The smell of him surrounds me—Earl Grey with a hint of spice. Warm breath tickles my ear as he leans in to whisper, “I love you.” His hard body presses against mine, effortlessly gliding me around the room. Etta James’ “At Last” floats through the air, wrapping us in its melody. My mind drifts, consumed by him, by us.

An hour has passed since the sun sank beyond the horizon, and our daughter sleeps soundly in her bed upstairs. I allow myself a moment for the world to fade away.

Reveling in the feeling of his hand pressed against my lower back, I sink deeper into him. A contented sigh gently leaves my lips, and a soft chuckle rumbles through his chest. He pulls me tighter, and I rest my head against his shoulder.

His fingers brush a stray curl behind my ear, lips pressing softly to my forehead as he mumbles, “Forever.”

A soft knock at the door pulls me from my haze. I suck in a sharp breath, my eyes fluttering open as reality crashes down, heavy and suffocating.

The ballroom around me still stands, though silent and empty now. The chandelier overhead casts a flickering light across the oak floors, their once-polished surface now aged with time. Heavy, flowing curtains frame large floor-to-ceiling windows where rain gently taps against them, each droplet echoing the ache in my chest. Goosebumps prickle my arms, a reminder of the warmth that used to fill this room.

The wooden chair creaks beneath my shifting weight. I straighten my black dress, smoothing the creases with wrinkled hands. The room that had witnessed so many of our shared moments—so much laughter and love—now stands empty and silent.

A soft knock sounds again, and I turn to see my daughter in the doorway. Her figure is framed by the gray light of the gloomy day outside. Her eyes are wide, filled with concern, and her small voice cracks the silence. “Mom… It’s time.”

I glance at her, nodding slowly. “I’ll be there in a moment, love.”

I turn back toward the room. Every memory of the life we shared together floods me. The scent of his cologne, the sound of his booming laugh, the warmth of his touch—all leaving a hollow ache in the pit of my stomach.

The thud of my cane echoes in the empty room as I make my way to the door. The sound of the rain grows louder as we step past the threshold. My daughter speaks, but her words are lost to the ringing in my ears. The lock clicks into place as the rain picks up, and with my voice barely a whisper, I say, “And ever.”

Visalia was only fifteen when she killed the does devil.

She had imagined herself in a beautiful gown with handsome prince dancing with her surrounded by the most fantastical of people in the most fantastical of places.

The ruined castle she had played in almost everyday since she could leave the yard was her sanctuary. Her safe place. Her home.

She would live the life she wanted but could never have.

On this particular day in the castle, she was hunting. There had been a food shortage in the trade and her parents didn’t have enough to afford food.

So she stalked any shadow that dared to move.

She was swift and stealthy like the wind.

She had two pheasants attached to her belt when she saw the catch.

A beautiful deer that had seemed to come out of no where. She pulled her bowstring, hoping this was a time when her arrow would fly straight.

She aimed her shot and let it fire.

The second the deer heard the arrow whiz through the air it was already too late. Visalia’s arrow had shot straight.

She watched as the doe dropped to the ground below the brush behind the crumbling walls of the ballroom. She took one quick and terrible twirl before stalking towards her catch and off the marble and decaying floor of the ruined hall.

Visalia crept towards her catch hoping the deer was as healthy as it looked. It would be a weeks worth of meals for her family.

But to her horror, the deer she had sworn she had seen was not there. Instead, she saw a woman on the ground, arrow through her heart and eyes unseeing.

Visalia fell to the ground beside the woman, scared of the consequences of killing another human.

So she buried her.

She dug a grave and laid her in a bed of wildflowers before giving her back to the earth.

She had cried and had cried even in her squeaking bed back at the small cottage she lived in with her parents.

That woman was a mother, she’d thought, that woman had a family to go back to.

And so then, she vowed she could never let this guilt reach her. She vowed to never, ever kill another soul.

Except Visalia’s story went no such way.

The invitation could not have been more cryptic. I held it in my hands and read it once, twice and then after the third I thought about giving up and going home.I was standing in a small abandoned looking theater. The place smelled of mothballs and dust.

The small black card I was holding in my hands had been slipped under my door when I held arrived from a long shift. The message or riddle made no sense but there was un address and weirdly enough a social media page. I googled it and realized it was a type of speak-easy style place where you needed a special invite. The thought of a cool exclusive party was better than staying home and dwelling on my shitty day, so I got changed into something fitting for the occasion, got in my car and drove here.

