I leaned forward slightly, my gaze searching the grounds below. “It worked,” I whispered, though the words felt uncertain even as I spoke them.
Evander didn’t immediately answer, his gaze fixed on the horizon before shifting back into the room; he seemed to listen intently for something beyond the room we were in. “In part,” he said at last. “But the life returning to the world has not reached all its inhabitants; my subjects appear to still be sleeping.”
A strange unease curled in my chest. My attention drifted, caught on something I couldn’t quite explain. The sound of the birds lingered in the air, the steady motion of the swaying trees, the faint layering of the scent of earth and budding flowers carried through the open window. It all felt too present and complete, not like the fractured remnants within the castle or anything I’d ever experienced in the waking world.
The thought surfaced slowly, unbidden. I frowned slightly, the realization forming piece by piece. In contrast to this vibrancy, it had always been quiet there, almost empty…as though something had been stripped away so gradually I had never thought to question it. I’d been unwilling to consider any evidence in the past, unable to believe that my reality might be reversed. Yet I could no longer ignore the mounting clues.
Here, the world didn’t blur at the edges or dim when I focused too closely. Every sound, every movement, every stir of the wind settled into place with quiet certainty, as if it had always belonged there. I drew in a slow breath, a soft recognitionI couldn’t name tightening my chest as an unsettling thought began to take root.
If this was only a dream…then why did it feel more alive than anything I had ever known?
“Why is everything so much more vivid in this world?” I didn’t expect an answer to the quiet question; this man had only ever existed within this dream and had nothing to compare it to.
But Evander’s lips lifted in a half smile. “I’ve told you before this isn’t a dream.”
I didn’t respond, still wrestling with my uncertainty, and he turned away, returning to the table and closing the book with a softthudthat seemed to resonate in the stillness. I felt the unwelcome loss of his presence beside me the moment he stepped away.
I joined him at the table, once more taking in the scattered notes and half-burned candles. “You’ve been doing this for a long time,” I said.
He nodded, his expression drawn with weariness. “There are better spells than the one we just tried, I just haven’t been able to reach them yet.”
His gaze flicked towards a darkened archway on the far side of the room, half-hidden behind collapsed shelving and creeping vines. I followed the line of his attention. “You don’t sound discouraged,” I said.
“I don’t have the luxury of being discouraged.” There was no bitterness in his tone, only determination, one of many traits I was beginning to admire in him. The realization stirred something in my chest, unfamiliar and unwelcome in equal measure. Before I could examine it too closely, he turned.
“Come,” he said. “There’s something I want to show you.”
This time, I followed without hesitation. He led me through the archway and into another corridor—this one less ruined, though still touched by neglect. The air shifted as we walked,growing cooler and quieter, as though the space itself held its breath. Until at last, we stepped out into the open.
My breath caught with wonder. The night stretched endlessly above us, deeper than any sky I had ever seen—as we’d conversed night had fully fallen, and now the expanse was ink-dark and scattered with stars that burned brighter than they had any right to, as though this world had forgotten how to dim them. Moonlight spilled across the stone balcony, bathing everything in silver, softening the ruin into something almost beautiful.
For a moment, I forgot to breathe. “It’s beautiful,” I murmured.
“It wasn’t always like this,” Evander said, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “Before the curse, this place was…alive.”
I moved closer to the edge of the balcony, resting my hands lightly against the cool stone. Evander joined me a moment later, close enough our shoulders brushed. Rather than move away, I leaned in closer, seeking his presence.
I followed his gaze, taking in the vast expanse above us. The stars shimmered with impossible clarity, like a painting just completed, its fresh paint still glistening. Silence settled between us, but it wasn’t empty. The night breathed around us—the faint whisper of wind, the distant echo of something unseen, alive in a way that felt beautiful and almost real.
“I don’t understand this world,” I admitted, my voice soft so as not to shatter the reverence around us. “Or how I fit into it. Part of me is still convinced this is a dream; the other part doesn’t know what to think.”
“You’re not meant to fully understand yet,” he said.
“Then what am I meant to do?”
His gaze shifted to me, steady and searching in a way that made it difficult to look away. “Just stay. You don’t have to keep running anymore.”
The word settled between us—simple and unadorned, yet weighted with something far deeper than it should have been.This is a dream, I reminded myself.Only a dream. I felt an unexpected disappointment as I realized that my feelings here didn’t matter—if I felt drawn to him in a way that felt entirely outside my control, it was meaningless since my desires could never come to fruition.
The space between us had narrowed to something fragile, almost intentional. My breath hitched—not from fear, but from something far more dangerous:awareness. His gaze held mine, unwavering now. as though he had made some silent decision and was waiting to see if I would do the same.
I found myself studying him—the quiet intensity of his expression, the longing filling his deep grey eyes that, more than anything, nearly undid me. I wanted to discover his hidden thoughts, unravel the secrets hidden in his gaze, explore the feelings he invoked, and search for why—after a lifetime of running—he was the first man who had ever wanted me to remain still…and the only one who tempted me to acquiesce.
The world seemed to still once more, narrowing to the quiet space between us—the shared breath, the unspoken awareness neither of us acknowledged. The realization of how close we stood, the warmth of him beside me in contrast to the cool night air, the way neither of us moved away.
My hand shifted slightly against the stone railing and brushed his. After a breath, he slowly closed the remaining distance. His thumb lightly stroked the back of my hand, sending a ripple of warmth across my skin, a familiar echo to the touch from the version of him outside the dream, yet undeniably his.
This was the second time he’d reached for me, and just as before, I didn’t pull away. If anything, I leaned into it just enough that I could feel the certainty of his hold as his fingersclosed around mine, keeping me steady. For a moment, the swirling chaos of my two worlds seemed to pause and I simply felt secure, protected, and grounded by our connection. I stared at the point where our hands met, the quiet surety of his grip enfolding me as though I were something fragile yet precious and chosen.
