Author's Preface
Kyra and Jysarra had spent the hours between Brighthollow and Aurenhold delighting one another with conversation and taking turns thoroughly annoying the coachman. Anyone who just so happened to pass within earshot of the carriage would have certainly overheard bouts of Kyra’s boisterous laughing and Jysarra’s giggling. Presently they had settled into a comfortable conversation about Jysarra’s time away from Brighthollow.
“Tell me more about the north. The untamed wilderness, the mechanical marvels of Samareia, and Hellas have always intrigued me.”
“The stars are strange there, though no less beautiful. I spent over a year wandering the streets of Athenas simply marveling at its beauty.”
Kyra laid her hand high upon Jysarra’s arm.
“Stop. You’re making me jealous. I’ve only been fortunate enough to travel around the kingdom.”
“I would have thought a family such as yours would have seen the world.”
“It was planned, but when tensions between Dalmascus and Archadia began at the turn of the century it was decided best to forego those plans.”
Jysarra had settled during the long carriage ride, or at least Kyra felt as though she had. As amusing as it could be to have her on the proverbial backfoot, Kyra did not want Jysarra fighting for her life at all times around her. No, she wanted the unique brand of charm and flirtation that Jysarra brought from the moment they met yesterday morning.
Gods, has it truly only been a day and a half?
Jysarra took Kyra’s hand from her arm and laid a gentle kiss on her fingers. Every coherent thought promptly abandoned Kyra.
“Perhaps I could show you one day.”
“Planning to whisk me away on a romantic interlude? Or kidnap me from my overbearing family?”
Kyra threw a hand to her forehead in mock exasperation and fell back into the seat. Jysarra laughed and pulled her back upright.
“Dramatics do not suit you, Kyra Kiermann. Stick to being the beautiful pain in my ass that you have been since we met.”
Kyra’s mouth hung agape, though her eyes sparkled with amusement.
“Do you charm all the girls with such language?”
Jysarra’s lips pulled into a wicked grin. She threaded her hair behind a pointed ear, leaned in close so that her breath ghosted over Kyra’s throat, and whispered so low into Kyra’s ear it was more the idea of her words than the words themselves.
“No… I make them come undone with a look.”
Jysarra’s fingers danced high across Kyra’s leg where it escaped the dress.
“And just the perfect amount of touch.”
Oh fuck me.
“Pardon me, my lady.”
The coachman’s voice broke through the haze of thoughts running through Kyra’s head. Jysarra leaned back against the seat with a rather triumphant smile on her face. Oh, absolutely not. She was so going to make Jysarra pay for that utterly criminal moment of teasing.
“Yes?” her voice cracked as the word left her lips.
“We’ll be arriving at Aurenhold within the next few minutes.”
“Thank you, good sir.”
Kyra collected herself, then opened the window nearest her. The warm summer breeze drifted in like a wave off the sea. She turned back toward Jysarra and extended her hand.
“Come sit with me. I want you to see the estate when we crest the hill.”
Kyra slid further into the cabin just enough for Jysarra to slide into the space between the window and herself. Jysarra glanced back at Kyra and her lips parted to deliver what was surely another round of charm and teasing, but she seemed to think better of it and cast her gaze out the open window. Kyra leaned in close, the ends of Jysarra’s hair brushing against her arm, and let her chin come to rest over Jysarra’s shoulder.
The horses huffed with effort as the carriage finally crested the hill and Aurenhold came into view. It was palatial compared to the manor in Brighthollow. Kyra was never one to flaunt her family’s good fortune, but she couldn’t help but be left in awe whenever they traveled to the estate. Aurenhold itself was three stories of pale stone brushed gold beneath the setting sun. Twin wings stretched from the central structure like open arms while countless windows glittered against the landscape. Beyond the manor lay gardens, orchards, and stands of ancient trees so carefully tended that they appeared part of the estate itself.
Jysarra turned her head just enough to catch Kyra’s eye.
“Sunshine, you didn’t tell me you were rich rich .”