Now I stood clueless at the designated adress. The front door had led me to small room almost fully covered in mirrors. There was no music playing and no one else around. I was about to leave and then I saw it, one mirror looked smudged with hundreds of fingerprints. I walked over and pushed on the glass releasing a gasp at the reveal of a secret door. I pushed my way into the dimly lit hallway and heard the door close behind me. The music was much louder inside the hall and as I approached the large se of double doors I heard the voices of people. The large wooden door creaked open and then you were in awe.

On the other side was a large ballroom, decorated with beautiful art nouveau inspired chandeliers made of stained glass. I walked into the room fully seeing it was filled with many other guests around 100-200 maybe more. The decor was minimal leaving lots of space for dancing. Many already moved to the music and I saw a live band hidden in the back corner of the large space.

I was near the door still too taken aback to move when he approached me. A tall handsome looking man with dark locks of hair and even darker eyes.

“Can I ask you for a dance?” His smile stole your breath.

“Yes” I didn’t think twice about my answer, I had come here to have fun and be spontaneous and just feel something. He led me to an empty spot on the floor and started leading. I tried to follow without stepping on his feet.

“Do you um come here often?” My question to him was genuine though I knew it sounded like a pick up line.

“No it’s my first time. You?” He asked also curious.

“Me too.” I looked around

“Well I’m glad I decided to come even though I for sure thought I would get murdered.” He joked and I looked up to him laughing at the comment since the thought had also crossed my mind.

“Me too.” I agreed again and then rested my head against his shoulder letting him guide my movements fully making it much easier to follow. I danced for hours with this man who I learned was named Michael then he walked me to my car where we promised to see each other again.

As I walked into the ballroom I admired the beautiful mosaics in gold and other fine jewels that made up the walls and floor of the room. It was exactly as it had been in my dream the night before. I couldn’t help but notice the subtle rain patter on the roof that made a pleasing environment in the quiet ballroom.

I walked around and had deja vu from my dream. I had been dancing with a stranger who’s name I could not recall. I only remember his golden blonde hair and striking green eyes and perfect white smile. He had said he wasn’t from around here but I couldn’t help but feel as if I knew him. Like we were meant for each other.

I walked out onto the middle of the room and slowly turned to admire the beauty of the architecture and the subtle music I heard in my head. I could only imagine myself in a luxurious snow white dress dancing to the music.

As I peered up to the glass dome that made up a small fraction of the roof I saw the beautiful sunset made up of hues of orange, yellow and pink and decided it best to head home to my cottage deep in the woods where my mother and sister were waiting for me to arrive.

As I hurried out the doors I turned down the cobblestone street and that’s when I saw him standing infront of me. His blonde hair almost glowing in the evening sun, and his green eyes staring back at me in surprise. And then he said twelve simple words that shook me to my core, “You were the girl I danced with in my dream last night.”

ESCAPE PLAN

Written by Queen Nerva and King Redfal

Advised by Louisa Lace, Official Royal Doctor

Witnessed by Mr. Nevyle, Official Royal Personnel

The Royal children, Covelle, Adella, Kent, Halina, Amerie, and Spade, are the best hope for the kingdom. If an attack occurs, all possible heirs flee in various but mapped out places. This procures the most favorable outcome of all or as many of the heirs alive. The oldest among the surviving children will take the throne if the queen or king are not able. It is imperative for each heir that makes it to their assigned area, they need to wait until Allaver is under its correct rule.

1. Princess Covelle flees to our strongest ally Tarvin where she will remain until there is enough resources to take back Allaver.

2. Princess Adella flees to Gallia, approaching from the north, where she will remain until Allaver is taken back.

3. Prince Kent flees to our neighboring kingdom Chartan, approaching from the north, where he is under the protection of his uncle, King Zael and Queen Asselina.

4. Princess Halina flees to Gallia, approaching from the south and will remain there with Princess Adella until Allaver is taken back.

5. Princess Amerie flees to the Royal safehouse where she will remain until Allaver is taken back.

6. Prince Spade flees to Chartan, approaching from the south. He will remain there with Prince Kent until Allaver is taken back.

——— (I have a lot of ideas on each of their individual journeys. Them all going in separate directions intentionally is just part of it. I’ll continue to write stories with these characters and others in this universe, but this is the final part in chronological order. Thank you to anyone who has followed this series of posts in any capacity! It means more than I can possibly say!)

“I think we need to go,” Cove said, tugging on Louisa’s hand that felt like a death grip. She stood rooted in place.

