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Oh, fragile nocturne butterfly,

How can I hold you when we die?

I was so close to giving up,

But you brought me a buttercup.

I’m sorry that I hold on tight,

I know that this couldn’t be right.

But I will hold your gift in my hand,

From now on, till the very end.

– Inkbird

“…a buttercup,” I recited. “I love floral symbolism.”

The whole poem was full of symbolism that I would explore at my own pace when I took the book with me.

I was sure it was about Alice, sure that these poems were perhaps a key to his past with her.

“How am I supposed to ever write a poem that even remotely comes close to your poetry?”

I leaned back and closed my eyes.

“But I will hold your gift in my hand. From now on, till the very end. Quite dramatic, don’t you think? What gift would someone want to hold on to so tightly?”

When I opened my eyes again, I looked directly into his, searching the glistening deep green and the dark blue rims of his irises for the meaning behind his words, as if I could find it there, but Alarik was good at hiding things.

The curiosity in my chest was so strong that it caused tension to run across my skin.

Behind Alarik, papers rose from his desk. The candles began to flicker.

My eyes widened, and Alarik followed my gaze, but immediately looked back at... at my eyes.

Panicked, I squeezed them shut, only hearing the rustle of paper and something falling to the floor with a muffled thud.

When I opened my eyes again, Alarik’s focus was solely on me.

“I'm sorry...” My eyes flickered shut and open, and I looked at the book in his hands, at the paper on the floor and in front of the fireplace, where I spotted a first edition of Pride and Prejudice dangerously close to the flames.

Oh no...

“Has this ever happened to you before?”

Alarik seemed confused.

What should I reply to that?

I couldn't get a word out, just nodded.

He chuckled softly, closed the book, and examined it for a moment before turning his gaze to the papers on the floor.

My eyes followed his to a white paper crane that had also landed close to the fireplace.

“You're a mystery to me, Bayla Adams.”