Fin stared dumbly at the closed door, caught in the unpleasant whirlwind of his chaotic emotions.

Lady Jenoure was coming back to see him.

Why though?

The witch picked up the black gloves on the ground and turned back to his small cottage slowly. He placed the soft leather, that had a small shine to them, on his worn kitchen table carefully...

He almost laughed at the absurdity of seeing gloves that were probably worth more than half his belongings resting so innocently in his home.

Fin slowly lowered himself into a chair as he continued studying the leather material while lost in thought.

Even from where he was sitting, there was the faintly spicy smell of Annika tinting the air, and making his heart do an impressive series of somersaults.

Gods he wanted to be with her…

‘We truly know nothing of one another. It isn’t worth the risk to her.’ Fin began his usual litany of reasons why he couldn’t ever pursue Lady Jenoure. The same tired list he had been reciting at least ten times a day since their kiss...

‘She and I could end up hating each other, and then she would have risked and gambled it all on me. I’d never forgive myself for letting her take such a ridiculous path just to find out if we might work.’ The redhead slowly felt his heart slowing down as the sobering logic of reality trickled down his back.

‘Even if I were to gain some small amount of wealth, I am untitled and a marriage between us would be deeply frowned upon… she would be forced out of the castle. Our children would be outcasts…’ Fin imagined Annika dressed in peasant clothes, forced into hours of hard labor in order to get food on the table. He knew weaker women than Lady Jenoure had done it, but that wasn’t the point…

She’d been raised in great wealth and luxury her entire life, would she really be satisfied with such a bleak future? She’d never be able to see the Queen again, and would have to quit espionage, or become a mercenary, which was far more dangerous…

There really was no way they could make it work. It wasn’t like he could prance up to the King and say;

“Your majesty I’ve saved your wife’s life and your unborn child’s, not to mention hundreds of lives in the castle from Hilda. I’m helping you evaluate battle plans and assessing whether or not my father will attack in a predictable way. I’m now a decoy spy. Give me a title and a raise or I’ll let the entire country burn!’”

“Speaking of letting the country burn…” Fin muttered to himself and began rubbing his face tiredly.

‘Annika is supposed to marry in order to gain military support from Zinfera. She can’t let Daxaria fall to ruins just because she doesn’t want to- Wait a moment. Why is she telling me we can be together? She wouldn’t lose the Zinferan support just to run off with a cook. What is she planning?’ The cook's mind began whirring to life. There were pieces missing to the story… Annika was doing something… but what?

‘Well unless she tells me, I have no business knowing.’ Fin finally acquiesced to himself after moments of wracking his brain trying to see what the Lady could be plotting.

‘I’ll be firm. I will apologize to her again about the kiss the other day, explain about the rose as a calm adult, and everything will be fine.’

The brattle of the latch lifting in his front door had Fin’s heart tripling in speed immediately. His mind went blank as the familiar cloaked figure slipped into the cottage, and gently closed the door behind them.

The witch was only just remembering to breathe as he stood up when, with a slight billowing from her cloak, Annika was beside him standing on her tiptoes. Her lips brushed near his earlobe sending electric tingles throughout his entire body. Every hair on his arms was raised and his skin became covered in goosebumps.

“There is a Troivackian Knight patrolling around your cottage- he’s most likely one of my brother’s men. Is the cottage still soundproof?” The Viscountess whispered carefully, her left hand without its glove rested on Fin’s forearm, and the cook could feel his previous resolve deteriorating all too quickly.

After blinking several times and swallowing with great difficulty, the witch replied in a surprisingly normal volume.

“Yes it is. No one can hear or see in.” He snapped his fingers and all the shutters and the front door creaked slightly. “Now no one can get in.”

Annika was still touching his arm when he glanced back down at her. The expression on her face humbled him as an array of emotions crossed through her warm brown eyes. Brown eyes that he knew could turn sharp and deadly, eyes that shone when he made her laugh…

“Excellent.” Annika slowly pulled her hand away, though she remained glued to his side.

Fin refused to admit that he felt the loss of her touch more keenly than he had been prepared for.

