We had found refuge in the bones of the old temple, one of the last forged links between the two kingdoms. The war had started over ten years ago, on the eve of my twelfth birthday. I’d been playing in the meadow, just beyond the castle, when a tremor had shaken the earth, and clouds black as night choked the sky. The temple had been hit—the first casualty of many—a statement from the other side that they no longer desired peace. From then on, I’d been brought up to hate them—the Others. And I did hate them. All of them... until I met her. My Jude. Ben and Mason had come with word that The Others had retreated. A treaty signed. The Other King dead. Poison had ended his life—slowly, painful—and the guards had found his daughter, Jude, my Jude... beside him... her life a fingertip from the hands of the reaper. I’d stared at Jude for a long while after they brought her in. At the dull tint of her usually radiant, bronze skin. The dark circles beneath her eyes. The dry, cracked crevices of her mouth, the corners stained a deathly scarlet. Under the flickering candlelight, I had thought it was blood at first, but she had no other wounds. “We found her next to the Other King,” Nelly had said. “And yes, he's dead. But here, give me your hand, dear.” I had willed my gaze to meet hers. The nurse had been by my side for as long as I could remember. She’d been there through every cold and skimmed knee, and she’d been there to care for me when I sprained my ankle after the first time I’d snuck out to meet Jude. I trusted her wholeheartedly. After a moment of hesitation, I let Nelly take my hand, and gently, she brought my fingers to Jude’s wrist. Her skin had felt cold—a sheet of thin, delicate ice. I hadn't wanted to press too hard, not wanting her to shatter. “It’s faint,” Nelly said softly, “but there is still a pulse,” And I’d felt it. The precious thump-thump of life. Of Jude. “She's still alive, Rose.” A cacophony of emotions had crescendoed all at once... Elation. Confusion. Relief. Anger. ...Each fighting for the right to the first chair. But it was fear that won. A late audition but just as powerful. I had to take a moment outside. Among the toppled gravestones and skeletal, leafless trees, the old temple didn't look so out of place. More than a pile of rubble, broken domed windows, shattered and shards of glass stretched high and wide like pairs of opened arms. Wild, yellow flowers climbed over the grey lacerated stone walls. Tall grasses grew, swaying and rustling in the breeze. I tilted my head towards the sky, and the broken splinters of the remaining roof tiles caught the moon's light. White, they shone like teeth—a guarding, gnashing beast of their own. This was where the war had begun. And this was where the war would end. With Jude alive. Taking a deep breath, I let the crisp autumn night burn away the fear in my throat. The stars winked. The moon smiled. I returned to Jude's side. The red of her lips had darkened. Thin veins now cracked across her skin, pulsing like rivulets of lava. Bracing myself, I asked, “What did she take?” “By the colourisation,” Nelly pondered, “I’d say Seuphus. In small doses, it can put someone into a sleep-like coma.” “And in large doses?” Mason asked from behind. His pale hands had found their way to the cutlass at his hip, the tips of his fingers working the ribbon tied around the hilt, his usual solution for settling his nerves. “Well,” Nelly lifted a shoulder. “you saw the late king.” “How do we fix this? How...” I brushed Jude’s cheek. “How can we wake her?” “A true kiss.” Heat flushed every crevice of my body, and I ignored the sharp twitch of Mason’s smirk. I stuttered. “Pardon?” “A True Kiss flower. If we make a paste from its petals, it should counteract the poison.” “And bring her back?” “And bring her back.” Nelly echoed. “Where do we get one?” Taking a step back, Nelly held out both her arms. “The garden. They're everywhere.” “Outside?” “That’s handy,” Ben said dryly. “That’s a godsend,” said Mason. But Nelly grabbed my hand and squeezed. “That’s Jude,” she whispered. “That girl, she’s brilliant. She knew what she was doing. We can save her.” As soon as her words struck, Mason and Ben rushed outside, returning moments later with handfuls of the bright, yellow flowers. A True Kiss flower. Taking the sprigs, the three of us watched, a collective breath held, as Nelly placed them on the marble floor and ground them into a thick, lumpy paste. She smeared a coin-side blob into Jude's mouth. A second passed. I trusted Nelly. A minute passed. I did trust Nelly... Two minutes passed. I didn’t— “Why isn't it working?” I growled. “Just wait,” Nelly whispered. “I’ve been waiting!” I snapped. A tear fell from my cheek, landing just above Jude's eyebrow. “Sorry, Nelly, I—” She touched my arm. Smiled. Squeezed. It wasn't her fault; I knew that. It wasn't anyone's fault but the Other King’s. Pressure pushed the sides of my head, igniting the start of a headache. I rested my head lightly on Jude's chest. A faint ba-dum. A last ember of life. How long would it last? “I’m sorry,” I murmured, my breath hot against her cold jacket. I closed my eyes.“Please come back. I-I need you.” “Rose, look!” I didn't want to, I wanted to lay here forever, but two hands pulled me up, steadying my dead weight. Jude coughed. Then she groaned, her head lulling softly to the side. Her eyes opened, catching the light of the nearby candle. They glistened like gold. I caught her gaze, dumbstruck, and she smiled. “Miss me much?” Jude croaked, her voice more beautiful than bird song. My heart twisted. She laughed, and if I hadn't been so relieved to see her alive, I might have laughed too. But I kissed her instead, not caring about the stares.