27. Chapter 27

twenty-seven

A s Kallessa woke from a surprisingly restful sleep, she noticed two things. First, she had a crick in her neck that was aching, but second, she was so warm and cozy, she didn’t care. She stayed where she was with her eyes closed, feeling another new sensation.

The rise and fall of a hard chest.

Suddenly, the memories of the previous night crashed over her like a wave, and her eyes snapped open. She struggled against the confines of the blanket, only to find herself held fast by muscular arms that tightened instinctively around her.

Kallessa tilted her head, her gaze landing on Nevander’s face. In slumber, the ever-present tension had melted away, leaving him looking younger, almost vulnerable. The usual pinch between his brows had smoothed out, and his cleanly shaven jaw now sported a dusting of stubble that made her fingers itch to touch it.

Was this what it was like to wake up next to someone you loved? Someone who cherished and protected you, who made you feel safe and adored? Clarity washed over her with a startling force. She wanted this intimacy, this closeness. She wanted him, Nevander, with an intensity that stole her breath away.

Her heart hammered as she hesitated. Then she slowly slid her hand from under the warm fur blanket to stroke his stubbled cheek. At her touch, his eyes fluttered open, thick lashes parting to reveal captivating green depths flecked with gold.

Unlike their first encounter, when nightmares haunted his waking moments, his eyes were soft, unfocused, like a lush forest shrouded in mist. As awareness seeped into those mesmerizing eyes, they settled on her face. A slow, lazy smile spread across his lips, igniting a warmth in her core that had nothing to do with the fur blanket covering them. Kallessa found herself drawn closer, aching to taste those sensual lips again, to lose herself in his embrace.

But before she could act on her desire, Nevander’s gaze shifted, focusing on something beyond her. “Look,” he whispered, his voice husky with sleep. He pointed past her shoulder. “It’s snowing.”

She hadn’t even glanced outside yet, too entranced by his face, his intense green eyes that seemed to peer into her soul. She gasped, pushing herself up, wincing as the movement sent a fresh jolt of pain through her cramped neck. But the discomfort faded to insignificance as she beheld the scene outside their glass sanctuary.

A flurry of white flakes drifted lazily past the window, transforming the world into a glistening wonderland. The maze’s hedges wore caps of pristine snow, and icicles hung like delicate jewelry from nearby tree branches. It was as if nature itself had conspired to create this magical moment just for them.

Nevander’s muscles tensed as Kallessa sat up, his instinct screaming to pull her back into their fur-lined cocoon. In this secluded nook, they were safe from the world’s prying eyes and judgments. A possessive urge surged through him. He didn’t want to share her, not even with the snow. But the determination in her eyes melted his resolve, and he found himself helping her to her feet.

In the filtered light of a snowy dawn, she was soft around the edges, her hair mussed and her dress wrinkled. Her eyes glowed and the freckles across her nose and cheeks stood out against the morning paleness of her skin. His fingers itched to trace those constellations, to map out every inch of her.

Kallessa wrapped a fur around her shoulders, excitement glinting in her eyes. “Come on, we have to go outside.”

How could he resist that look? He took his cloak and another fur and slid his feet into his boots.

As they stepped out into the opening of the maze, the chilly air brushed against his bare face, reminding him he couldn’t hide who he was much longer.

He didn’t want to hide from her anymore.

Kallessa had her face to the gray sky, her little pink tongue stuck out, trying to catch a snowflake. Snow dusted her hair and shoulders. She stopped to look closer, her eyes widening with delight.

“They’re like tiny stars, each one different. It’s amazing.” She pulled him closer, pointing at the flakes sticking to the furs.

He looked down obediently, not expecting to see stars, but she was right. The flakes were delicate and beautifully symmetrical. Each one a tiny, intricate lattice of frozen water, catching the light and refracting it in mesmerizing patterns.

How many times had he seen snow, yet never stopped to observe the loveliness of it ?

“You are marvelously odd, my sweet Kallessa,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

She glanced up, prepared to be insulted, but he pulled her close. “There are stars on your eyelashes.” He brushed his lips against her eyelids.

“Let’s walk,” Kallessa said, her breath warm against his neck. “I want to feel the snow against my skin.”

“You’re not cold?” he asked.

“Not yet. I’ve been huddled next to a furnace all night,” she teased, her hands against his chest.

