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WALKING IN THE WIND
xix. AN UNEXPECTED DATE

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  HOPE ALWAYS THOUGHT HER name was a bit... on the nose.

  For the most part, she was an optimist. She actively chose to believe in the good that the universe could be, hoping that all of the bad things that came to her had good intentions. Everything must happen for a reason, she would think, and that reason is something I must trust. Even on the darkest days of her life, she flocked with light.

  Sure, there were times where she wanted to scream and cry for hours or sulk and stare at a wall until she went cross-eyed, but for the most part, she was confident that everything would be okay. Maybe not today, but in time, all would be well.

  Today was no different.

  The past 24 hours in Narnia were nothing short of hectic. A secret marriage, a flurry of furious fairies, a missing king, a misguided handmaid, Odette's 18th birthday. It was all very chaotic, and for someone who led a rather tame life, Hope struggled to wrap her head around it. She never would've thought that pretending like something never happened could be so arduous.

  Luckily, as always, the princess was a wonderful distraction. Hope found herself laughing aloud as Odette told her all about her morning of misfortune. She scolded her best friend for laughing at her, but they both knew she was only kidding. After seeing that Hope was safe and sound, Odette was feeling much better. That and her birthday gifts from her fiancé and Hope lifted her spirits tremendously. She wasn't even sure what she would do with the pixie dust, but she was excited nonetheless.

  As Hope helped Odette get ready for her birthday ball, the princess found herself giggling uncontrollably as she listened to the story about her handmaid's adventure. Hope didn't mention the soul-binding spell or the fact that she kissed her best friend's fiancé, but she told her everything else. This was enough for the princess, who was more excited that her best friend actually left the castle for once.

  But soon, Queen Lydia, Susan, and Lucy requested to spend more time with the princess before the ball, and Hope was promptly kicked out. It seemed that the second the handmaid stepped out of Odette's bedroom, all of her worries returned to her. All she could think about was the fact that she'd accidentally gotten married. She knew everything would be okay. She was certain of it. This would all be a funny memory she'd laugh at in a few years. She just had to persevere, and she'd be fine. She had to be.

  Hope thought that distracting herself by helping the other servants finish setting up for the ball would make her feel better, but it somehow made her feel worse. Everyone was obsessively discussing Edmund and Odette's wedding next week, and all Hope wanted to do was shout, "WELL, IT DOESN'T MATTER BECAUSE THE MORON ACCIDENTALLY GOT MARRIED TO AN EVEN BIGGER MORON!"

  She bet it would be quite satisfying just screaming that at the top of her lungs. But because she feared being sentenced to death, she decided she'd keep that thought to herself.

  It was nice being back with servants again. They were her people, after all. Once the entirety of Cair Paravel simmered down after the early afternoon's events, the majority of them personally went up to Hope to express how glad they were that she was safe. It was nice knowing some people actually cared about her. Maybe they didn't care about her as much as they did the royals, but that small fraction made her smile, which made it easier to keep up her fake smile throughout the day.

  Despite everything somehow working out, she was devastated knowing she could never have the boy she fancied. She could never tell anyone about it. She could never hold his hand, she could never wake up in the morning next to him knowing that all was right in the world. Whatever they could have had, it left as soon as it came.

  Thankfully, with the ball being tonight, she could spend the evening alone — probably sulking and pretending she was asleep when she just wanted to be alone with her thoughts. The thought sounded more and more appealing as time went by. Maybe she could sneak off earlier than she was supposed to...

  But before she could decide how she would do that, a young King went waltzing around the corner where all of the servants were busily working.

  "Lady Hope!" beckoned Peter Pevensie. Seeing his beaming face was almost contagious to Hope. That smile she'd been faking all day felt less painful to wear. The blond king sauntered toward her, almost floating. "I've been on the hunt for you! I didn't realize you weren't with Odette."

