Leaf hairpin
The next day, our work ended earlier than usual. I was grateful for the rare reprieve, and without wasting time, I made my way back toward my room. The palace corridors were quiet, the afternoon sun casting long, golden streaks along the stone walls.
But as I turned the last corner, I froze.
Luke was standing outside my room.
He wasn’t leaning casually or waiting in the usual relaxed way he did. His posture was stiff, his gaze distant—until our eyes met. It had been days since we last spoke. Days since that night when he help me to scape.
“Luke,” I said softly as I approached.
His eyes held a shadow of something—regret, perhaps. “Can we talk?” he asked, his voice low and tinged with sadness.
I only nodded.
We left the palace behind and wandered into the small garden that bordered the outer wall. A great oak spread its branches above us, its leaves whispering in the late summer breeze. We sat in the grass beneath it, facing the quiet stretch of horizon. Silence lay between us, heavy but not entirely unwelcome.
Finally, Luke broke it.
“Selene, I’m sorry,” he said, his voice thick. “That night… I was a coward. I let my wish to scape you here.” His head lowered, as if the admission shamed him.
I shook my head gently. “Don’t think that way, Luke. You were only trying to protect me. I know you were thinking about my safety that night.”
His lips pressed into a line. “Maybe. But I should have stayed. I should have been braver. It’s taken me until now to even find the courage to talk to you again.”
I offered a small smile, though my heart felt heavy. “It’s all right. I know I disappointed you too. I chose Aeron’s words over yours…” My gaze drifted to the trees swaying above us. The guilt coiled in my chest. Luke had been the one constant beside me, and yet I had ignored his warnings.
“I’m just… afraid,” he admitted quietly. “Afraid that one day you’ll be sacrificed—and that I won’t be able to stop it. I don’t want to lose you like that, Selene.”
His fear struck deep. Luke had always been kind to me, always protective in ways he never asked credit for. But then there was Aeron—whose voice alone seemed to stir something ancient and unexplainable in me.
I turned back to Luke.
“Thank you, Luke, for everything. I know you value me even though I’m not anyone important… but you’ve made me feel what true friendship is.” I reached out and took his hand. “Still, since the moment I heard Aeron’s voice, it’s as if… half of me is being pulled toward him. Every word, every look—it feels natural, like it belongs. I can’t explain it.”
Luke’s brows drew together. “You mean… you’re in love with him?”
“No. That’s not it.” I shook my head firmly. “It’s something else, Luke. It’s like there’s an energy in me that matches his—like we’re made of the same thing.”
His eyes widened. For a moment, I thought he might tell me something important, but he stopped himself. “Y-you…” he began, but then faltered.
“What? Luke, do you know something?” I pressed, my heartbeat quickening.
“Ah—no. Nothing.” He blinked quickly and forced a small, crooked smile. “Better not to talk about that now. Besides, I’ll just end up feeling jealous.” He chuckled, though the sound was strained.
I could see the truth—he was holding something back. But if he wasn’t ready to tell me, I wouldn’t force him.
He stood suddenly, brushing grass from his trousers, and extended his hand. “Come on. Let’s go to the market before the day ends. We could both use a walk.”
I hesitated, then smiled and slipped my hand into his. “All right.”
The streets were still lively when we arrived. The air was warm, and the mingling scents of baked bread, roasting meat, and wildflowers filled the market square. Merchants called out their wares, children darted between stalls, and the clinking of coins mixed with the chatter of the crowd.
Before we walked deeper into the throng, I tied my hair back and covered it with a thin scarf, then pulled a mask over my face. I had no desire for the stares or whispers that often followed me.
Everywhere I looked, there was something to admire—delicate beads in every shade imaginable, shimmering hairpins, dresses embroidered with intricate patterns, and ornaments shaped like stars and moons.
I paused before a stall where silks fluttered in the wind. One cloth caught my eye—a soft green fabric embroidered with yellow and red flowers. It was beautiful, almost hypnotic in its simplicity. I reached for it, my fingers brushing its smooth texture, but when I remembered my empty pockets, I let it fall back into place and turned away.
Luke was a few steps away, studying a small rack of hairpins.
“Why are you buying here?” I asked, smiling as I walked up to him.
He turned, holding a green hairpin shaped like a delicate leaf. “Here. Try it.” Without waiting for an answer, he tucked it into my hair.
“Oh, there—you look even more beautiful,” he said warmly, pinching my cheek.
I laughed softly, though my heart ached at his kindness. “It’s lovely, but I can’t buy it.”
“Who said you had to? I’ll get it for you,” he replied easily, waving off my concern.
My smile widened. “Really? Thank you, Luke!” I threw my arms around him in gratitude.
When we left the market, the sun was dipping lower, painting the sky in shades of amber and rose. The streets grew quieter as we walked back toward the palace, the air cooling with the promise of night.
Luke carried the small parcel with the hairpin inside, and though neither of us said much, there was a strange comfort in the quiet. Whatever unspoken truths he was hiding, I knew one thing for certain—Luke had always been there for me.
And part of me feared that one day soon, I might lose him.