“I left my gloves here so that we could have a few minutes to chat. Though the King is waiting for me so I won’t be long.” The stiff formality in her voice made his stomach twist unpleasantly.

“How is your wound? I know you were-” Fin started immediately, the notion of him behaving with any measure of composure a forgotten memory.

“Mr. Ashowan, you’ve made your position clear. Please do not be heartless and behave so dotingly.” Her clipped tone cut through him, and Fin found himself slowly straightening his shoulders. He had unconsciously been leaning closer to her trying to be nearer to her being.

“My apologies,” he fought the urge to rub the back of his neck as Annika swept by him and plucked up her gloves from his table.

“I came back here because what I have to say would alert the King to our being more closely acquainted than he knows,” she began in a businesslike manner.

All Fin could do was swallow- albeit with great difficulty, and nod.

“His majesty is unaware that you know I am a spy. The rest of our… encounters, will obviously never come to light. I returned in order to give you some tips and insight for your duties.”

Annika didn’t bother removing her cloak as she clasped her hands gently in front of herself, her face a cool mask of poise and grace. In that moment, she was a Viscountess. A member of higher nobility bestowing Fin her expertise so that he wouldn’t make the whole scenario a blundering failure.

“Code words to use that will provoke my brother the most- his majesty mentioned one of them before; Dragon. That is my code name, and so if you use this he will definitely grow more interested and suspicious.”

While Fin was able to calm his features into one of serenity, his eyes still blazed as they continued meeting Annika’s.

“Another few words would be; Spice boats, rose dusk, and Troivack ale.”

Fin’s eyebrows twitched.

“I don’t suppose you’d be interested in telling me what those words meant when you did use them. For the sake of keeping things convincing.” He pried slightly.

“Sadly I cannot. That is a matter of great secrecy, not even the King knows all of it.” Her reply was brisk, and Fin was relatively certain he could see the tension in her shoulders.

“Are there any other helpful tips my Lady might think to bestow upon me?” Fin couldn’t help the slightly dry tone of voice as he tried to remember how they were being so rigid towards each other thanks to his decision, and he needed to live with that.

“Yes. Stop doing things for free. You’re worth more than this.” She gestured vaguely around the cramped space. “I am not saying that for any other reason than as someone who knows about political advancement.” Annika explained when Fin’s expression turned wary.

“Villagers who volunteer to fight in a war and serve their country don’t expect anything more than a small pay.” The redhead pointed out tightly. He was already feeling himself grow deeply uncomfortable.

“A village soldier who saves hundreds of people- including the King’s wife and unborn, receives financial rewards and at the very least a promotion in the military.” Annika pointed out flatly.

“If you’d had an ounce of political acumen, you’d be already in a far more esteemed position. You probably would’ve already been Knighted if you had played your cards right. Not to mention being a witch? You could even seek to become a diplomat between the Coven and his majesty.” Her gaze was fierce as she leveled Fin with a no-nonsense look.

It took the redhead a minute to gather his thoughts and burning pride to reply.

“There have not been enough incidents with witches in the Kingdom to warrant a diplomat between the Coven and the castle. As for being Knighted and promoted… I don’t want to be a Knight. I don’t want to be a warrior. I’m a cook. I love cooking, creating recipes, taking care of people in my own way from afar. Sometimes a good bowl of soup or a buttered piece of fresh bread can make a terrible day feel better. I love what I do. I don’t do it because I need money, or I want power… I do it because it’s how I make the world better.” Fin no longer could meet her eyes. He had never once in his life felt ashamed for his profession. Had never felt guilty for not wanting to be more… At least until the past few weeks.

“The only reason I would ever want more is to…” Fin trailed off and felt his right hand clench into a fist. No. He couldn’t say it.

“For me?” Annika’s voice was soft.

He couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t take whatever he’d find in her face.

Pity? Disappointment?

“I’ll admit, I don’t want to be seen or treated as weak or deficient like when I was growing up, but…”

“-You like being a cook.” She finished for him quietly.

Steeling himself, Fin looked at Annika. He was attempting to brace himself for whatever soul-crushing reaction he’d find in her beautiful face.

What he saw however, was a look of such clear, abundant...

‘No. Don’t think it. Please, no.’ Fin begged himself.