Kyra’s chest tightened. She knew it was meant as a lighthearted jest, but part of it stung all the same. She regained her composure as quickly as it had fled, though not fast enough as Jysarra had obviously picked up on it. She turned fully now in her seat toward Kyra and took her hand.
“I didn’t mean to offend.”
“It’s all right. Truly. It’s just that I’ve known too many young nobles with over inflated egos because of their family’s wealth and position.”
Kyra forced a smile onto her face, though as she brought her gaze back to Jysarra it became anything but forced.
“I won’t pretend I despise the comfort and security my family’s wealth provides, but I don’t want to be that person.”
“I don’t think you need to worry yourself about that, Kyra. You’re a good person.”
Kyra drew in on herself. Not out of shame or embarrassment, but from being seen. Truly and utterly seen. She supposed it was one of the qualities she was so attracted to in Jysarra. She didn't care who she was, only the type of person Kyra was. Jysarra was so unashamedly herself. Genuine. In Kyra's experience, that was an exceedingly rare quality. It was ridiculously attractive.
A few short minutes later the carriage rolled across crushed stone, coming to a stop before stone stairs long weathered with age. Nine pillars, each with nine sides engraved with heraldry of one of the great houses of old Avalonia, rose up to meet the roof overhead. Music drifted on the breeze from the gardens and Kyra found herself wondering how well Jysarra’s sword dancing translated to actual dancing. As the footman opened the door and extended his hand, Kyra turned to Jysarra.
“I need you to promise me something.”
Jysarra cocked an eyebrow.
“That sounds ominous, sunshine.”
“Oh, it is. Truly diabolical.”
A laugh fluttered out of Kyra.
"Promise you'll dance with me. Just once. That's all I want from this evening–"
Kyra felt heat rush to her cheeks.
"–is you in my arms on the dance floor.”
Jysarra’s eyes fluttered closed and a blush rose in her cheeks.
“Well, when you put it like that, how can I possibly say no?”
Kyra took Jysarra’s hand and led them out of the carriage. Crushed stone shifted beneath their feet as they made their way toward the stairs. She walked them over to the line of couples near the door awaiting their turn to be announced. Just ahead of them was Baron Fleischmann, his wife Crescentia, and their daughter Isolde. Jysarra’s eyes went wide and she turned to look down at the stone steps.
“Is everything all right?”
Jysarra chewed at her lip.
“Let’s just say Baron Fleischmann is not particularly fond of me.”
Kyra tilted her head quizzically.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.” Jysarra huffed out a breath. “I may have charmed my way into Isolde’s bedchamber.”
“May have?”
Jysarra flashed a smile that was all teeth. Kyra shook her head, amused.
“Well, my mother always said that the best way through a difficult situation is head on.”
She saw Jysarra open her mouth to protest, but Kyra turned back before the words could come.
“Baron Fleischmann. Lady Crescentia. So good to see you again.”
The Fleischmanns turned toward Kyra. Their expressions fell the moment they laid eyes on Jysarra.
“I believe you’ve already met Jysarra. She’s my date for this evening.”
Jysarra gave a small wiggle of her fingers, the same nervous grimace splayed across her face. Baron Fleischmann turned redder than a ripe tomato. Kyra could swear she saw smoke rising from the man’s ears. Lady Crescentia, looking nearly as distressed as her husband, was trying, and mostly failing, to calm him before a scandal could occur. Isolde, meanwhile, shuffled from foot to foot as she stole glances at Jysarra.
“Lady Isolde, I heard you and Jysarra were quite well acquainted.”
Jysarra shot Kyra a look of complete and utter surprise. Kyra smiled back at her, wide and thoroughly amused with herself. She turned back toward Isolde who had turned a similar shade of red as her father.
“I do so hope to become acquainted with her myself.” Kyra curtsied to Baron and Lady Fleischmann. “My lord. My lady. Please, enjoy the party.”
