“Maddie,” he said finally, his voice lower than intended, roughened by disuse.
She looked up at once, a smile already forming. “Sebastian!”
And just like that, the world seemed warmer.
“You shouldn’t be out here. You’re barely recovered.”
He shook his head, stepping closer. “I needed air.”
Her gaze scanned his face, pausing just a moment too long on his mouth. She was worried. He saw it in the way her brows pinched slightly. In the way her gloved hands fidgeted with the folds of her cloak.
“I’m quite recovered. Truly.” He hesitated, then added, “Thanks to you.”
She didn’t answer immediately, just stood and dusted snow off her knees. When she looked at him again, her cheeks were pink, and not from the cold, he suspected.
“It was nothing,” she murmured.
“No.” He stepped closer, feeling something solid and sure beneath the words. “It was everything.”
The snow crunched softly between them. The space was small now. Not quite close enough to touch. But enough that the warmth of her breath mingledwith his in the frigid air.
Maddie glanced away, her lashes brushing her cheek. “I only brought what anyone would have. You’d have done the same.”
“Not everyone would have come.” His voice was quiet now, steady. “And not everyone would have known what to bring.”
She didn’t answer.
Sebastian reached out, gently lifting one of her hands. Through the glove, he felt the shape of her fingers. Small. Strong. Real.
“I missed you,” he said.
Her eyes snapped up to meet his. Wide. Shining.
“I didn’t go anywhere,” she whispered.
“You did,” he said, his thumb brushing the top of her glove. “You didn’t stay after you brought me tea. And the castle—my chambers—felt empty without you.”
And that’s when he realized it.
My heart is empty without you.
Something shifted in her expression. The kind of vulnerability one tried to hide but failed to—just as he had failed to ignore the ache of her absence.
“I only stayed away because I thought—” She shook her head. “Because I thought you needed rest.”
“I needed you,” he said simply.
The words hung in the air between them, misting in the cold.
She didn’t smile, not yet. But her hand tightened in his, just a fraction.
And Sebastian knew, with more clarity than he’d known anything in a long time, that this was what he’d been waiting for—not just the lifting of a fever, or the clearing of his head. But this. The feeling of being seen. Of being cared for. Of wanting something enough to reach for it.
“I’m glad you’re better,” Maddie said softly.
“I am.” His gaze didn’t leave hers. “And I think… I’m only just beginning to feel like myself again.”But I will never be the same without you.
A gust of wind rushed over them then, stealing her cap from her head. Her hair tumbled out in soft, dark waves, and she laughed—startled, shy, lovely.