As they wandered through the maze, they came upon a bench. Kallessa swiped the thin layer of snow away and sat, patting the seat next to her. Nevander hesitated, knowing they were nearing the end of the maze, and possibly their time together.

Quietly, they sat, shoulders brushing, watching the snowflakes swirl in intricate patterns. The only sound was the gentle whisper of the wind weaving through the hedges.

Kallessa sighed. “This is so peaceful. I never knew snow could be so lovely.”

Nevander’s arm tightened around her, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. She was what made the snow lovely. Because every time before this, when he’d seen snow, it had reminded him of death - the countless lives lost on the frozen battlefields, the crimson streaks staining the pristine white drifts. The memories of pain and the agonies of war would come flooding back, a torrent of anguish threatening to drown him in its depths.

Nevander had gone still beside her, tension radiating from him. Kallessa glanced up, finding his gaze unfocused and swirling with a turmoil she’d never seen before.

“Nevander,” she said softly, “what’s wrong?”

He startled at her voice, his eyes snapping to hers before his expression smoothed over. Oh yes, she knew that trick. Seen it enough times, done it enough times to know he was hiding something.

“It’s—It’s nothing.”

She laid her hand across his. “It’s not nothing. Has something happened?”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Something happened, yes. But nothing you need to worry about. Just an old wound coming to the surface.”

He moved to stand, his body coiled like a spring ready to snap. “Shall we make our way back?”

Kallessa grabbed his hand, holding him in place. “No,” she said, surprised by the firmness in her own voice. “I want you to tell me what’s wrong.”

She watched Nevander closely, noting the tightness in his jaw and the shadows in his eyes. Her mind sparked with a memory of her mother’s gentle coaxing whenever she was too stubborn or afraid to share her troubles.

“How about,” she suggested, her thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of his hand, “instead of telling me what’s wrong, you tell me a story?” It had always worked for her mother. Maybe it could help Nevander, too.

To her surprise, the tension in his shoulders eased slightly. He remained silent for a few heartbeats, his gaze distant and pensive. Then, with a slow exhale, he spoke, his rich voice low and measured as he wove a story from the threads of his thoughts.

“The snow,” he waved his hand before them, “I grew up around it, but I’d never seen the amount that falls in the Narian mountains until I served there during the war.” He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as if seeking warmth against a chill only he could feel. “It was colder than anything I’d ever known.”

Kallessa shook her head, trying to imagine it. “I’ve never even seen snow before. I had no idea how it could blanket everything, turning the landscape into a foreign place.”

“Foreign,” Nevander echoed, his voice distant. “Yes, that’s exactly what it was. Foreign… and deadly.”

A shiver ran down Kallessa’s spine that had nothing to do with the cold. “Deadly?” she prompted gently.

Nevander swallowed hard, his gaze focused on something far beyond the snow-covered landscape before them. “Remember being trapped behind the fireplace?”

The abrupt change of subject startled her. That small, dark room behind the fireplace. How could she forget? The memory of that searing kiss, their bodies pressed together in the cramped space, was enough to melt the surrounding snow.

“Yes?” she replied, searching his face for clues.

“I told you a story about falling down a well,” he continued, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. “But that isn’t the real reason small, dark places send me into a panic.”

“What is the real reason?” she asked gently.

He paused, teeth grinding together. “Every time I see snow now, it’s covered in blood. So much blood.” His grip had tightened on her, but he seemed unaware of it. “That day still haunts my dreams and sent me into a spiral of depression for over a year.”

A shudder rippled through her. That morning at the inn, when she’d awoken him from a nightmare - this was that story.

He scoffed, a harsh sound that seemed to tear from his throat. “I’ll skip over everything stupid I did afterwards. You don’t want to hear that.”

“Nevander,” she shook her head, “I can’t imagine how the war affected you. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

His eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching. “You haven’t heard the story yet.”

She waited, watching his gaze unfocus as he was transported back to that nightmarish time and place. For her sake, he was reliving his trauma.

“I was the best sea captain in the Dracian navy,” he began, his voice taking on a hollow quality that made Kallessa’s skin prickle. “If it was a battle on water, I led it. And I won, battle after battle, during the Birazahian war. But eventually, the fighting crept inland, and we had to follow.”