With that Kyra looped her arm around Jysarra’s and walked them past the threshold and into the estate proper, the angry grumbling of both Lord and Lady fading into the background. From the landing she could see too many familiar faces to count gathered below in the Grand Hall. Duke Rodrik Reiss and his wife Lady Annika of House Rebstock, Lord Magnus Brightwood & his wife Lady Helene of House Tiedemann, Lord Conrad Feuerstein & his wife Lady Ingrid of House Brightwood, Lord Arend Sturmwind, Countess Ilse Blumberg, Lord Rainer Hauke, Lord Bastian Kiermann, and Arcanist Malady Romilius, amongst others. To her great disdain she also spied Captain Jarrett Dallmann lingering near the doors to the garden.
When Kyra brought them to a halt near the top of the stairs she finally turned to see Jysarra. She was flushed and the look etched onto her face was somewhere between awe and embarrassment.
“You enjoyed that far too much,” Jysarra said.
“Whatever do you mean? I was simply introducing us to some of our honored guests.”
Pay back for teasing me in the carriage.
A liveried herald stood beside the doors with a ledger tucked beneath one arm. Each arriving guest paused briefly to provide their names before being announced to the assembly within. He turned to Kyra and Jysarra as the couple just announced descended into the hall.
"Lady Kyra Kiermann," the herald said with a polite bow. "And your companion, my lady?"
Kyra turned to Jysarra and looked up at her. She couldn’t help but smile widely.
“Lady Jysarra Kil’rahel.” She laid her hand on Jysarra’s. “She is my honored guest.”
The herald wrote hastily into the ledger and turned toward the hall. Jysarra leaned in to whisper in Kyra’s ear.
“I’m sorry, what is happening?”
“We’re being announced. Is this truly your first event of this sort?”
Jysarra’s eyes were wide and scanning the crowd below.
“As a rule I tend to avoid anything that the nobility flock to.”
Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. Kyra gave her hand a squeeze.
“Just follow my lead.”
"Lady Kyra Kiermann and her honored guest, Lady Jysarra Kil'rahel."
Every eye in the hall turned to them. Jysarra’s grip went rigid on Kyra’s forearm. In truth, she felt just as nervous as Jysarra seemed to be. Everyone was watching not because she was Kat’s little sister, but because she had never attended an event with anyone on her arm. Kyra was certainly giving everyone, noble and commoner alike, something to gossip about in secret for days. The mere thought would once have been enough to send her into a barely controlled panic and running for the safety of her bedroom, but not today. Not with Jysarra on her arm. She wanted everyone to see them together.
Kyra took the first step, Jysarra joining her a moment later. Then the next. And the next. She glanced at Jysarra and couldn’t stop from grinning. Kyra drew herself just that much closer to Jysarra. Gods, she must look like one of those lovestruck girls she had spent so much time ridiculing under her breath at every ball, party, and feast she’d been forced to attend over the years. Karma, it seemed, had a wicked sense of humor.
As they neared the bottom Kat stood beside Van near the foot of the stairs, impossible to miss even among the gathered nobility.
Kat was dressed in a gown similar to Kyra's, though hers was rendered in deep Kiermann blue. Gold embroidery traced the seams, collar, cuffs, and front closure, while subtle floral and geometric motifs woven into the fabric added texture without ostentation. Her silhouette, however, spoke of authority and control. A broad dark leather belt cinched her waist, secured by an ornate gold clasp. Dark locks were swept into an intricate bun held in place by gold hairpins and delicate ornaments. A few carefully arranged strands framed her face, softening what might otherwise have been an intimidating appearance. Long sleeves gave way to black gloves, and a folded fan rested lightly in her right hand.
