The warmth of the day had given way to the cooler embrace of the evening, the sky painted with hues of orange and purple. Maria sat on the park bench, eyes drawn to the shadows shifting as the sun dipped lower. The world around her seemed distant, almost unreal, as if it was nothing more than a painted backdrop that could be pulled away at any moment. But Art was real. He was there, sitting beside her, the quiet determination in his eyes still holding her attention.

She glanced at him, watching as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, staring out at nothing in particular. The lines of his profile softened in the dimming light, the tension in his shoulders barely noticeable. He was silent, but there was a sense of presence that spoke louder than any words he could have offered. It was a presence that had come to mean something to her, though she couldn’t quite admit that aloud.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Maria let herself think about what had brought her here—not just to this park, to this moment, but to this tenuous alliance between them. She’d been so young when she first saw Art, barely more than a girl trembling in the cold shadow of fear. He had seemed larger than life then, a figure of impossible grace and power. And now, years later, he was still a mystery, though a kinder one. One she wasn’t sure she deserved to unravel.

A gentle breeze swept through the park, stirring the leaves in a whispered conversation. It carried her back to a night long ago, before the palace halls and the world of elves. She remembered the creak of the small wooden door to her home, the scent of herbs her mother kept drying by the fire, and the lull of her father’s voice telling stories he always said would keep the dark away. But darkness came, relentless and quiet, until only echoes remained.

The ghost of that memory tugged at her chest, a familiar ache she had learned to carry. She turned her head slightly, watching Art as he shifted, the barest hint of a smile playing on his lips as he noticed her gaze.

“You’re quiet today,” he remarked, his voice cutting through the weight in her mind. It wasn’t a question, but an invitation.

Maria managed a small smile, one she hoped was convincing. “Just... thinking.”

Art nodded, as if he understood without needing to press further. That was the thing about him, she realized; he never pushed, never demanded more than she was willing to give. It made it easier to be near him, to trust the spaces between them.

“Do you ever think about what it would be like, if things were different?” she asked before she could stop herself. The question hung in the air, unexpected even to her.

Art’s brow furrowed for a moment, the corners of his eyes tightening before he looked up at the sky. The light caught the gold flecks in his irises, making them gleam as he turned his gaze back to her. “I do,” he said softly. “More often than I’d like to admit.”

The admission startled her, but not as much as the silence that followed. It felt fragile, as though one wrong word could shatter it. And yet, there was a comfort in it too, a quiet understanding that they both carried burdens unseen, unspoken.

“Maria,” Art said, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. “You don’t have to carry everything by yourself.”

The words struck her deeper than she expected. She opened her mouth to reply, but the right words wouldn’t come. Instead, she looked down at her hands, fingers twisting together in a nervous dance. There was so much she wanted to say, so much she couldn’t risk saying. Not yet.

But then, as the evening folded into night and the distant sounds of the city faded further, she allowed herself a moment of truth. “I don’t know how to let go,” she whispered, the admission hanging between them like a secret laid bare.

Arterios reached out, the gesture slow, giving her time to pull away if she chose. His hand settled gently on hers, a touch so light it was almost imperceptible. “Then we’ll take it one step at a time.”

She looked up, meeting his eyes fully, and in that moment, there was no prince and no maid. Just two people caught between their pasts and whatever uncertain future awaited them. And for once, that seemed enough.

As the silence in the park stretched on, a voice called out from a distance, startling both Maria and Arterios. It was friendly, familiar, yet veiled with mystery. Arterios stiffened slightly, turning his head to see a figure emerging from the dappled light between the trees. The figure raised a hand, waving casually, but their features were still obscured by shadow and the angle of the sun.

“Arterios!” The voice echoed, a tone of warmth but also urgency. The figure began to approach, their steps confident, purposeful. Arterios rose instinctively, his calm demeanor slipping for a fraction of a second before he caught Maria’s glance. He offered her a quick, reassuring smile, but the intrigue in his eyes was undeniable as he waited for the figure to reach them.