“I knew how to fire cannons and hit a ship at a hundred yards, but now we were fighting an enemy with musket rifles and hand held bombs - things we didn’t even know existed.” He shook his head. “I led my squad into a pass in the Narian mountains near the Birazahian border, chasing a rebel band that kept attacking our camp at night.”

Nevander’s voice dropped to a whisper, and Kallessa had to strain to hear him over the soft whisper of falling snow. “Our intel said it would be an easy victory, that we would have them by nightfall. But there was no way out of the pass. I should have gone to look for myself. If only I’d realized it was a trap...”

His throat bobbed, and Kallessa felt his heart pounding against her. “We were ambushed. I took a bullet in the shoulder and tumbled into a foxhole. Then,” he shuddered, his entire body trembling, “it collapsed in on me, burying me under a mountain of dirt and snow.”

Kallessa’s breath caught in her throat. No wonder he was terrified of enclosed spaces. She tightened her arms around him, as if she could somehow protect him from the memory.

He snapped his head up, focusing into the distance. “I could still hear the muffled screams and the booms of rifle fire, the crunch of bones, but I was helpless. I couldn’t move, could hardly breathe. Every time I tried to gasp, more frigid dirt fell into my mouth.”

Tears stung Kallessa’s eyes, feeling cold as they crept down her cheeks. This is what Nevander relived every time it snowed?

His breath shook as he inhaled. “I don’t know how the rescue team found me. But they did.” His usually vibrant green eyes were now as bleak as a frozen stream. “But every other man I’d led into that pass was… dead . ”

The snow fell in silence, shrouding the world. Nevander’s head throbbed as steaming blood melted the snow, over and over. He dared a glance at Kallessa, expecting to see horror in her eyes. Or at least disgust. Or some kind of judgement. Judge him, dammit! He wanted to see condemnation. Wasn’t that what he deserved ?

Why did she have tears in her big doe eyes? Why was she still hugging her sweet warm arms around him?

His stomach churned. She wasn’t going to give him what he deserved - condemnation, revulsion, anger. She was too soft, too impossibly kind to fully understand the gravity of his grievous error that day. The sheer scale of death and destruction he’d wrought. An acidic wave of self-loathing washed over him. Wasn’t that why he’d confessed it all to her? In a twisted way, he’d hoped she would finally see him for the monster he felt like on his darkest days.

“Didn’t you hear me?” His voice cracked. “I killed my own men.” His loyal crew, brave souls who’d followed him without hesitation, now rotted in the ground, their families left without fathers, brothers, or sons.

Kallessa held his gaze, her words soft but firm. “You didn’t kill them, Nevander. The enemy did.”

Her kindness only twisted the knife deeper. He pulled away, unable to bear her touch. “They were my responsibility,” he ground out, fists clenching at his sides. As their captain, they’d trusted him with their lives, and he’d failed them utterly.

“Did you do the best you could?” she asked, her question simple but piercing.

Nevander wrestled with those few small words. Hadn’t he? He’d fought with everything he had, sacrificing his body to shield his men, but it hadn’t been enough.

Kallessa wiped tears from her eyes. “You may not have realized, but by telling me Tynan’s last words, you released me from a burden I’ve carried for five years.” Her voice quavered. “I thought my family’s death was my fault. That they died because I didn’t love them enough, or something I said or did that day caused the accident.”

She took a shaky breath. “But I didn’t kill my parents. And you didn’t kill those soldiers.”

Her understanding stunned him, cracking the armor he’d built around his heart.

“Oh Kallessa, I’m so—” he began. But she stopped him, pressing one damp finger to his lips. It was salty with the tears she’d swiped from her eyes. Tears for him.

“Stop apologizing,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. She replaced her finger with her lips in a tender kiss. They were cold and soft and yielding against his own. He shivered, but not from the chill.

She pulled back, a small smile forming. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I don’t know why I deserved to hear it, but-”

Nevander silenced her with another kiss, savoring her softness and the faint taste of salt from her tears. This wasn’t the lust he’d indulged in to forget in the past, a fleeting physical release that only left him emptier. No, this kiss allowed him to live in the present. He drank in her warmth and her simple acceptance.

No matter what happened to them after this, if he never saw her again after this was all over, he would never forget this moment. She’d given him a new snowy day to remember, one that almost felt like hope.

