By the time I’ve traversed much of the palace, I weara confidence that may not feel natural but is hard earned. And with it comes a price. Fatigue crashes into me. The task was successful but draining.
Color rushes back into my cheeks as I see him—Vale—rushing toward me in hurried, joyful steps after turning a corner.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he says with a wry grin that makes me forget the battlefield I just came from.
He takes me by the hand, looking much like a child convinced he’s getting away with some spirited trouble.
I bite my lip and follow his quick steps as we move farther from the crowd.
He stops and turns, pulling me close—impossibly close. For the briefest moment, I feel his breath across my lips, meeting my own quickened air. I smile at the light flashing behind his eyes, eager to learn what lit the spark so.
The answer must wait, though, as his mouth claims mine. Heat surges through me, my whole body answering. His lips part mine, our tongues finding each other, my hand drifting up the back of his neck—tethering myself to him so I don’t float away.
“I have a surprise for you,” he murmurs, his voice low and charged. Before I can ask, he’s leading me away—down corridors and up unfamiliar stairs.
Standing outside two massive doors, he insists, “Close your eyes.”
The hinges creak and thud. Warm light shifts across my face, and I have to force myself to keep my eyes cinched tight.
I feel the change in air as he moves behind me—one hand gently across my waist, the other covering my eyes.
He leads me forward in slow, assured steps.
Warmth envelops me. The air is thick, full—more akin to the valleys outside than the halls of the High Hold. There’s a rawness here that feels like home. My heart beats faster—different from the rhythm born of his touch.
In one swift movement, his hand drops, and he steps to my side. Light pierces my eyes as they flutter open.
So much light. And green. As lush as the forest I left behind. Tight buds of spring, just like those that held such hope in the glade weeks ago. Sunlight falls in white panels through panes of glass, every whichway I look. Pale mosaic stone beneath my feet, and I stand at the center of it all.
“The conservatory,” he says at last, quiet pride warming his tone. He watches me as I turn in place, taking in every detail.
“It’s amazing,” I breathe, awe coating every word. I swat his arm with a playful laugh. “Why didn’t you bring me here before?”
He looks at me incredulously, rubbing his arm as if I’d done real harm.
“It wasn’t ready!” He laughs through the words. “It still isn’t, if I say so myself.”
My eyes scan the room for whatever flaw he could see. Every edge is lined with plants—forest and valley alike—a sea of green lying in wait. I shake my head at him.
“This place used to be in bloom, even long before summer called the buds to open.” He takes my hands in his. “My father built it for my mother—so she would always have a piece of the valley here with her. With them both gone…”
I wrap my arms around him tightly. “Thank you,” I whisper into his chest.
“It’s taken time to bring it back to life.” I can feel the warmth of his smile without even looking up. “I’d hoped to share it once the flowers came in, but I couldn’t wait any longer.”
His fingers tilt my chin until I meet his gaze. “I want this to be your home. Here in Caerhollan. Here with me.”
I press my lips to his cheek, tender. “I love you.”
His eyes drift closed, shoulders easing as he exhales. “I love you, little flame.”
Hand in hand, he shows me around—lilac and daisies, even my cherished jasmine from the glade. Asters that won’t bloom until summer fades into fall. All still green, each holding the promise of a new day with him.
“This place is yours. Tell me—how can we make it your own?”
My eyes light with new energy. Standing in the center of the room, I finally feel I could belong.
“A chair,” I say, gesturing to the open space, “and perhaps a table or a desk. Somewhere I can write—or maybe even sketch.” I feel myselfcome alive again. I close my eyes and tilt my head toward the daylight that washes over me. “Anything that will help me find comfort.” A soft laugh escapes. “I suspect I may lose track of time in here.”
