Aurora found me the next evening before I could disappear into my usual solitude.
"Come," she whispered, already reaching for my hand.
I didn't resist.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
She smiled—mischief already written across her face.
"You'll see."
No Titles. No Masks.
The place was… unimpressive.
A sagging roof.
Crooked beams.
A sign that looked like it had given up years ago.
Inside—
Smoke.
Sweat.
Laughter.
A handful of villagers drank like the world might end before morning. A bard in the corner strummed a lute badly enough to be impressive.
Aurora stepped inside like it was a palace.
She spun once on the uneven floorboards, arms slightly out.
"Charming, isn't it?"
I exhaled a quiet laugh.
"Charming is… generous."
She leaned closer, lowering her voice.
"That's because you've spent too long in castles."
A beat.
"Here… no one cares who you are."
Her eyes met mine.
"They just live."
That landed harder than she intended.
The Table
We sat by the window.
Wood rough beneath our hands.
Two mugs of sour wine pushed toward us.
Aurora didn't hesitate.
She drank.
Winced.
Then laughed.
"It's terrible," she said.
Another sip.
"I love it."
I watched her.
Not as a noble.
Not as Mikael's son.
Just—
Watched.
"I used to come here as a child," she said. "With Tristan."
She rolled her eyes.
"He hated it. Said it was beneath us."
A small shrug.
"I think that's why I liked it."
Of course she did.
"You wanted freedom," I said.
She nodded.
"This is the closest I've ever had."
What Klaus Wants
Her gaze sharpened.
"And you?"
The question lingered.
I could have answered like before.
Power.
Control.
Survival.
But that wasn't the truth she was asking for.
"Peace," I said quietly.
A pause.
"To exist… without being shaped by someone else."
Aurora didn't laugh.
Didn't tease.
She understood.
"Then we want the same thing," she said.
Her fingers brushed mine.
Not accidental.
Not forced.
Chosen.
The Sketchbook
I hesitated for a moment.
Then reached into my coat.
A small leather sketchpad.
Worn.
Carefully kept.
Aurora tilted her head. "You draw?"
I opened it.
Page after page.
Landscapes.
Faces.
Moments captured in charcoal and ink.
Real.
Detailed.
Alive.
Her expression changed.
Completely.
"These are…" she whispered.
"Mine," I said.
She looked at me again—
Differently now.
"Why have you never shown anyone this?"
Because they wouldn't understand.
Because it wasn't useful.
Because it wasn't power.
"Because I didn't trust anyone with it," I said simply.
A pause.
"Until now."
That landed.
She turned another page.
Then another.
And then—
She stopped.
The Future
The sketches changed.
Strange designs.
Unfamiliar shapes.
Fabric stretched across curved frames.
Rope systems.
Harnesses.
Concepts no one in this time should understand.
Aurora frowned slightly.
"What is this?"
I watched her carefully.
"Something that doesn't exist yet," I said.
Her eyes flicked back to me.
"You speak as if it will."
A small smile.
"It will."
She studied the page again.
"Is it… for flight?"
That caught me off guard.
"Something like that."
Aurora leaned back, fascinated.
"You see things others don't."
No.
I remember things others haven't seen yet.
But I didn't say that.
Instead—
"I imagine what could be," I replied.
She closed the sketchbook slowly.
Held it for a second longer than necessary.
"You showed me this," she said quietly.
"Yes."
"Why?"
I met her gaze.
"Because you understand freedom."
A beat.
"And this… is what it looks like."
The Dance
The music picked up.
Badly.
Loudly.
Aurora stood suddenly.
Grinning.
"Dance with me."
I raised a brow.
"Here?"
She stepped closer.
Close enough that I could feel her breath.
"Exactly here."
I let her pull me up.
The floor creaked beneath our feet.
The rhythm was wrong.
The steps—
Improvised.
And for the first time—
I didn't care.
We moved.
Not like nobles.
Not like warriors.
Just—
Alive.
She laughed.
Freely.
Without restraint.
And somehow—
That mattered more than anything else.
For the First Time
For a moment—
Everything else faded.
No Mikael.
No Esther.
No destiny.
No future.
Just—
This.
Her.
And something I hadn't allowed myself to feel since waking in this world.
Peace.
I watched her as the music stumbled on.
As the world blurred around us.
And for the first time—
I didn't just see the future.
I wanted to live in the present.
With her.