  Hope blinked twice at him, almost not processing the fact that the High King of Narnia would be in search of her, of all people. Suddenly, and without any warning whatsoever, a pang of anxiety pounded against her chest. For some reason, she'd decided at that moment that Peter Pevensie somehow knew everything about her dirty little secret and was here to tell her she was going to jail.

  She nervously chuckled. "Oh? Is there something I can do for you, Your Majesty?"

  Peter opened his mouth to reply, only for his gaze to shift. His bright blue eyes glanced back at the shamelessly eavesdropping servants around them. "Might I suggest we go somewhere more private?" he kindly asked.

  Hope felt faint. He knows everything.

  Forcing herself to smile wider, she replied, "Is... there a reason you wish to speak in private?"

  "Well, I reckon saying it aloud makes the affair less private," Peter joked.

  And although he was joking, Hope nearly choked on her spit at his choice of words.

  But what else was she supposed to do? Run away screaming? Say no? Fall onto her knees and beg for forgiveness before he'd even accused her of anything? No, she needed to play it cool.

  With a curt nod, Hope excused herself and followed him away from the ballroom. Once they entered the hallway, the grand doors shutting behind them, silence greeted them. Finally, Peter spoke up.

  "I just thought I'd check in on you after your disappearance yesterday," reported Peter. "You gave Odette quite a scare. Is she usually like that when she's distressed?"

  Be cool, be cool, be cool, Hope desperately thought.

  "Yes, unfortunately," she replied with a chuckle. "Thank you for the concern, but I'm alright. I wouldn't have gotten out of that alive if it weren't for Edmund."

  "Ah, that's a relief!" said Peter. "I'm glad you're alright, Lady Hope. And you returned just in time for the ball this evening."

  She furrowed her eyebrows, silent, puzzled. That was when she realized Peter was unaware of a minor detail.

  "Oh, I don't attend those," she revealed as they strolled through the castle. "I'm sort of not allowed to anymore."

  To her surprise, Peter snickered. "Oh, please tell me what you could've done to cause that," he invited. "You hardly seem to act out of line, so it must've been bad."

  She hesitated. She hated recalling the story. It was quite embarrassing.

  "Well..." she began. "A few years ago when I started as Odette's lady-in-waiting, Odette decided to invite me to a ball they were throwing for Wysteria's allies in the east. I was really nervous because it was my first ball ever. At some point in the night, I decided to step outside to get some air, and I found the prince of our allies sort of... harassing Odette, who very clearly wasn't interested in him. The only problem was that he wasn't getting the hint, you know? Anyway, er, long story short, when he tried to force himself on her, I, um... sort of went up and kneed him in... a very unfortunate place to be kneed."

  Immediately, Peter erupted with laughter as Hope's cheeks flushed. She continued, "It was the most embarrassing thing I've ever done, especially when I realized he was a bloody prince. Luckily, he was drunk, so he didn't remember that I was the one who did it. Odette ended up taking the blame and King David and Queen Lydia punished me by banning me from attending any future balls."

  "Lion's Mane, that's brilliant!" laughed Peter. "I never would've pegged you to do something like that!"

  "It was horrifying!" she cried despite laughing anyway. What could she say? He deserved it. "I thought my father would've been furious with me when he found out, but he laughed so hard he cried."

  "That's incredible," he went on. "I'm impressed, Lady Hope! Though, that's an odd punishment, wouldn't you say?"

  "I don't think so," confessed Hope. "I have no status or title, so it doesn't make sense why a handmaid would attend a royal event of any sort. I mean, I'm just barely allowed to attend my best friend's wedding. That's just how things are." She shrugged, thinking nothing of her words. "Sometimes I show up at the end to aid in cleaning up, but that's the extent of it."

  Conversely, Peter was appalled. "That's ridiculous! Balls are meant to be celebrations of life and meaningful events. I'd know because Susan is always going on about how important they are when none of us want to attend them," he insisted. "Who cares about status during times of joy?"

  Peter was beginning to find his future in-laws (minus Odette) very strange, which was what prompted him to suddenly ask, "You know what? Why don't you attend the ball with me?"

