Nerys sat brooding in the darkness, in a chair opposite the bed she had shared with Calyx. The object of her intent was oblivious to her regard, lost to the deep peace of slumber. Nerys raised one fingertip to her lips, brushed it over the lingering taste of Calyx’s kiss. In her veins, the echo of the blonde’s magic still burned. She lowered her hand, a half-smile softening her full mouth. Part of her hated herself for it, but another part, equally adamant, was not sorry at all.

Calyx shifted, turning onto her back. Nerys let her gaze rove across each firm muscle, every soft curve that dipped and rose beneath the sheets. She lay with one arm thrust above her head, and Nerys allowed herself to stare without remorse – she’d always had a soft spot for beautiful things. The radiance of Calyx’s hair fascinated her, a spectrum of shimmering sunlight, deep gold through bright copper and every shade between.

Calyx murmured in her sleep. Nerys watched unknowable dreams flutter beneath her eyelids, and leaned her chin in her hands with a heavy sigh. For a moment, her impenitence wavered.

If Fayne could see her now… If she knew what she had done…

No. She didn’t care what Fayne would think… did she?

She got to her feet, pulled the light blanket tighter across her shoulders. Soft-footed, she returned to the bed, slipped beneath the covers, and looked down at Calyx. She hesitated, a silent war raging within her, but then reached out and caressed her cheek. Gods, she was beautiful – fine-featured, full of power… It hummed just beneath her skin. Nerys didn’t even have to lean down to hear its soft singing – she could feel it thrum in time to her heartbeat. It still danced within her, a drug she didn’t want to refute.

“What am I to do with you?” she whispered, shaking her head softly against the enormity of her dilemma.

Calyx opened her eyes as if summoned by her words, and they stared at each other for a tense moment.

Nerys pushed upright, away. “Good,” she snapped, “You’re awake.”

Calyx groaned. “Still here, are you?”

“We need to talk about last night.”

Calyx rubbed sleep from her lashes. “Seriously, Nerys? It still is last night!” She squinted against the pounding in her head. “Gods, if you’re this much of a morning person, this definitely isn’t going to work.”

Nerys waved her hand and held out a steaming mug of Devadaru tea. Calyx’s glower lightened.

“Alright,” she said, sitting up and accepting the cup with reasonable grace. “I suppose you just want to pretend it didn’t happen?”

Nerys brooded. “Excellent, something we can agree on.”

“Spoilsport,” Calyx muttered.

She pushed back the covers and slid from the bed. Turning her back on Nerys, she took her mug to the window. Cupping it with both hands, she sipped at it as she watched the rising dawn.

Nerys got to her feet, feeling empty at the distance between them, and padded across the room to join her. Gazing out, she folded her arms, drawing on her resolve.

“I mean it, Calyx.”

Calyx huffed onto her tea. “Am I arguing? I’ve done some stupid things but, really, this takes the prize.”

“Absolutely,” Nerys flipped her a sideways glance, “Sleeping with the enemy? What a grand idea. Esadora is going to kill you.”

Calyx snorted. “And Fayne? She hardly seems the forgiving type.”

“Quite right – she’ll be eager to destroy you, too.”

“I meant… Oh, never mind,” Calyx sighed, hugging her tea close. “I blame the wine. That, and the infernal magic that keeps sparking between us.”

Nerys rubbed her hands up her arms, smoothing the gooseflesh that rose at her words. Calyx glanced across, set her teacup on the windowsill, and turned to face her. As if invited, power hummed. It hung in the air, soft between them. Calyx reached out to swirl a hand through its shimmering wake, and Nerys met her starlight gaze.

“Why does it do that?”

Faint sparks glittered, dancing on her words. Silence stretched, deep, tenuous.

“Nerys, I…” she faltered, and Nerys’ brow knitted with barely concealed emotion.

“You…what?”

Calyx bit at her lip. She lowered her gaze, shook her head, and made to turn away, but Nerys caught her arm. Magic snapped.

“What?” Nerys whispered, holding fast, “Say it now – or forever hold your peace.”

