if my heart was beating alone, or if his, even faintly, answered.
Arawn, one hand on his door handle, ready to vanish into the night, stilled. Then, with a small smile that shattered something inside me, he said:
“I didn’t manage to hide it very well, did I?” A breath. “You are… dazzling.”
Dazzling.My stomach dropped, a thousand shards of emotion exploding inside me like fireworks, and suddenly I ran, as if running could save me from being swept away by this tide of feeling.
If someone had told me that one day I’d find myself at the heart of a fairy celebration, surrounded by Spirits, Cursed, and magic, I would have laughed (and screamed in panic). Yet, there I was.
There, beneath a sky embroidered with stars, in a clearing of nocturnal violets. There, where swings heavy with pastries swayed gently between branches, where the lake shimmered dark and smooth as obsidian. At its edge, purple waterlilies drifted. Lanterns of every color, strung from the branches of a weeping willow, held sleeping fireflies, ready to ignite the night. A harp rose into the air, a thread of melody woven with spider silk.
Yeun was right to fight for the original tree. If it fell, wouldn’t the whole orchard collapse with it? Wouldn’t it be an omen of the end of the confectioners, of magic itself? I gazed at my glittering hand. My curse had brought me here. Maybe Arawn’s fate and the fate of the great tree were bound together. Maybe it was a mirror of his own heart.
A stir pulled me from my thoughts. A Spirit floated before me, hesitant, urged forward by others in the distance. In its hands, a flower of luminous purple.
“For me?” I whispered, still surprised they would show themselves so friendly.
Obedient, even. More alive than before. The Spirit nodded.
“It’s beautiful,” I said, wrapping the root of the flower around my wrist, where it nestled like a bracelet. “May I hug you to thank you?”