Van, on the other hand, looked as if she had picked a fight with formalwear and won. She had clearly made an effort for the occasion, but the ensemble was still unmistakably her. A charcoal-black riding coat trimmed with red-brown accents at the lapels, cuffs, and lining fell to mid-thigh. Tailored through the shoulders and torso, it emphasized her broad frame and athletic build. The high collar stood partially open, as though she had already loosened it at least once that evening. Beneath it she wore a black lace-front shirt, the neckline open enough to suggest that strict propriety had never ranked particularly high among Van’s priorities. A broad leather corset-belt cinched her waist, secured by a series of buckles. Fitted dark trousers disappeared into tall brown riding boots that rose nearly to her knees. The leather was well cared for but clearly well traveled, bearing the sort of wear earned through use rather than fashion. Fingerless gloves completed the look.
Kyra curtsied before Kat and Jysarra bowed her head just enough to register as respectful.
“Your dress is exquisite, Your Highness,” Kyra said. “You remind me of Mother when I was young.”
She was unable to keep her voice from faltering as the words left her mouth. A wave of melancholy washed over Kyra at that thought. She had been her mother’s shadow at these events, though Cassandra had always seemed delighted to have Kyra by her side. She missed that deeply.
Kat handed her champagne flute to Van and took a step toward Kyra and Jysarra.
“The two of you make quite a stunning pair. The gossip rags will be having a field day tomorrow.”
Jysarra laid a hand on Kyra’s shoulder.
“Hopefully they spell my name correctly.”
Kyra huffed, a small amused sound.
“I’m going to steal your guest away for a moment. Keep Van company.”
Kat didn’t wait for a reply. She took Jysarra by the arm and began leading her into the press of the crowd. Kyra took a step and reached out after them, but stilled when Jysarra glanced back and gave her a soft wave. Van sidled up next to her and offered the extra glass. Kyra took it without question and downed the remaining champagne in one swallow.
“You clean up well, peanut.”
“As do you.”
Van pawed at the back of her neck.
“Yeah, well, I can make an effort when the situation calls for it. Besides, she's worth it.”
Kyra let her eyes drift back over the crowd until she found Jysarra again. She and Kat were posted up near the refreshments.
The moonlit blue of her gown stood out even among the sea of nobles and finery.
“Yes," Kyra said softly. "She certainly is.”
"You smile a lot when you talk about her."
"I do not."
"Peanut."
Kyra pointedly avoided looking in her direction.
"You really do."
She was, in fact, smiling widely as she watched Jysarra now. She couldn’t help it. Jysarra was captivating. Her presence was intoxicating.
“I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I’m honestly not sure what to do with that.”
“Have you tried kissing her?”
Van bumped her shoulder against Kyra’s.
“Van.” Kyra sighed. “Yes, in fact, I did.”
Jysarra and Kat were making their way back toward the pair.
“It didn’t exactly go well.”
“Well, try again.”
Van strode straight to Kat, took her by the hand, and pulled her into a kiss. Kat blushed, faintly, but Kyra saw it. She was so happy for the two of them. After years together and many trials, they still loved one another just as they had when they first met. Just like her parents had.
Kyra wanted that.
Kat composed herself and threaded her arm through Van’s.
“Father is out by the reflecting pool. You should go see him.”
Kat and Van strode off in the direction of Duke Rodrik Reiss, likely to discuss some matter that would bore Van to tears. Jysarra’s hand found its way into Kyra’s, snapping her attention back to her.
“Did you miss me?”
“I did.”
Kyra stopped one of the servants walking by and took two champagne flutes from the tray he was carrying. She handed one to Jysarra and gave her a soft tug.
“Come, darling, I want you to meet my father.”
Jysarra took a long drink from her champagne. Just as she had the previous night, she swiped her tongue across her bottom lip to catch a stray drop. That had a rather profound effect on Kyra’s resolve.
That… was not fair.
“Meeting your father already, am I? Careful sunshine, a girl might start to think you like her.”
“A girl would be right to think so.”
Kyra caught the momentary crack in Jysarra’s expression at that. The way she chewed at her lip, her pupils swallowing the beautiful violet of her eyes. It didn’t take an expert to see that Jysarra struggled with intimacy and vulnerability. What she couldn't do, however, was completely hide how she felt. It was the small tells that gave her away. And Kyra had grown to love every single one of them already.