“I…” Calyx looked down at the hand restraining her, back up into eyes warm as summer. She let her breath explode. “I don’t think I can pretend this didn’t happen, Nerys. I’ve been dreaming about you for twenty years.” She dipped her head, a blush colouring her cheek. “Ever since that night, you chased me Beyond…”

“Calyx-”

“I know, it’s ludicrous! But I can’t help it; I had twenty years upon the old world with only my thoughts for company – and I know, we stand Guardian to different Queens, I know, we’re destined to war on opposite sides… I know, I know! I just…”

Words failed her and her lips twitched into an unhappy line. Nerys loosened her grip, slipped her hand down to intertwine their fingers. Power hummed warm, and she looked up from smoky eyes.

“Calyx…”

Calyx’s lip trembled, but she forced herself to hold her gaze, holding onto her hand like a lifeline.

Nerys spoke slow, careful. “I want you to know, I won’t forget this-”

Calyx’s eyes flashed. “Nothing that comes before ‘but’ ever matters.”

“-but… I belong to Fayne.”

Calyx tore herself free, spun away. She gripped the windowsill, white-knuckled, and lashed out at her cup, smashing it into a million pieces. Nerys closed the gap between them, spinning her forcefully against the window. Calyx pressed her back against it, losing her breath beneath the ferocity of Nerys’ gaze.

“If you’d let me finish...”

The words were a devilish whisper; her lips hovered, a fraction away. Calyx bit at her own, staring up into Nerys’ soul.

“… as you belong to Jordenna. Remember? Ours is to bow to duty – I can’t begin something with you, even if I wanted to.”

Calyx swallowed. “If you… wanted to?”

Nerys stepped back, Calyx’s body followed. She caught herself, remained where she was, and Nerys’ stern posture diminished.

“Thoughts of you have haunted me too, Calyx. But what I want… is of no consequence.”

It was a murmur, heartfelt, overflowing with longing. But she lifted her chin, laced her fingers against her lap.

“We are Lat’Nemele, Calyx – for better or for worse. We do not get to play with affection; our emotions make us weak, volatile. You know that, as well as I. You have a princess to attend – do you think she’d understand your present distraction? That the World Queens would forgive your dereliction of obligation?”

Calyx blew out. “What would you know about that? You’ve never met a true World Queen.”

Nerys’ eyes glittered, though she remained passive.

“Actually, I met Asbeth – I’ve never felt power like that. They are important – and you are the reason I know that now. You are the Guardian of the next Queen, Calyx.” She paused to look out at the horizon, watching the unsympathetic passage of time. If only the day would wait… A brief shadow of emotion crossed her face. “I will not forget this night we’ve shared, but dawn is calling, dear.”

Calyx clucked her tongue. “By Malevelyn, you are frustrating.”

Nerys raised an eyebrow. “Especially when I’m right.”

Calyx cocked her head, then nodded with a sad smile. Nerys stepped closer.

“Do not misunderstand me, Calyx,” she sighed, “In another life, I could have been yours.”

“Nerys…”

The name, the plea, hung suspended. A thrum of magic flooded, rising between their impossible emotions. Nerys held herself rigid, fighting it, but the tide engulfed her – as Calyx moved, she melted to meet her. The soft rays of the rising sun illuminated their embrace; a moment stretched tender, steeped in longing, yet a salute to reality. Calyx stood back at last with a heavy sigh.

“Alright… you win.”

Nerys snorted with a toss of her head.

“There are no winners, dear. Not with something like this.”

Calyx gave a curt nod. She pursed her lips, straightened her spine, and the magic faded unwilling. A dying flicker, snuffed beneath the gusts of practicality.

“Come on, then,” she growled, “As you said, dawn breaks – and we have a long way still to go. We must reach Esadora before the power I leant you fades, otherwise, none of our present problems will matter much anymore.”

“Wouldn’t that be a blessing.”

Calyx raised her eyebrows but chose not to respond. Resolute, she swept from the room on a tide of bravado. Nerys, sagging beneath the weight of the argument she’d held tight in her teeth, paused for a breath.

She gathered herself, threw one last, despondent glance at the unforgiving break of day, and forced herself to follow.