The heavy ballroom doors busted open with so much force the chandeliers rattled, shaking the tiny light rays. Soldiers with no distinguishing emblems poured into the room. Cove and Louisa were farthest from the source of overpowering warriors.

Her hand instinctively pulled out her sword. “Louisa let’s go!” But she didn’t budge.

“Come on, I need you to get to safety!” Louisa stayed in place. “Covelle, the escape plan. You must go.”

The escape plan. Her parents created it for the Royal children. “I won’t leave you!”

“You have to. I love you and your siblings.” With that, Louisa pulled out a long, thin sword that Cove didn’t even know where she hid it and pushed Cove. “Go!”

Cove moved on autopilot. Pure instinct. Protect yourself, don’t let the opposition see your blind spots. She swung her sword, deflecting an attack close to hitting her. Kicking out the soldier’s foot, she brought the backend of her sword into his forehead.

In one second, she observed the fight around her. Nowhere was Della, Kent, or Amerie. She honed in on her mother’s bright dress. There was her mother and father, fighting back to back like they always did.

Louisa had fought through the crowd closer to them. Cove had never known their doctor to be a highly skilled fighter. The grace and ease even with her age, only confirmed a past in training.

Someone collapsed at Cove’s feet. She immediately kneeled down and caught a glimpse at the Allaver symbol. “Shell!” She has a large gaping gash bleeding profusely from her abdomen. White light flowed from her hands as she pressed down hard on the wound. The heavy breathing turned to a gasp as her wound healed. “You’re going to be ok, Shell.”

“Amerie got away safely,” Shell managed to croak out. “You need to go.”

Cove continued healing with the battle going on around her. She looked up and in slow motion, she could see what was about to happen.

“Mom!” She cried in warning. A woman with a bow strapped on her back and a spear in her hand got close to her mother. Her father preoccupied with a trio of opponents. Cove could never make it in time.

Louisa saw this too. She threw herself in front of Cove’s mother, the queen but also her best friend.

Cove went to run into the fray when arms circled around her waist, stopping her. “Cove, the escape plan. We have to leave now.” Thorne grabbed her hand, sword in the other and began to pull her away. “No Louisa’s hurt, I can help her.”

“The most important thing to her is that you and your siblings make it out, Cove. That’s it.” She glanced back as Thorne dragged her along. Seeing Louisa so brave, running felt cowardice.

A white light came from Louisa. Cove blinked and realized Spade got to her and was attempting to heal her. He brought up his dagger to stop an impending slash. The enemy was bigger and stronger. He had to use both hands to push back, halting her healing. The escape plan meant all of them ran. Not all but Spade.

She resisted Thorne’s direction. “Thorne, I need to help my brother.”

“You are the most crucial one to escape. We can’t help him now.”

“I’m supposed to protect him, protect them all!”

“You can’t save everyone, Cove,” Thorne said, forcefully grabbed her and swung her so he was where she was standing. He fought off a hatchet who got much too close. Thorne shoved the person back and stabbed them in the stomach. Fatal if not treated.

Cove sidestepped Thorne and let the light take over. After exactly six seconds, he ripped her away from the dying person. “Cove, you are the heir. If the king and queen die or are taken hostage, you are queen.”

That word jolted her. She was Queen. Or most likely at the moment. She needed to leave for her people. A quick look at her opponent, Thorne struck down. From his coloring and even breathing, he would live.

When Thorne gripped her arm, she went voluntarily this time. She knew the destination, but the journey unclear.

The ballroom was huge. Just his luck. But the ballroom was not only huge but painted in crimson. Crimson blood. Adrian stood there transfixed on the body. Twisted all the wrong angles. A woman dressed stood tall just over the body. The woman crossed the room the heels of her boot echoing on the hard wooden floor. The sound reverberating through the high ceiling ballroom. She reached him within a couple of seconds. He tried to move but he was frozen in place. The woman muttered to herself “I must get revenge” Then she plunged the knife towards Adrian’s heart. He scrambled back dogging the knife by a centimeter. A noise came from the front door of the ballroom. The woman booted jutting as fast as she had appeared she was gone and he was left. Blood on his hands. A dead body across from him. The door burst open. “you kill the target boss??” Asked the person opening the door. “Yes” he answered “ oh yah send out a bounty” “A bounty? For who” “Amelia glean” “Why?” “That isn’t something someone like u need to know” “R-Right boss” Adrian pulled on gloved and picked up the knife the woman had dropped when she left. It was sure to have her fingerprints, amateur.