“What did Kat have to say?”
“She… apologized to me.”
Kyra cocked an eyebrow.
“I know, it frightened me as well,” Jysarra said with a smirk.
“Oh stop, she’s not that terrifying.”
Kyra took Jysarra by the arm and led her along the edge of the room and out a set of double doors into the garden proper. A dance floor had been erected over the lawn just off the terrace, where couples of all sorts danced to the soft melody of string instruments.
A dozen musicians sat beneath a pavilion near the edge of the lawn. Violins carried the melody while violas, cello, bass, harp, and a lone flute wove harmony beneath it. Beyond them was the open lawn that eventually gave way to the reflecting pool, memorial grove, and finally the orchard and tree line.
Kyra spotted her father standing beside one of the old stone benches. A long navy coat fell nearly to his calves, its expensive fabric embroidered with subtle gold detailing along the cuffs, lapels, and hems. Once immaculate, it now bore the faint signs of frequent wear. Beneath it sat a dark brocade waistcoat fastened with brass buttons, its intricate pattern visible only when the light caught it just right. His white shirt hung open at the collar, abandoning some of the formality expected of his station. Dark trousers disappeared into tall riding boots worn smooth by years of use. Hair once dark now carried heavy streaks of silver and fell in loose waves no longer kept quite as neatly as it once had been. A few rebellious strands curled near his temples. His beard remained well kept, though no longer meticulously trimmed.
“Father.”
For a moment Kyra wondered if he had heard her at all. Then, he turned slowly, recognition dawning on him. A small smile that did not reach his eyes formed. He took a step and wrapped an arm loosely around her.
“Kyra, there’s my Little Dove.”
Kyra melted into the embrace, lacking as it was. She didn’t fault him for it. She pulled back just enough to look up at him. She reached up and brushed one of the stray locks from his face.
“How have you been?”
His hands came up to rest on her shoulders and a soft sigh escaped him.
“You worry yourself too much about my well-being. I assure you that Melesse is doing more than is necessary to ensure I don’t fade away here.”
He looked at Jysarra.
“And who’s your friend?”
Kyra took a step back, took Jysarra’s hand, and pulled her in to stand beside her.
"This is Jysarra." Kyra looked up at her. "She's my guest."
A beat passed.
"No," Kyra corrected herself. "She's my date."
Tobias's gaze moved from Kyra to Jysarra and back again. His smile turned into something bordering on real.
“I am happy for you. Lady Jysarra, a pleasure to meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine, my lord.”
Jysarra reached out for his hand and brought it to her lips.
“Tobias, please. Katarina is the one befitting all the pleasantries of a titled noble.”
“I see where Kyra gets her sense of humility and candor.”
Kyra slowly looked up at Jysarra, clearly trying to determine whether she'd just been complimented.
“It’s a good thing, sunshine.”
Kyra narrowed her eyes and hummed softly. The sound carried all the skepticism of a spoken response.
“Young love is such a wonderful sight to behold.”
Kyra’s eyes went wide at her father’s words. Jysarra’s grip tightened so much it bordered on painful. She turned and drained her champagne flute in one long swallow.
“Yes. Well, I believe we need to finish our rounds of the party.”
“Of course. It was good to see you again.”
Kyra stepped into Tobias again and wrapped her arms around him tight. He returned the gesture a moment later, though his touch was soft, distant. She choked back a sob as they parted. He turned to Jysarra and clasped her hand in his own.
"Take care of her for me, would you?"
"Father!"
Tobias smiled faintly.
"She's inherited entirely too much of her mother's stubbornness."
Jysarra gave her a knowing wink. Kyra simply sighed and shrugged her shoulders in mock defeat.
“I will.”
Jysarra’s hand found hers again and they crossed the lawn back toward the dance floor.
“I apologize for his comment about young love. I could tell it bothered you.”
