When no one proceeds to enter, Aster relaxes once more, sure that she’d misheard.

Knock knock.

She jolts upright. She definitely didn’t imagine that. And…

Her gaze falls hesitantly onto her balcony doors.

Knock.

She’s sure of it. The knocking had come from there.

An intruder? A stray tree branch? A… A ghost?

Knock knock knock.

Should she call for Seraphina? But what if the knocking stops by the time she gets here?

Knock knock.

Aster wills her frozen limbs to unlock themselves.

Knock.

She weighs over her options. Calling for help is out of the question. What if it isn’t a threat at her balcony? If the looks she gets around the palace are any indication, her reputation is already shaky as is. The last thing she needs is a false scare to fan the flames.

Knock knock knock.

She reaches for the wrought iron candlestick sitting on her desk and rises to her feet. Inch by shaky inch, she makes her way slowly towards the doors.  

Knock knock.

Is she imagining it? Or did it almost sound like the knocking…

Knock.

…had a pattern.

Aster pauses. Waits.

Knock knock knock.

Pause.

Knock knock.

Pause.

Knock.

And then again. The same sequence, over and over. Like a code. Like…

A signal.

The realisation stops her right in her tracks.

“No,” Aster thinks, even as hope surges through her like a rising wave. “It couldn’t be.”

She barely registers her feet as they cross the floor in seconds, hands reaching out to fling the balcony doors wide open.

Aster stands in the doorway, winter air rushing in to nip at her cheeks. But there is no one on her landing. There is nothing but the night; cold and still and silent.  

All her anticipation escapes her body in a crushing exhale.

What was she thinking? Of course he wasn’t here. As if he’d appear out of nowhere just because she missed him- just because she wanted him to show up.

A sigh tumbles out of her mouth, unbidden. Aster reaches for the balcony doors.

Time to stop dreaming, Aster Vastein.

“Hey, princess.”

She freezes, the doors already mostly closed.

She’s hearing things. She must be.

Still, Aster pushes the doors back open.

Then she looks up.

There’s a boy standing on the overhang of the doorway, feet poised on the ledge as he peers down at her.

The candlestick Aster had been holding falls to the floor with a clatter. Her mouth forms on a word – a name - but no sound comes. All she can do is stare incredulously.

The boy seems to stifle a laugh at her reaction, a smile playing across his features. Lazy. Familiar.  

Then he steps off the ledge.

He tips forward, body suspended weightlessly for a second, before he begins to descend. Down down down he floats headfirst, only coming to a stop once he’s face to face with Aster. His raven hair falls away from his face, leaving those turquoise eyes to twinkle back at her in undisguised mirth. Blue as summer and sea glass; the colour of Aster’s fondest memories.

Then he grins.

“Long time no see.”