Atilia exhales, and then her finger comes beneath my chin, lifting it until I am forced to meet her gaze. For once, there is no annoyance there.
“If things were different, you and I might have gotten along just fine, Neve. I could have watched you and Luceran flourish and bloom.” Her gaze drifts to the window, to where the snow retreats and bright green shoots push through the dark soil. “Just as Brunemar is doing now.”
She looks back at me, something firm settling into her expression.
“But this world is not so kind. So go. Run. Find happiness where you can,whileyou can.”
I swallow hard, my shoulders shivering though no trace of cold lingers around me. “Do you think they will come looking for us?” I ask.
Something like a smile touches the corner of her mouth.
“Perhaps. But that is not what I mean.” Her gaze sharpens. “Luceran is Fae. Immortal. His years stretch long.” She pauses, letting the truth settle before speaking again. “You are not, Neve, and if you find the happiness you both crave, you will discover just how quickly those years pass.”
Her voice softens, almost unbearably so.
“So go. Now, and cherish all the time you have.”
I want that to be the end of it. I know it should be. My head understands her warning, knows I should take it and leave well enough alone.
But my mouth betrays me.
“The Aurevault,” I say softly, barely more than a breath. “The miners. Even with the demon gone, that place is still…” I falter, searching for words that feel inadequate even as they leave me. “It is cruel, and some of them do not deserve…”
Atilia’s fingers tighten around my chin, the touch no longer gentle, silencing me at once.
“The world turns so slowly that we do not feel it shift,” she says. “The humans will have their day. I feel that deep in my bones, and when that day comes, the Fae will not know it is upon us until the ground gives way beneath our feet.”
Her gaze settles on me, distant now, as though she is already looking beyond this moment.
“Now, for the last time, go.”
She releases my chin, and I do not linger. I step backward, never breaking her gaze, until my spine meets the solid warmth of Luceran’s chest.
“Are you ready?” he asks.
“Yes.” I reach for his forearm, my fingers digging into his skin as Atilia’s words echo through my thoughts. “I’m ready.”
I go to the library first.
I pull my favorite books free one by one and toss them into the air. Mink and Fitz shriek, darting and tumbling as they catch each book mid-flight, their arms filling until they can carry no more.
Luceran watches from the doorway. His lips move as he counts.
I stop at a dozen, just as his patience thins.
We go upstairs next. I fold a small selection of clothes into a case, while Mink and Fitz drop the books carefully on top. I latch it shut with a decisive click, then drag it into the hall where Luceran waits.
He takes the weight from my hands without comment. Around us, ice continues to melt along the walls, water dripping onto stone in a slow, echoing rhythm that fills the castle. Together we descend the stairs, crossing the foyer one last time. When he pulls open the great doors, we are not met with biting cold, but with dappled sunlight spilling across the steps.
The carriage waits at the base of the stairs, horses stamping and snorting, eager to run.
We make it halfway down before I realize a presence I have come to cherish is missing.
I turn back just as Luceran opens the carriage door and puts my case inside.
The castle doors remain slightly ajar, and in their shadow stand Mink and Fitz. They cling to the darkness, though each time I catch a glimpse of their faces, they are staring toward the sun with a mixture of wonder and dread.
“Can they not leave the castle?” I ask softly.