(I think I’ll only be posting two more parts and then I might stop regularly posting for this series. I will probably post stories within this universe though, but I don’t want the ‘pressure’ to post all the ideas I have. The pressure is entirely from myself.) ——

Dancing with Thorne made up for all the dances with the random men who she didn’t know but was expected to agree to marry. She knew the inevitable would come eventually. That didn’t mean she couldn’t hold it up as long as she could. Enjoy the little time she had left with Thorne.

One of the worst parts about this betrothal situation was that Thorne was assigned her lifetime guard. Once she picked someone that she could maybe tolerate for the rest of her life, Thorne would still be there every day. She would long for him and he would long for her in silence.

She loved Thorne and was in love with him.

“Princess Cove, I appreciate granting me a dance,” Thorne said. She sighed at the formality when they were in public. Dancing with her was indulgent on his part. Otherwise he did nothing for himself.

She curtsied, “It was my pleasure.”

“We have garnered much attention. Perhaps we danced for longer than we should have,” his voice just above a whisper.

“These are what keeps me going at galas, Thorne. I don’t want to dance with anyone else.” He smiled, taking her hand and bowed to kiss it. His lips barely brushed her knuckles.

“I either, Princess Cove, but that was not the life we were given.” Duty to the royal family meant a lot to him. As a knight, it was ingrained in his values. He would never cross that line even if his heart yearned for her.

He leaned forward and murmured directly in her ear, “Maybe one day, a princess with her guard will be normal and accepted. I can only hope we see those days.” His breath tickled the shell of her ear.

“One day,” she echoed.

“Do you want me to get your cloak ready?” He asked. She nodded her head. After galas, she made it a tradition to go for a walk and decompress after the evening’s events.

She watched his figure leave the room. “One day,” she said to herself.

“Covelle, how is the gala going for you?” Louisa had walked up beside her so silently, she didn’t hear her approach. “Oh it’s fine, Louisa. Just like all the others.”

“You know, I never see you as happy on the dance floor as when you move with Thorne. That boy is quite handsome, isn’t he?” Louisa knew exactly what she was doing. Acknowledging the close bond they have without saying it directly. “It isn’t even his looks that made me fall for him. If it were, I would have fallen a long time ago.”

“It was not always romantic then?” Louisa asked. “I have a duty to my parents and my people. There will never be anything more than a platonic, professional relationship.” It must have been the robotic way she recited the line that she recounted often because Louisa did not buy it.

“Covelle! Do not say such nonsense to me. I have watched you grow up. I know you as much as your mother does.”

Cove could never get anything past Louisa. “I’ve always loved him but I wasn’t always in love. In the past couple of years, whatever we are has developed.”

“I have liked that boy since the beginning. I knew even back when you were children that you would be great friends. I was the one who selected Thorne.” When Cove didn’t say anything, she added, “with your mother and father’s approval, of course.”

While Cove knew Louisa suggested a personal guard to be raised with her, she had no clue that she had picked him. “I’m expected to marry a royal. It is law.”

“Yes, those silly rules.” Louisa opened her mouth but closed it, like she thought better of what she was about to say. “I expect you to be with who you love, if that counts for anything.”

This woman from the beginning of Cove’s life had been an important figure. Her parents took Louisa’s suggestions seriously and they usually got carried out. The Royal children learning defense and training? Louisa’s suggestion. Person guard for Cove? Louisa. She’s always been there.

“Oh Louisa, it does. You have raised me and my siblings alongside my parents. You are our honorary second mother.” A softness passed over her face. “You are my children. All of you.” Her expression, so tender and full of emotion. Eyes glazed over. Cove took her hand. “Louisa, you have inspired me so much, in more ways than you know.”

Louisa started to respond but Cove couldn’t hear any of the words.

Boots stomping on the hard floor filled her ears. A sound she knew. When Gen taught her and her siblings defense, the large formations of Allaver’s soldiers marched and it sounded similar. While that stomping was disciplined and orderly, this was chaos.

“Louisa, what’s happening?” Cove asked, seeing befuddled expressions on everyone’s faces.

“Covelle, you need to go now.” Louisa didn’t look confused or afraid. Neutral like nothing strange will happen.

Cove found her siblings’ gazes. Hale already unsheathed her blade and so had Amerie. Both glinting under the glimmering light.

(I just love writing about Kent and Flent! Next will be Cove.) ———

Ever since their first meeting, they talked at every gala. Cove must have noticed them both gone at the same time or her magical ability of knowing everything because she adamantly threw out Flent’s name as a regular at events.

