The shadows wrapped around them like a cloak as Adrian and Elara fled from the narrow street of the village, hearts pounding and lungs aflame. The moon far above in the sky cast silver light upon the trees, turning every branch and leaf into something otherworldly.Adrian's grip around Elara's wrist was fierce, his body heat holding her in place as fear seemed to try and take root. Behind them, the soft footsteps echoed through the air, whoever had been following behind didn't want to be noticed but weren't novice. "Don't turn around," Adrian was barely audible. "Back away.".Elara did not need to be persuaded. She had managed to catch the danger still lingering near in the air, like threads of smoke clinging to flesh. Whoever the darkness was, it had not arrived with mercy.They ran until lungs burned on a hacking gasp of air and quivering legs buckled, until curving, twisted slate roofs of the village vanished behind trees and enfolding stillness of the forest spread out before the
The sky was a dull grey when Adrian and Elara returned through the forest. Rain had not yet started to fall, but the wind was full of its scent—fresh, heavy, and unavoidable. There wasn't much to say on the way back. There wasn't any need for words. There was this growing sense of understanding between them, growing with every step they shared.Adrian walked a little closer now, not as guarded. His hand would occasionally brush against Elara's as they picked their way along the narrow trail between trees and roots. Every touch sent a shiver racing up her spine, but she said nothing, not wanting to break the spell of silence.It was raining by the time they reached the edge of Elara's cottage.“I’ll start a fire,” she said, pushing open the wooden door with her shoulder.Adrian hesitated for a second before stepping inside. Each time he entered this little home, it felt more like a place that belonged to him too. Not just her refuge—but theirs.Elara's pets woke up in the background, t
The next day dawned dark and quiet, the rain falling to a wispy mist that clung to cottage windows like a shroud. Elara was the first to awaken, waking to a squint through gray light as embers of the fire still flickered in the hearth. She strained to rise from the couch, the frayed blanket slithering down off of her shoulders, and gazed down at Adrian—out cold on the mat at her feet, his hand wedged under his head. She rose and regarded him for a very, very long time.He had slept younger. His angles softer. The peaks of his mourning, that he had worn hard, now softened themselves down to almost gentleness. Eyelashes on his cheekbones made a dark haven, and there was the rumpled tangled clump of black hair in this pillow on which his head lay last night.Elara moved quietly, not to wake him, when she moved quietly into the alcove kitchen and poured water from the kettle. The old stove creaked and spat with a patch of fire flame when Elara lit it. Raindrop and bird sang floated on bra
The following morning broke with a different radiance that neither Adrian nor Elara expected. The sky, washed bright by the rains of the previous days, burst into a stunning boundless expanse of pure blue. The light poured over fields and rooftops, turning raindrops left on branches into little stars. The forest sparkled like a phoenix.Elara leaned against the railing of her tiny garden, arms crossed over her chest, blowing back behind her on the wind. Adrian stood on the porch, watching as the sun fell over her hair and the rise and fall of her shoulders with each slow breath."Do you ever wonder what comes next?" he burst out suddenly, stepping off onto grass.Elara turned, eyebrows raised a little. "After what,Quiet. This place. Us."The word us fell between them, as gentle as dew. Elara waited before she said anything."I thought there was nothing after that. That this was all. All that was left. And then. now you appeared. And now I do not know. I think that is better."Adrian
The sun came up in the morning, rising quietly into the cottage, pushing softly between the curtains as a quiet guest. Its warmth brushed softly in gold upon the wood floorboards and rested upon the two forms that were curled up on the couch—Adrian's arm around Elara's shoulder, her head resting lightly upon his chest. The fire had died down by evening, but the heat between them was an unspoken promise that neither of them was yet courageous enough to voice.Adrian went first. He blinked up at the ceiling, stunned at the quiet emptiness in his chest. The familiar pull of fear, of regret, was somehow absent. All that lingered was the soft sound of Elara's breathing, and the faint scent of herbs and old books that clung to her like a second cloak.His arm locked around her a bit involuntarily, and Elara moved, her eyelashes flicking up as she looked up at him."Morning," she answered, voice still husky from sleep."Morning," he answered, his deep voice a bit gritty.They didn't budge.E
Morning broke in songbird trill—soft and entrancing, as if the woods themselves sang a living cradle song full of spring. Adrian slowly awakened, caught in the heat of Elara's blankets and the gentle cadence of her breathing against him. The light streamed through the lacy curtains, illuminating golden filigree on wooden walls. He didn't recall falling asleep. Only the stillness of her arms. The weight of her hand upon his heart.He rotated slowly, not wanting to disturb her. Elara was on her side, hair a matted halo around the pillow. Her face was serene, lips parted slightly, a tiny crease between her brows as though dreaming of something difficult.Adrian paused, then leaned in to smooth that crease out with his thumb. Her eyes flew wide at the touch. She blinked once, slowly, and smiled in a small, intimate manner."Morning," she whispered."Hey," he whispered. "You okay?"She nodded, stretching up like a cat. "Mmm. Just. a little sore."Adrian flushed, moving over to the window.