Jysarra didn’t say anything for a moment, but her brow furrowed. They came to a stop before reaching the terrace. Kyra felt the tremor in Jysarra’s hands.
“It’s all right that it bothered you.”
Kyra could almost see the metaphorical wheels turning in Jysarra’s head. She had figured this would be a sensitive topic, at best, but now it seemed she may have undersold just how much it might affect her. Finally, Jysarra stirred.
"It's complicated," Jysarra said, her voice faltering. "Love, I mean."
Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears.
Kyra let her fingers drift up and down the length of her arm hoping to sooth her. Jysarra shut her eyes a moment, swallowed hard, and took in a breath. When she opened them again she glanced back at Tobias.
“I can see where you get your smile.”
“He smiled more before Mother died.”
Kyra looked back toward the reflecting pool. Tobias stood rooted in place, his gaze distant.
“My father never truly recovered from my mother's death. In truth, it broke all of us in some way. Kat was thrust into a position of power at my age. It couldn't have been easy shouldering that responsibility. The legacy that came with it. Not to mention a grieving father and a younger sister who seemed intent on falling apart."
Jysarra reached over and brushed a stray lock of hair from Kyra’s face.
“You were all grieving an unimaginable loss. I'm sorry you had to go through that.”
Kyra took Jysarra’s hand and pressed it to her cheek.
“You always know the exact right thing to say.”
The musicians shifted into something slower, softer. The lanternlight strung throughout the gardens cast the dance floor in warm gold while laughter and conversation drifted beneath the summer night sky. Kyra guided Jysarra back toward the gathering before the other woman could think better of it.
Jysarra’s fingers tightened around hers.
“Kyra…”
“You promised me one dance.”
“That was before I realized half the nobility in Brighthollow would be present.”
Kyra smiled faintly.
“You survived a werewolf for me. I think you can survive a few old women with wine.”
Jysarra shot her a look, though it lacked any real heat. Still, Kyra could feel the tension in her. Jysarra’s shoulders were stiff beneath her touch and her violet eyes kept drifting toward the crowd gathered around the dance floor.
They knew who she was.
Or at least what she was.
Kyra could almost see the thoughts turning behind Jysarra’s eyes. Every glance became judgment. Every whisper became condemnation. The moonlit blue dress she wore suddenly seemed less like something chosen and more like armor.
Kyra stepped closer before Jysarra could retreat.
“Dance with me.”
Jysarra exhaled softly through her nose before finally relenting.
“All right.”
The moment they joined the others it became immediately obvious Jysarra was trying to lead.
Not overtly. Most watching likely would not have noticed it at all. But Kyra felt it in every movement. The subtle pressure of her hand. The hesitation whenever Kyra attempted to guide them elsewhere. The need to maintain control.
Kyra resisted just enough to be difficult.
Jysarra narrowed her eyes.
“Are you doing this intentionally?”
“I have no idea what you mean.”
“You absolutely do.”
Kyra bit back a smile as Jysarra attempted another turn only for Kyra to redirect them smoothly across the floor. Jysarra’s composure cracked for half a second in visible annoyance.
Gods, she was adorable.
Unfortunately, the dance itself was beginning to suffer for it. Their steps fell out of rhythm. Jysarra nearly collided with another couple before catching herself at the last moment.
“Do you want to stop?” Jysarra asked quietly.
Kyra stilled.
“Jessie.”
Jysarra looked at her then.
“Just keep looking at me.”
For a moment the noise of the party seemed distant. The music. The laughter. The hundreds of watching eyes.
A breath passed between them.
“No one else matters.”
Something in Jysarra’s expression shifted.
Not all at once. Kyra watched it happen slowly. The tension in her shoulders eased first. Then the tightness around her eyes softened. The hand in Kyra’s relaxed.
And finally, Jysarra let her lead.
Kyra guided her gently across the dance floor, smiling when Jysarra followed without resistance this time. She spun her beneath the lanternlight and the silver threading in her moonlit blue gown shimmered like starlight. Jysarra laughed softly, quiet and breathless, as though surprised the sound had escaped her at all.