“You should come to Gallia someday. You would love it. I would love to see you there. It is the best place on this world.” He wanted Kent in his home kingdom? Kent would love nothing more.

“You are always my favorite part of these galas,” Flent admitted. “You are mine,” Kent smiled before he recognized how that might sound. “I mean, my favorite part of these things too.”

Flent chuckled. “I know what you intended, though I may be slightly disappointed that you didn’t mean the first statement.” Kent stilled. Everything stopped. All functions halted.

No verbal response could convey what he felt. He instead held out his arm for their form of affection. Flent followed and knocked their forearms together. When Kent would usually drop his arms to his side and they would go back to the gala happening nearby, he surged his arm forward, breaking the ‘x’ formation, and grabbed Flent’s silly, striped collar and kissed him.

Time stopped. No one would be able to convince him that it didn’t.

If he had to describe their kiss in one word, it would be miraculous.

He felt everything and nothing all at once. Happiness, euphoria, and desire hit him full force. At the same time, his brain was completely goo.

Other than his hand that gripped Flent’s shirt, his other hand paused before finding home at his waist.

They broke apart but not far, heavily breathing, sharing the warm air. “Like I said that day, you are a miracle,” Flent said.

“Your miracle, I hope.” For a brief moment, he worried he went too fast and that he embarrassed himself forever and could never show his face ever again. “That has a nice ring to it,” Flent agreed. Kent’s cheeks hurt from how wide he smiled.

“As much as I want to stay here, we should go back in,” Kent said.

“You are probably right. You go in first and then I’ll follow a minute later.” Flent interlocked their fingers as Kent moved further away, their hands suspended between them before the distance grew between them.

Kent walked back into the gala with a pep in his step, practically floating on the ground.

“My son, where were you?” His father pinned him with his eyes. His father had the bluest eyes, like a crystalized piece of the sky. And right now those stared directly into his soul.

Kent shrugged his shoulders, avoiding those curious eyes. A large hand planted on his shoulder, near his collarbone, forcing him to redirect his own gaze to his father.

“You disappeared from the gala and coincidentally so did Prince Flent.” His bushy eyebrows raised, expecting a response. “Ummm, we both needed a break from all of this,” Kent answered, arms gesturing around vaguely to the whole room.

“Kent, my son,” he started but stopped for a long beat. “I do not wish to offend you if this is incorrect or pressure you to confess anything, but if there was something between you two, your mother and I do not see a problem with it,” he continued. Kent’s mouth gaped open. If it would be physically possible, it would have been on the ground.

“We may be old, but we are not blind, Kent. If you are happy, that’s all that matters.” A prickling sensation stung behind his eyes. While he knew his parents accepted him and his siblings, it didn’t make it easier to say anything, especially since the rules did not specifically endorse that type of relationship.

“I love you, Dad.” “Love you, Kent.” He threw his arms around his father tightly. “You and Mom are the best.”

“I don’t know how you do everything—parenting and being king.” It was expected for royalty to provide heirs. Having children by necessity was not always a recipe for good parenting. Some royals or wealthy people use nannies and don’t raise their children. Kent and his siblings could easily be in that environment.

“Taking care of children and a kingdom use some of the same attributes. Love, respect, and having courage to do what’s best for your children or your people are what make a good dad and king. Not high status,” his dad explained.

Attention flickered to the dazzling crown that laid upon Kent’s head. “Kent, I hope you understand that it is the man or woman behind the crown that makes a good leader, not the title or crown.”

This sounded like a lesson for Cove, not for Kent. “Why are you telling me this? I’m third in line for the throne.” Unless something horrible occurred, Kent would not be king. He was all for being prepared, ready for anything that could happen, but these words were more fitted for Cove.

“I am telling you because this advice can be utilized in any leadership setting. You are a leader Kent. I can tell these things.” His father had a great judge of character. If he thought Kent could be a leader, he may actually be one.

“How do I know if I’m making the right decisions, Dad? How do I not disappoint anyone? Our people expect so much from us.” He certainly witnessed the public pressure when they did something unconventional. Even being a bystander to Della’s transition and Amerie’s ability, he got a taste of the mistreatment and unfairness of the world.

“In any aspect of that word, you could never. I can never ask more of you than your best.” The corners of his lips turned up. That was his father’s mantra to them.

“No matter what you or your siblings do, whether it’s about your career or romantic partners, you could never disappoint us.”

(This is Kent’s flashback. Next is finishing up Kent’s perspective and then it will be Cove.) ———

Three years ago….