Exiting the maze felt like leaving another world behind, a realm filled with snow, fur blankets, shared stories, and the fragile beginnings of healing old wounds. Nevander’s confessions still swirled in Kallessa’s mind, their weight pressing on her heart.

She’d never felt this close to another person outside her family. And she didn’t want to let go of that dimension where only the two of them existed, bound together by unspoken understanding.

Serene quiet blanketed Ravenbluff Estate. It seemed the birds and woodland creatures cherished the stillness as much as Kallessa did.

It was all so breathtakingly beautiful. The snow had dwindled to a few delicate flakes lazily drifting as the sky lightened to a soft blue-gray. She drank in the peaceful vista, trying to commit every detail to memory.

But as dawn brightened the sky, it also illuminated the realities of the day.

She glanced at Nevander, noting the distant, unfocused look in his eyes, as if he were also trapped in the weight of the present moment. A faint crease appeared between his brows as he gazed out at the winter landscape. There was something so familiar about his profile. His powerful jaw, straight nose, and slightly parted full lips tugged at distant memories. Kallessa studied him intently, wishing the answer would materialize from the recesses of her mind.

Instead, an ache grew in her chest. This false relationship, this charade they were playing, was going to tear her apart in the end. She’d tasted sweet desire, felt the warmth of true friendship, and now the intoxicating mix of these emotions left her forever changed.

She needed to distance herself from him before she lost herself completely. The thought twisted like a knife in her heart. Somehow, she had to endure the remaining days at the estate, present her ideas to Princess Ciana, and leave Ravenbluff behind forever.

The future stretched before her, a vast expanse devoid of color and vibrancy, bleak and gray with an overwhelming sense of loneliness clawing at her soul.

No, she was a surviver. She would get past this.

She had to think about her responsibilities. About Aunt Gevene, about her future. Wasn’t Princess Ciana supposed to arrive today? She had to focus on securing her future. No one else would. If she had to face it alone, she would store up the memories of this night to keep her warm in the dark days ahead.

Nevander dreaded the night coming to an end. He reached up to stroke his beard, only to recall it was gone. Now, people would recognize him. He had to come clean with Kallessa before someone else told her who he was. This trip was meant to help Castien uncover traitors among them, not play fake fiancé to a destitute girl.

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. No, she wasn’t destitute in his eyes. She could have been the scullery maid that she joked about and he wouldn’t care, his heart was already blind to it. But would she ever forgive him for deceiving her?

After the night they’d shared, she deserved the truth. She was everything good in this world, and he couldn’t stand to deceive her a minute longer .

It didn’t matter if she hated him afterwards; it didn’t matter that it would destroy the fragile trust that had built between them.

He slowed, then stopped, gently grasping Kallessa’s elbow. Her rich dark eyes, framed with those ridiculously long lashes, her cheeks blushed by the chilly air, her wild curls framing her face. That’s how he wanted to remember her.

“Kallessa,” he began, his voice catching. How could he put into words the emotions swirling within him?

“Yes?” Her eyes held an uncertain glint, as if she sensed the weight behind his forthcoming words.

“I have to tell you something.” He paused, drinking in the sight of her. Oh, how he didn’t want this to end, didn’t want to shatter their tranquil bubble.

She looked up at him, her vulnerability called to his soul. He just wanted to crush her to him, to forget who he was and all the duties that constrained him. For this one moment, he yearned to be simply a man in love.

“I’m-” The words stuck in his throat.

But his sentence was abruptly interrupted by a page running full tilt toward them, face flushed from exertion.

“My lord, the prince requests your presence at once!” The page panted, bending over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

No…not now. Nevander’s teeth ground, turning to the page. “What’s happened?” But the urgency in the page’s face had a thousand terrifying scenarios flashing through his mind.

“I don’t know, my lord, just please come quickly,” the page pleaded .

Nevander turned to Kallessa, but she’d already withdrawn her hand, her once expressive eyes now guarded. Anger rolled through him as he felt the connection they’d shared slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s alright, I have things to attend to today. Take care of what you need to do.” Without a backward glance, she turned and walked purposefully toward the estate.

Nevander’s heart clenched painfully. He wanted to knock the page to the ground and run after her, to beg her not to leave his side. But duty, like an invisible chain, held him in place.

He turned back to the page, his voice low and dangerous. “Lead the way, and make haste.”