Page 48 of Sanctuary and Spices

“The energy between us is trying to settle, but it won’t stabilize until...” I met her eyes. “Until you accept it. Accept me.”

“And if I don’t?”

The question hit like a physical blow. My markings dimmed. “The instability continues. Maybe worsens. The bond doesn’t disappear, but it stays incomplete. Like a wound that won’t heal.”

She looked around at the transformed garden. “Is that what caused the containment field to fail? This... unstable energy?”

“Partly. Our combined resonance is powerful, but uncontrolled. Without the full bond to direct it...” I gestured to the still-glowing crystals. “Things like this happen.”

“So, I have to accept this bond? I don’t get a choice?”

“No.” I stepped back, giving her space. “You always have a choice, Jani. I won’t pressure you. But you deserve to know what’s happening.”

The sounds of the festival seemed very far away. A vine curled around her ankle, as if trying to keep her close. She stared at it for a long moment.

“I need time,” she said finally. “To think about this.”

My heart sank, but I nodded. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here.”

She turned to leave, then paused. “The clothes you lent me...”

“Keep them.” I couldn’t bear the thought of her returning them, like returning a piece of herself.

She nodded once, then walked away. The plants drooped as she passed, their glow dimming. The crystal formations’ song faded to a whisper.

I knelt beside a cluster of Jhyra, their petals already less vibrant without her presence. My hands shook as I adjusted their position, more for something to do than any real need.

“You’re an idiot,” Lyrian said from behind me.

“Not now.”

“You should have told her sooner.”

“I know.” The words came out sharper than intended.

“The bond’s already forming. You can’t stop it now.”

“I know that too.” I straightened, facing him. “But I won’t force her into anything. She deserves better than that.”

Lyrian’s golden skin rippled with something like sympathy. “And if she decides against it?”

“Then I’ll learn to live with an incomplete bond.” The words tasted like ash.

He shook his head. “You’re both already too far gone for that.”

I didn’t answer. What could I say? That he was right? That every moment she was gone felt like missing a limb? That I’d rather live with this ache forever than risk pressuring her?

The crystal formations hummed a discordant note, matching my inner turmoil. I touched one, trying to steady its frequency. It only grew more chaotic.

“The station itself knows,” Lyrian observed. “It’s trying to help stabilize the bond.”

“It can’t.” I pulled my hand back. “Not unless she chooses it.”

He made a frustrated sound. “Your nobility is going to kill you both.”

“Then I’ll die knowing I did right by her.”

The crowds continued to move past our booth, their excited chatter a stark contrast to the hollow feeling in my chest. I caught fragments of conversation:

---