“Mind if I join you?” Someone snapped Kent out of his quiet moment. Kent was sitting on the ground with his arms resting on his bent knees, taking a breather from the gala. His parents pushed for Cove to meet new men hence the gala. None good enough for his sister. All of them vied for his sister’s affection that was already a lost cause. Not with Thorne by her side.

“Sure. If you want,” Kent said. The bright, pastel green of the man’s suit caught his tired eyes. His eyes followed the movement of him plopping down next to him. “I talked my mother out of the red, geometric jacket, so the green was the better option, trust me.”

Kent let out a surprised laugh. Louder than he intended, his outburst bounced through the hallway. “The green was a good pick. Looks good.” Kent did not mean to say that last part out loud even though it was very, very true.

A smile grew on this stranger’s face while Kent felt awkward. “Flent of Gallia.” His hand opened, held out to shake. After a couple of seconds to compute, Kent scrambled to shake Flent of Gallia’s hand. “Wait,” Kent paused, taking in the name. “Flent as in the prince of Gallia?!”

Flent waved his other name to stop him from apologizing. “Yes, but you can call me Flent. Just Flent. No prince or titles.” Kent nodded his head. “Ok Pri-Flent. Then you can call me Kent,” he said. Mr. Nevyle pounded into them that formal titles displayed respect and drilled them repeatedly until it became second nature.

Flent shifted his body more to face Kent. With that movement, Kent realized that their hands were still locked in a handshake. He dropped Flent’s hand like he burned him. Honestly, with how hot Kent felt, he might as well have.

“Cove does not want to get married, does she?” Flent asked. Kent shrugged. “What she wants is to do her duty to Allaver.”

“You don’t have to sugarcoat it for me. She obviously does not want to. I get it. My parents have been looking for a suitable person that could rule beside me ever since I was born.” Kent let out a sigh of relief. “That’s exactly it. My parents don’t want to pressure her but most expected her to be already married.” Flent gave an understanding look to Kent before facing forward, gazing at the white tile of the floor.

A comfortable silence blanketed them. Kent didn’t normally like soundless moments. They made him feel like he needed to come up with small talk to fill in the air. Something was different with Flent.

“The castle of Allaver is nice. Too bad there is a wall shielding it from everyone else, even their own citizens.” A feeling tugged at Kent’s gut. He knew he should defend the wall but he didn't have it in him to disagree. He settled for silence.

“Gallia has such colorful, diverse flowers and vegetation. Have you ever been?” The question shouldn’t make him feel bad but it does. “No. None of the royal children leave these walls.” Technically, Cove began to sneak out, but a secret among siblings goes to the grave.

“Do you wonder what it would be like, outside the castle?” Flent’s tone sounded genuine, not like he desired a specific response out of him. He asked because he wanted to know.

“Yes. I’ve seen paintings and read books but nothing can replace experiences which I am severely lacking in.”

Once again, neither of them said anything for a long minute. “Tell me about Gallia.”

Flent grinned, presumably thinking of his home. “Gallia is the prettiest place anyone could go.” Watching him describe Gallia mesmerized Kent. The way he spoke about this place made it sound magical. Flent animatedly ranted, using grand gestures with his arms, face lit up like a sunflower.

At one point, Flent banged his hand off the hard floor when talking about how big the fruit grew there. “Ouch. I guess you get my point about the apples.” He rubbed the sore area, the brightness dimming fast from him. Without even thinking, Kent reached over and placed his hand over Flent’s bruise. A white light glowed from his palm. “Whoa.”

“Sorry I should have warned you before I did that,” Kent apologized, rubbing the back of his neck, a little embarrassed. “No, it just took me by surprise. There are not many Miracles in Gallia.” Kent cringed at the name of healers. He thought of Amerie and how she was just as much a miracle as any of them.

“I apologize. I do not have much exposure with healers. I never saw it happen before,” Flent explained. “I meant no disrespect to Princess Amerie.” Hearing that did something to Kent’s heart that he would never admit.

“I appreciate that. Some people are not that kind. Miracle is just a weird term. I never saw myself as something so magnificent and life changing like a miracle.” The word ‘miracle’, not the title, reminded him of the plague dying down which was his mother’s doing. He didn’t feel deserving of the word when he didn’t do anything to get this ability.

“I don’t know. I think you are one. A miracle.”

His heart definitely skipped. He couldn’t hear anything over his rapidly pounding heartbeat in his ears.

That night was the first time they did the affectionate Gallian gesture.