The castle had gone still. The others were gone, off into the restructured wilds beyond the safe edge of Mae's presence. And for the first time since arriving in this place, really arriving, it was just Mae and Riven. The silence wasn't awkward. It was, whole.
They sat on one of the high balconies that looked out over the horizon. From here, the world looked almost normal. Soft blue sky. Gentle silver hills. Streams that glittered like glass and moved like thoughts.
Mae had wrapped herself in a shawl made of strange, soft fibers the castle produced, like it knew she needed comfort. Riven brought food. Simple. Leftover supplies warmed and dressed up with stolen spices from Sethis' stash. He even made her tea. Or something like tea. It was floral and warm, and it made her chest ache in a safe way. He cared for her the way a lover would. Quietly. Thoughtfully. Not asking for anything in return. They talked for hours. About things that didn't matter. Things that did. About the tower in the basin. About Ashar's silence. About how Kaine was probably complaining the entire supply run already.
And then when the sun dipped low. Mae asked. "Do you think it could be possible?" Riven looked at her. "What?" She swallowed, eyes on the distant horizon. "The three of us. Together. At peace. Not just a vision. But real." He didn't answer immediately. When he did, it was gentle. "Yes." She turned to him, surprised. Riven shrugged, but there was no joke in his voice. "I think it's possible. Because I know Ashar already loves you." Mae blinked. "He hasn't said-"
"I don't need him to say it," Riven cut in. "I made him admit his suspicion about you. Made him put words to the feeling. That was the moment I knew." She stared at him.
"And the way me and him are," he smiled, a little sad. "He'll hate me for a while. Maybe longer. But if you make that decision? If you choose both?" He looked at her seriously. "You already saw what happens." Mae exhaled slowly. Her heart thudded in her chest. "But what if I ruin it? What if I hurt you both?"
"You will," Riven said softly. "And we'll hurt you too. That's what this is. Real things hurt sometimes. But real things also heal." They sat in silence again. Not because they had nothing left to say. Because everything that needed to be said had just been. And in that stillness, Riven reached for her hand. And for once, Mae didn't tremble when someone touched her. Riven's hand stayed wrapped around her longer than usual, his thumb grazing her knuckles like he wasn't quite ready to let go. "I've never seen this place, whole," he said, voice quieter than usual.
Mae followed his gaze as they walked through one of the castle's back corridors. The walls here were like stained glass, silver-veined marble with golden threads glowing faintly through the stone. Light shifted as they moved, as if the castle itself still remembered being broken. "You've been here before?" she asked. Riven nodded. "Once. A long time ago. When Ashar still had others." Mae looked at him. Riven didn't explain further. The silence between them wasn't heavy, it was personal. Comfortable. A walk between friends becomes something more.
They passed what used to be a garden, a space of twisted stone now reborn in shades of blue and silver, strange flowers blooming from impossible soil, vines weaving through arches with a kind of sentient elegance. "Everything here is alive," Mae whispered. Riven smiled softly. "So are you." She turned to him. He was watching her, really watching her, like he could see all the pieces she tried to hide. "You think it's weird?" she asked.
"I think it's you," he replied. They paused near a window, light cascading across them in warm blues and golds. For a long moment, neither spoke. Then Riven tightened his grip on her hand, just slightly, and turned to face her fully. "I'm not stopping this time." Mae's breath caught. She didn't move. Didn't pull away. Riven stepped forward, slow but certain, one hand rising to brush the side of her face. "No more almosts," he said, voice low, eyes locked on hers. And then he kissed her. It wasn't rushed. It wasn't uncertain.
It was earned. The kind of kiss that says: I see you. I want you. I'm not afraid of what this means. Mae melted into it, one hand slipping up to rest against his chest, feeling the warmth of his heartbeat, fast, steady, real. When they pulled apart, their foreheads pressed together, breath mingling, Riven didn't joke. He just whispered, "Finally." And Mae smiled. Because it felt like something had finally found its place.