There she is.
Kyra pulled her back in and felt Jysarra’s hand settle more securely against her shoulder now, no longer defensive. Trusting.
Gods.
Kyra spun her once more before dipping her low.
The movement drew a startled breath from Jysarra. Her silver hair spilled like moonlight and her violet eyes widened as they locked onto Kyra’s own. For one suspended heartbeat she looked utterly undone.
Not guarded.
Not composed.
Just... vulnerable.
And beautiful.
Kyra’s chest tightened painfully.
The world around them disappeared.
There was only Jysarra beneath her hands and the terrifying realization that Kyra wanted her far more than she ought to.
Movement beyond Jysarra’s shoulder finally pulled Kyra back to herself.
Katarina and Vanja stood near the edge of the gardens watching them.
Vanja looked openly delighted, her grin completely unrestrained as she caught Kyra’s eye. Katarina was more difficult to read. Her expression remained composed, but there was something conflicted in her gaze. Concern perhaps. Worry.
But also relief.
As though she had not seen Kyra this happy in a very long time.
Kyra straightened Jysarra slowly, though neither of them immediately let go.
Jysarra’s cheeks had taken on the faintest shade of violet. Her breathing was uneven.
“Still wish to stop?” Kyra murmured.
Jysarra stared at her for a moment too long before answering.
“No.”
Glancing back she watched Kat stalk back into the estate, clearly agitated. Van motioned her over with all the glee of a child being given the choice of a new toy. Kyra laid a hand gently on Jysarra’s arm.
“I’ll be right back. I promise.”
Jysarra didn’t respond. She looked lost deep in thought. Kyra crossed the dance floor and Van swept her up into a bone-crushing hug.
“Peanut! That was amazing.” She dropped Kyra back to her feet. “So, did you kiss her?”
“Van… no, not yet,” Kyra said, warmth rising quickly through her.
“What are you waiting for? This is the moment.”
Kyra turned back to look in the direction she had come from. She spotted the silver waves of Jysarra's hair disappearing toward the flower gardens.
“What if she turns me down again?”
Van gave her hand a squeeze.
“Kyra, the girl clearly likes you. Go show her how much you like her.”
Kyra let out a breath, pulled herself up a little taller, and started off in Jysarra’s direction. She found her standing amongst the myriad of flowers with a sunflower in hand. She shook away the trembling in her hands and closed the distance.
“I was wondering where you got off to.”
Jysarra stood motionless, staring up into the moonlit sky. Kyra closed the distance and took Jysarra’s hand in hers. She stirred, looking down at their joined hands, then back up at Kyra. Kyra was smiling at her. Her other hand came up to rest on Jysarra’s cheek. Her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned into the touch.
“I don’t understand why you keep choosing me.”
“Because I want to.”
Kyra shifted from one foot to the other.
“Because you see me.”
Jysarra’s expression flickered for half a heartbeat.
“What are you thinking about?”
Jysarra’s eyes opened slowly. She looked at Kyra for a long moment without speaking. Those violet eyes searched hers as though trying to understand something that refused to make sense.
And then, for just a heartbeat, something in Jysarra’s expression cracked. Frustration. Fear. Longing. Kyra could not tell which.
Whatever it was, Jysarra did not look away.
“You.”
Kyra’s smile pulled into a smirk.
“Good answer.”
“Kyra, I—”
The words died on Jysarra’s tongue. Kyra’s hand brushed along her jaw before settling at the back of her neck. She felt Jysarra go still beneath her touch as Kyra rose slightly onto her toes.
Jysarra's eyes flicked down to her lips and lingered there.
Then Kyra kissed her.
Soft. Careful. Brief.
It was over almost before Kyra could process she had actually done it. She pulled back just enough to search Jysarra’s face, suddenly terrified she had misread everything.
Jysarra let out a shaky breath.
And then she pulled Kyra back in.
This time, she didn’t hesitate.