9. Siderus

Iapproach the manor with slow, reluctant steps, gravel crunching beneath my boots. Tonight I am meant to further encourage Amaya"s affection, manipulating her trust as part of my uncle"s ruthless scheme. But the deceit turns my stomach, the lies bitter on my tongue.

In the weeks since the masquerade I have come to know Amaya deeply. Her warmth, her spirit, the way she looks at me with such openness and hope...how can I betray something so precious?

And yet if I do not, my uncle will intervene. His patience with our progress grows thin. Soon he will take matters into his own hands, and I fear the damage he will leave in his wake.

I halt below Amaya"s balcony, gazing up at the pale stone washed in moonlight. Imagining her smile, the sweet cadence of her laughter, fortifies my resolve. I will find a way to protect her from my uncle"s plans, even if it means maintaining this charade a little longer. She means more to me now than vengeance ever could.

I toss a pebble to tap lightly on the glass pane. Moments later she appears, face lighting up at the sight of me. My heart constricts even as I force an easy grin.

"Siderus," she calls softly. "Just give me a moment to sneak out."

"I"ll be waiting," I reply, infusing warmth into my tone with effort.

Soon I will hold her in my arms again, feel the rightness of her slight form against me. And pray it is not the last time, that I can shelter her from the coming storm.

Buying that precious time, it seems, will require me to continue deceiving the one person I yearn to never lie to again.

Amaya steals into the garden, her smile warming me even as guilt gnaws at my conscience. I tamp it down ruthlessly. Tonight, I must maintain the facade.

Taking her hands in mine, I affix an earnest look on my face. "Come out with me tonight, Amaya. I want to show you the wonders of the town, to show you all you have missed locked away."

Amaya bites her lip, glancing back anxiously at the looming manor. "It"s too risky. What if someone sees me?"

I squeeze her hands reassuringly. "I will weave a glamour to conceal you completely. No one will give you a second glance." I doubt that with how beautiful she is, but I keep the comment to myself.

At her continued hesitation, I soften my voice persuasively. "You"ve been trapped here too long. I know you want out. Don't you trust me?"

Amaya wavers, then smiles with shy excitement. "Alright. I do wish to see something of the world beyond these walls. With you, I know I will be safe."

Her trusting words spear my heart, but I push aside the pain. Murmuring the glamour spell, I transform her skin to a light pewter, her rounded ears into delicate points. Her features sharpen, brighten, her body taking on a grace that makes her seem like a dark elf. And oddly, I find myself wishing to reverse it, to have her back.

Instead, I wave a hand in her direction and say, "There. Your disguise is complete."

Taking her arm, I lead Amaya from the sheltered estate out into the wider world. Her delighted reactions make the ongoing deception almost bearable. This is how she should always look - joyful, free, her smile untroubled.

I pray that somehow I can preserve that innocence, contentment in her eyes. For both our sakes, I cannot fail now. The gathering storm on the horizon leaves no room for error.

I guide Amaya through the city, savoring her unconcealed joy and wonder at each new sight and sound. We take in a street musician plucking a lively tune, then stop at a bustling tavern for savory meat pies. Amaya marvels at the atmosphere, having never before interacted with common folk.

At last we come to the open air night market. Amaya darts from stall to stall, delighted by the dizzying array of wares - brightly dyed silks, fresh caught fish glittering on beds of ice, sacks of exotic spices that make the air rich and fragrant.

Watching Amaya immerse herself fully in each experience, I cannot help but smile. She was meant for more than a shuttered life of secrecy. The world deserves the light she brings to it.

A twinge of sorrow pierces through my contentment. After tonight, will she ever have a chance to experience such unfettered freedom again? Once my uncle"s schemes come to fruition, her fate is precarious at best.

If only time and circumstance were not my enemies. But I vow, for however long I am able, to nurture that incandescent spirit of hers. She makes me believe light can still exist even in the darkest of nights.

We linger as long as possible in the lively streets before I reluctantly steer our steps back toward Amaya"s home. A serene happiness glows from her as we walk, and my heart aches with what is to come.

"Thank you for tonight," Amaya murmurs. "It was…incredible. I've never been out in the city before, and I love it." Her striking green eyes sparkle. "Thank you, Siderus.

I stop, taking both her hands though mine tremble. "Amaya, you deserve freedom, light...things I cannot provide." My voice breaks. "Forgive me."

Confusion floods her face. Before it can turn to fear, I swiftly invoke the spell. Amaya"s limbs go limp as she slumps unconscious into my arms. Hot shame floods me even as I lift her gently.

"It will be better this way," I rasp aloud in the empty street. But the limp weight of her in my arms mocks the claim.

I carry her to my manor, slipping inside without anyone seeing us, thankfully. I couldn't face my uncle just yet. Instead, I carry Amaya up the stairs down the hall where my room is. I take her to the opposite side of the hall and into the empty room.

Inside, there is a single bed. All the other furniture has been moved, but it does have an adjoining bathroom. I lay her in the bed, tucking her beneath the blankets and running my hand through my hair as I step back to look at her.

I sigh softly, guilt bubbling up inside me. I've already put spells on the window and door so she will be unable to open them, but I hate the idea of her waking alone in here, scared. Not that she will find comfort in me anymore.

This is necessary,I tell myself. The only way to control her fate, spare her from something far worse. And yet my soul rebels at stealing away her choices, her future.

I force myself to turn away, securing the door behind me. But the image of her helpless form haunts me, a specter of accusation. I pray she will understand when she wakes why I had to commit this sin against her. And that one day, forgiveness will not be beyond hope.