She wasn’t upset or angry with him.

She was something much, much worse.

“Why do you keep everyone far from you if you like what you do?” Annika asked gently. The warmth in her voice could’ve brought a lesser man to his knees.

“Not everyone feels as accepting of witches. Not to mention a lot of people think we can just magic away their issues, or predict their futures. You can be friends with someone who says they understand, but if they’re ever in trouble and you can’t help them, things aren’t ever the same.” A haunted look crossed Fin’s face, and even though Annika wanted to ask questions, she held her tongue.

“I think the people in your kitchen are more accepting than you realize. You’ve taught them well.” Even though there was a soft teasing note to Annika’s words, Fin couldn’t help but fight a cold sweat.

“I don’t really want to find out again,” he replied his voice rasping.

Giving his head a shake, the witch rubbed the back of his neck and let out a long breath.

“I really am sorry. I honestly have no idea why for you it’s… me of all people.” Fin suddenly felt incredibly weary, as he once again met the Lady’s eyes, and noted the gentle pursing of her mouth.

“For many reasons. But if Hank taught me anything,” Annika took a shaky steadying breath. “Love is one of those damnable parts of life we can’t always fully understand.”

Fin felt doused in warm glowing magic.

She’d said it.

He couldn’t’ dismiss what he thought he saw in her gaze from before anymore.

She loved him.

In that moment, nothing else existed.

Time could’ve stopped for all he knew.

There was a force greater than he could fathom filling the air, and he didn’t know what to do about it.

“If you could trust me Fin- take a leap of faith? I think I could make it possible for us.” She whispered the words, and the cook felt emotions grip his throat closed.

“I just need to know you are in this with me as much as I am. I won’t lie and say there isn’t a risk, but I’m willing to try if you are.” Despite her face being composed and controlled, Fin saw her grip her gloves.

His heart screamed to accept.

Yet the image of Annika toiling away the rest of her life as a peasant leapt into his mind’s eye and stopped him.

How those warm loving eyes could change and regard him with cold hatred. How she would place her trust in him, but he would fail her one day. Then all he would be able to do would be to watch the chasm between them grow and grow helplessly, while they remained imprisoned together by their youthful transgressions.

Petrified by indecision and the shadows that lurked in his mind, Fin said nothing. He continued wrestling with himself, trying to win… win against the voices of his father, his tutor, the villagers, his best friend Ian…

Even the voice of reason!

Annika shifted.

“I won’t make this offer again, Fin. Believe it or not, I do have a little bit of pride left. If you’re worried about having to see me upon rejecting me… truthfully, while I soon won’t be required to marry one of the Zinferans or the Troivackian… I might consider doing so regardless. It seems my time in the castle after the war may be better explored elsewhere.” She said with a sad smile, as she swallowed back a lump in her throat she wanted to hate.

She wanted to be angry with him, wanted to rage at him, but there wasn’t anything in her to ignite with fury. Annika hated it, but he was being honest with her. He was showing her exactly who he was, and that in itself was a far larger risk than he normally took.

It wouldn’t be enough though.

How could she draw out a man who had been beaten into submission for nearly thirty years?

Because that much was obvious whenever she saw him.

While he was beginning to find his place in the world, he may not be ready to take risks for a while yet, and she wasn’t really the kind of Lady who liked to wait about.

Her words about potentially marrying again made Fin go visibly pale, but the Viscoutness turned to the door to leave all the same.

“I’m sorry about the rose.” Fin blurted out, his voice coming out a croak.

Annika whirled around, an incredulous look on her face.

“That was you?!”

“I-I- I meant to give it as a ‘get well soon’ gift. You were sleeping though, I shouldn’t have entered your chamber I know I-”

Annika crossed the room in three steps and kissed him.

It was breathtakingly perfect, and yet just as perfectly heartbreaking when she pulled away from him.

Fin stared down into Annika’s openly broken expression.

“Think of it as a goodbye kiss. Take care Fin, and be safe.”

Without another word, the Lady Jenoure had whisked herself into the shadows of the night without a second glance back.

Then all too quickly, the silence swallowed Fin whole, leaving him standing alone and defeated.