“It would be nice to stop running and stay somewhere, to finally belong.” I glanced down at our joined hands. “What I thought was nothing more than a thrilling pastime was only ever an attempt to fill something missing inside me.”
My fingers tightened slightly around his as I lifted my gaze to his. “But I don’t need to borrow other people’s memories anymore. With you…I could spend a lifetime creating my own.”And for the first time, I found myself wondering if this was one treasure I didn’t need to steal…because it was being freely given.
He turned his head just enough to catch my lips before I could pull away, drawing me back into him as though he had no intention of letting me escape so easily this time. His arms closed around me once more, holding me there with quiet certainty.
After a moment, his voice came again, softer now, meant only for me. “You once stepped into my dreams, and I thought that was all you could ever be. But I was wrong.” His hand tightened slightly at my back as he pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, something warm and steady shining there now. “You’re not the woman of my dreams, Mirelle: you’re the one who made them real.”
The reverence that followed was no longer empty, but full of everything that no longer needed to be hidden behind deflection or distance. I felt it in the way his gaze lingered, in the quiet awareness that passed between us, in the way neither of usseemed inclined to break the fragile stillness that had settled so gently into place.
Eventually, it was he who moved first. Slowly and cautiously, as though rediscovering movement, he pushed himself upright with a slight unsteadiness that didn’t escape my notice.
I scooted closer, my hand closing gently around his arm. “Careful.” The word brought a rush of memories—Evander cautioning me as I scaled his balcony, hid with him from guards, or planned a daring escapade. This time I was the one offering a warning. For a moment, it felt as though something of what we had been returned, reshaped but not entirely lost.
He stilled at my touch, his gaze dropping briefly to where my hand rested against him. His lips curved slightly. “You claimed your own victory sooner than I expected. “It seems I am the one who has been captured after all.”
A quiet warmth stirred my heart, fragile but growing.
He steadied himself, though he didn’t pull away. Instead, he reached for my hand, lacing his fingers through mine with quiet certainty. Together, we left the chamber.
I didn’t need to ask what he was searching for. I could see it in the anxious way his gaze moved through the palace, taking in the heavy, slumbering stillness shrouding the corridors, the sleeping figures we passed who had not yet stirred. The joy of his waking and the sweetness of our reunion began to dim beneath the concern that deepened with each room we passed, each unmoving figure, each breathless silence.
“No one else has awakened.” The words broke from him, the fragile certainty he had begun to rebuild already beginning to fracture. “How do we break the curse placed on the kingdom?”
I didn’t immediately answer, feeling just as lost. I looked around the castle, each stone and object holding its own memory. Somewhere within them lay the answer. If only I knew which one.
Then an unformed possibility stirred. “We should back to where it all began,” I suggested. I tightened my hold on his hand, guiding him forward. He hesitated only a fraction of a moment before following.
We moved through familiar halls, retracing a path that felt both distant and familiar, shaped now by everything we had experienced together. The doors to his chambers stood as they had before. This time, we entered them together. Despite the concern I felt for the sleeping kingdom, it was a comfort to face this with Evander at my side.
The room felt different now, no longer frozen and lifeless, but holding something quiet, as though it too awaited resolution. I immediately moved to the nightstand where the crown still rested, its surface catching the light—no longer ominous, but still. Waiting.
I stepped towards it and lifted it carefully, its weight familiar in my hands, echoing with the memories of everything it had already shown me. I moved to place it upon his head, but something in me hesitated. This wasn’t mine to do. I extended it towards him instead.
“I think you should be the one to do it.”
He didn’t move at first, something unreadable passing through his expression as he stared at the crown—a flicker of fear and doubt.
Slowly, hands trembling, he reached for it. Our fingers brushed as he took it from me, the contact brief but grounding. For a long moment, he simply held it, his gaze tracing the intricate details—the ornate carvings, the set of each jewel, the weight of what it represented.
Then, he drew in a wavering breath, and placed it upon his head. For a heartbeat, he remained still, as if savoring the weight of responsibility he’d finally accepted. Gradually his posture straightened—not forced or practiced, but as though his longdormant confidence had settled back into place. The uncertainty that had once shadowed him didn’t vanish entirely, but it no longer defined him, allowing him to return to himself.
Enchantment followed in a slow, expanding ripple—nothing like the cold, consuming force that had taken hold before, but warm and luminous, alive with promise rather than punishment. Light unfurled outward from him, brushing the very fabric of the castle itself, restoring all that had been slumbering. The magic lingered for a moment longer before fading, leaving peace in its wake.
For a time, neither of us moved in the fragile space we stood within, simply listening. The stillness that had once defined the castle had changed, so subtly that it didn’t immediately register against the reverence we’d just emerged from. Yet though I sensed the curse of slumber had broken, it didn’t appear to have fully lifted.
I moved slowly onto the balcony where we’d met so many times, looking out over the land that glistened with all life…except its people.
I brushed my hand along the railing, awakening a glimmer of memories—not only of my clandestine meetings with the prince, but others who had touched it. The guards who’d overlooked the grounds during patrol. A maid had paused here in her cleaning, longing for her family in another kingdom. Evander once leaning here, worrying about his inability to wear the crown that now rested, whole and bright, on his head.
An idea sparked in my mind and I turned back to Evander, who was rummaging through his desk for any information that might pertain to the curse.“I think I know what to do.”
I took his hand, leading him downstairs. We entered the first bedroom and I bent over the man who lay there—a guard, arranged with care by Evander when he fell asleep. Dark hair fell over his olive forehead as he lay frozen in time.
Slowly I lay a hand on the man’s wrist, touching the bronze cufflink marked with the kingdom’s seal. Memories drifted towards me, allowing me to see his last moments before the curse struck. Patiently, I sifted through them, digging deeper until I found what I was looking for—the memories that made this man who he was. I saw a smiling woman, a curly-haired boy, a cottage that was small but filled with life. Gently I tugged at these memories, pulling them to the surface.
“What are you doing?” Evander asked curiously from beside me.
“I’m reminding him who he is,” I said. Memories this potent were almost tangible; I reached out a hand to cup them.