The morning air was fresh with the scent of dew and wildflowers that clung to Elara's cloak as she emerged to saddle the old mare. Adrian stood in the doorway, his gaze scanning the horizon where the ridges of the mountains blended into the road that led off far out into the village.Years since he'd been in the city. Years since he'd drawn its air, walked its crowded streets, or spoken aloud the name of his family. But now, the thought of returning didn't make his stomach turn to acid. It made his heart beat faster—but not out of fear.With resolve.Elara shifted, brushing hair from her forehead. "She's ready."Adrian descended, shaking his coat around himself. "You are?"A faint smile quivered on her lips. "Only if you are."They mounted the horse and rode together, side by side, the little cottage they'd, over years, made something more than home. It was home—a haven. Beyond them, the wood became less dense, showing wider paths, open fields, and the muffled rumble of encroaching ci
Sunlight streamed through the Lancaster house velvet curtains, golden-filtered, tempering the cold beauty chill that pervaded the atmosphere. Elara awakened first, slowly opening lids as senses grappled with sheer newness—the light linen sheeting over her, the polish and lavender scent, the quiet which wasn't quite that country quiet but was so much more sophisticated.She propped herself up, shifting slowly so she would not wake Adrian. The air was warm, and the room was too clean, far too clean. There was no songbird scratching on a window sill there to be heard; no groan of old wood above. It was lovely—it was irrefutable as that—but it was not home.Other than her, Adrian shifted. His heavy lashes brushed over pale cheeks, and his eyes opening created a moment of disorientation in their depths. She touched him with a light kiss on the temple."You're safe," she whispered.His lips curled into a parched smile. "I know. But somehow it still feels as though I'm dreaming I was trying
It began with the gentle touch of the wind across the windows of the cottage. Elara was in the kitchen, singing softly as she prepared tea. The air was filled with the scent of rosemary and chamomile, and the smell of rain on the horizon.Adrian entered, his hair still damp from washing, dressed in a simple linen shirt she had mended for him. He looked more himself these days—stronger, more present. The scars remained, as did the memories of his illness, but something within him had softened.“You’re up early,” Elara said, pouring him a cup without needing to ask.“I couldn’t sleep,” he replied with a small smile, accepting the cup. “The sky looks strange today. Like it’s holding its breath.”Elara glanced out the window, noticing the thickening clouds creeping in over the hills. “A storm is coming. It’ll be the first one of the season.”Adrian stepped behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. “Then we’ll weather it together.”They sat thus f
Soft light flooded the cottage, staining rose-gold stripes on wooden walls. Elara woke up before him, her face on Adrian's naked shoulder, his arm still wrapped around her. She didn't move for what seemed like an eternity—only heard the slow thump of his heart against her ear.It was their first morning as wife and husband.And yet, there was no urgency in the air, no rush to rise. The world outside could wait.Adrian's fingers moved gently through her hair as he blinked awake. He smiled, a rare and beautiful thing that had grown more frequent in the past weeks.“I was afraid I’d wake up and find it was all a dream,” he murmured, voice rough from sleep.Elara moved forward to gaze at him, her tired smile golden. "If it's so, I don't ever want to wake up."He pulled her to him, his lips on her forehead, softness that could not be imitated. "Then let's never wake up. Let's remain in this dream as long as possible."But outside the cottage, there was life—and always would be.By late mor
Spring entered the village unobtrusively. The sun poured down upon the hills benevolently, and the breeze brought the fragrance of wildflowers in bloom over the fields. Three weeks had passed since Adrian and Elara returned from the estate, and in those three weeks, they had started planning, step by step, for the next chapter of their lives as one.They had not seen a beautiful cathedral wedding or a luxurious party of nobles and the wealthy. Instead, they'd opted to take the field just outside of Elara's hut—the very field where Adrian had fallen several months prior, broken and lost, when she had first seen him.He stood now on the edge of the same field, his heart full but unyielding.He stood rooted there as Elara came into sight, dressed in a delicate ivory gown she had fashioned herself. Delicate embroidered lilies curled at the hems of her sleeves, and a daisy crown sat securely in her hair. Her ever-soft eyes met his the instant she caught sight of him.Adrian's breath was ta
The next morning, after the low-key proposal of Adrian, was surrounded by an atmosphere of quietness. Although nothing had been officially stated, there was something in how he grasped the hand of Elara as they walked into the breakfast area that caused everyone to stop. Clarisse was the first to notice, eyes darting from the flushed face of Elara to the gentle face of Adrian before a sly grin crept over her lips.Breakfast was unnaturally quiet. Nobody asked questions, yet everyone knew.Afterwards, while Elara had stepped outside to feed the birds in the rear gardens, Clarisse overcaught Adrian in the hallway."She said yes," he conceded before she could get a word in."I expected," Clarisse smiled tenderly. "She radiates.""So do I, I guess.""You do." Clarisse touched her fingertips to his shoulder and smiled. "You two deserve it."Adrian's tone was gentle. "I never thought I would again."Following breakfast, Elara strolled into the older section of the estate. Curiosity pulled a
