Vivienne swallowed hard, her throat tightening.
"Your parents would be proud of you."
The words hit her like an arrow to the chest.
"They always have been." He paused. "I am proud of you."
Her fingers curled into her lap, knuckles white. Emotion welled in her chest, raw, aching. She thought of her mother’s warm hands, the face her father made while concentrating, the way they had whispered dreams of adventure into her childhood. And yet—what if they were gone? She couldn’t let herself dwell on her fears.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely holding steady. "That means more than I can say."
Her gaze flickered to the Noctilum, illuminating the space between them. "Who would’ve believed someone who spent all their time in a library would be here… with this?" she murmured, shaking her head.
Garrett chuckled, a warm, knowing sound. He reached forward, giving her shoulder a firm, reassuring squeeze.
"I did."
51
The golden morning light painted the canvas of the Zephyrus’ sails in hues of amber. The salty breeze carried the promise of a fresh start, filling the air with a sense of renewal.
Vivienne stood at the ship’s railing, her fingers curled around the sun-warmed wood, her gaze fixed on the endless horizon. The rhythmic lap of the waves against the hull echoed the steady drum of her heartbeat—faster now, as footsteps approached behind her.
Cirrus stopped beside her, resting his forearms on the railing, his presence quiet but charged. For a moment, neither of them spoke, simply staring out at the vast, open sea.
"Banns," he murmured, his voice low, careful. "I need to say something, and I don’t want you to brush it off."
Vivienne angled her head in his direction, drawn by the gravity in his tone. His ice-blue eyes reflected something exposed and unguarded, as if he were about to pull apart the stitches of an old wound.
He took a steadying breath, his knuckles tightening against the railing. "I've been a fool," he admitted, his voice teeming with regret, as though the words had been lodged in his throat for years. "For walking away. For not fighting for us. For taking three damn years to tell you what I should have said the moment I saw you on this ship."
The breeze ruffled his blond waves, but he hardly seemed to notice.
"On Verdance, when I told you I couldn’t live without you…" he exhaled sharply, his jaw tensing. "I should have said that I love you. I never stopped loving you. Not for a second."
Her fingers pressed into the wood beneath her palms, holding her breath. She wanted to speak, to say something, anything, but Cirrus wasn’t finished. He turned fully toward her, closing the space between them, his voice dropping lower.
"I know what you’re going to say," he continued, his expression tightening as if bracing for rejection. "That nothing’s changed. That eventually, I’ll have to take my father’s title, and you’ll go back to the Library of Metis. But I don’t care."
Vivienne’s heart clenched, his words unstacking the bricks of her carefully built walls.
"I want whatever time I can have with you," he said, his voice urgent, pleading. "If it’s just today, this voyage, or a few years stolen from fate—I’ll take it. I’ll take whatever future you’re willing to give."
His confession hung between them, fragile. She stared up at him, her mind spinning with a thousand memories—the reckless joy of their youth, the heartbreak of parting, the battles fought side by side. And now, here he was, standing before her, laying himself bare, asking for another chance.
Cirrus’ broad shoulders rose and fell, his breath uneven. His usual cocky bravado unraveled, fraying into uncertainty as he searched her face.
She had once let him go, knowing their relationship couldn’t survive a future prescribed by duty. But this journey had reminded her of everything she’d always known about him—his bravery, his loyalty, his open heart that had only ever belonged to her.What does the future matter when tomorrow is never promised?
Vivienne’s heartbeat rampaged in her throat, her lips parting on a breathless whisper. "I don’t know how long it will take me to catch up to you," she admitted, her voice trembling with truth. "But I’m willing to try again… for whatever time we’re allowed to borrow."
Cirrus froze, his eyes widening, his breath stumbling as if her words had knocked the air from his lungs.
He closed the distance between them, cupping her face in his hands. His thumb brushed over her cheek, as though he needed to feel she was real—that this wasn’t another dream stolen from the waves.
"Vivienne…" The whisper barely left his lips before his mouth crashed into hers.
The kiss burned with everything unsaid, every regret, every missed moment, every shred of hope wrapped in the promise of now. His fingers tangled in her hair, his other hand splayed against the small of her back, holding her as if he were afraid she might vanish with the tide.