Morning air was soft, the kind that signaled spring, but winter had not released its grip yet. Sunlight poured down on the estate's stone pathways, warming dew-kissed grass and casting shadows across ancient walls covered in ivy, with patches of golden light. Adrian stood at the master bedroom window, tea clutched in his hand, watching over Elara as she worked among the herb bed just inside the garden wall.There was tranquility in the movement she made—slow, slow, rooted in the earth beneath her feet. She hadn't traveled around the world. She adored it.And she'd adored him.From the first day she'd brought him to her small cottage, even when his own family had rejected him, Elara had given him something the world had withheld: quietness of acceptance.He took a breath, the heat of the tea anchoring him. It was different. Not perfect—still had within him shards of abandonment, memories of crippling loneliness, of illness—but under control. Improved. Whole. All thanks to her.He saw E
The Lancaster house, once an emblem of pride and sorrow, was now altered—cozier, more relaxed, lived-in. Adrian and Elara's presence had introduced staff to walk less stiffly, laughter that at times trickled through the corridors, and even the thick curtains had been opened to admit more sunlight.Elara had spent the morning in the garden, where late-autumn roses fought for life against the cold. She trimmed dead leaves away softly, not wanting to crush the last flower—deep red and curling over at the edges as if it too held on to love.Behind her, the crunch of footsteps on gravel in the distance announced Adrian's arrival."You'll bring them back again next spring," he exhaled, his arms wrapping around her from behind. "Everything you touch grows."She smiled, leaning back into him. "Not everything. Some things only needed the right season to heal."Adrian nuzzled his lips against her temple. "This house… it's changing because of you.""Because of us," she said softly. "You made the
The morning wind carried the first promise of fall, sharp and heavy with loam and the last summer bloom. Elara lingered by the garden entrance, shawl knotted close about her shoulders. The seasons were changing—and with them, something in herself.The creak of the cottage door stood behind her. Adrian emerged, arching back in a stretch, a sleepy grin on his face."Did you sleep?" she asked, watching as he ran a hand through his tousled hair."Bound well enough," he replied, coming to stand at her side. "You were warm. I slept beside you."She smiled quietly. "You always do."They stood shoulder to shoulder, watching a fox couple stroll along the treeline's edge in the distance, tails glinting like rubies of flame in the fog. Elara had named them weeks ago—Ash and Ember. Wild, cautious creatures. Not so unlike Adrian once was.He looked where she did. "You think they'll ever let you get close to them?""Not anytime soon," she said. "But I don't mind waiting."Adrian gazed down at her.
Breeze blew through treetop foliage as Elara stood at the corner of the newly cleared pathway, holding onto the handle of a shovel sheathed in wood. Sunbeams filtered through the tops of leafy branches above, sunny on her back. Adrian approached her with spools of stakes and twine."Care to dig another one today?" he asked, a glint in his eye.She turned to him with a soft smile. "We’re getting close to where the trail splits toward the river."They labored in comfortable quiet, the only noises those of birds, the soft chop of tools into the earth, and their even breathing. Repairing the old trail had become more than a project—it was therapy. It gave them time to speak, or not. To remember, or simply be.They sat for a little while, leaning on a felled log beside the boughs of an ancient oak. Adrian mopped at his brow with his arm, looking at Elara with subdued wonder."You never get tired," he told her."I get tired," she said, holding out a water canteen to him. "I just happen to k
The countryside was aglow with dew from an early dawn morning as Elara pushed the cottage window open, letting the fresh scent of lavender and wet earth into the air. The birds sang in the branches, a gentle chorus of life starting its rhythm. The village itself slept on, oblivious to the quiet miracle occurring over the past weeks: Adrian Lancaster's return — in body, certainly, but in heart, as well.Adrian stood barefoot beside the fence, gently petting the nose of one of Elara's goats who bleated at him lovingly. He chuckled, speaking quietly to the animal as if it were a party to something. The picture softened Elara's heart.It was hard to think of how far they'd traveled. The tormented man she first saw standing by the edge of the woods now smiled. Laughter. Alive.And yet. The change hadn't stopped coming.Adrian was standing outside the cottage, his gaze meeting hers through the open window."Morning," he drawled, in that low, husky voice she'd grown to love.Elara leaned out