  Hope chuckled. "Right. And then, I'll pretend I'm a Queen of Narnia after!" she joked.

  "Come on, I'm being serious!" insisted Peter. They stopped walking as she stared at him for a moment, astounded. Unexpectedly, Hope began to chortle. "What's so funny?"

  "Your Majesty, I think King David would have a stroke if I attended the ball."

  "All the more reason why you should come with me!" he contended. "It would be quite funny, you know."

  Hope only continued to stare at him. "...Do you have a death wish or something?" she queried. She couldn't understand his logic. "Do you want King David and Queen Lydia to loathe you? You realize you're nearly family."

  "Well, in-laws are never fun anyway," Peter dismissed. "Besides, I don't have to impress them. Ed does. I think it would be fun. And you're lovely company—"

  "Wait, wait, slow down," Hope interrupted. "Wait, are you... are you mental? You can't be serious! I'm a handmaid—"

  "So?"

  "So," she mocked, "it's not my place. You'd be a laughing stock."

  "On the contrary, Miss Edwards, we live in a world where magic is plentiful and animals can speak," Peter stubbornly said. "I doubt having you accompany me tonight is the most bizarre thing that's happened around here. Besides, you're not only a handmaid. You're a friend now, are you not?"

  "I don't think you understand—"

  "No, I understand perfectly," Peter interrupted. "Well, that settles it. Hope, you're attending this ball with me. As friends, of course."

  She shook her head. "I didn't say yes—"

  "True, but you're far too loyal for your own good. Would you dare defy your future king?" Peter declared, his eyes glittering with mischief. He'd never looked more like Edmund in the months she'd known him until that moment.

  Hope was quiet. He had her right where he wanted her. She scoffed, surprised. "You're... unlike any king I've ever met," she eventually muttered. "Why are you being so nice to me, of all people? Why not Odette?"

  "Well, the ball is for Odette!"

  "Aslan, you're more like Edmund than I recall," she said. The two chuckled, albeit lightly. It was nothing more than the sound of echoing footsteps or a breath in the dead of night. But their smiles were enough for Hope to feel comfortable, safe. She wished all kings were like Peter. "Well, even if you order me, I can't go tonight. I have to help with the preparations and I have nothing to wear—"

  "Did you honestly expect me to drag you to a fancy occasion with nothing to wear?" Peter interrupted with a chuckle. He started to walk away from her. "Come along, Hope. We have much to do before tonight!"

  "What, hey!" Hope called, hurrying over to his side again. "What about King David and Queen Lydia?"

  "Hope, you can't live your life in fear. That's what life is all about: trial and error. Where's the fun in standing in line all the time?" Peter countered. "This could be good for you." Before she could argue again, Peter said, "Sometimes, the greatest opportunities come from taking a risk. These things don't just fall on one's lap, it needs to be pursued. Sometimes, you must dangle your feet in the water in order to attract the sharks."

  Peter continued, "Besides, this could be good for me, as well. I've been in search of someone to distract me from the boring chats of parleys and parliament! So, if it's all the same to you, we're running a bit behind schedule—"

  "Wait, did you... anticipate I'd say yes to this?" queried Hope.

  Peter only chuckled. "You'll find that I can be very persuasive, Miss Edwards," he said.

  "Yes, you all are," Hope admitted. "Must be a Pevensie thing."

  "Something like that."

○ ○ ○

  Every day, the Pevensie siblings continued to surprise Hope, which she supposed must be why they were such extraordinary Kings and Queens. They each had something that the other didn't have, making each other stronger overall. But despite this, they were still children. Even the eldest siblings were more like children than adults — though somehow, this made them better royals than the King and Queen of Wysteria, in Hope's opinion.

  Peter surprised her the most, perhaps because he was the High King. Peter Pevensie was a collection of every nobleman she'd ever known, taking their best traits and leaving the worst. Or maybe that was just Hope looking for the best in others again.

  It was strange being treated almost like a doll. She'd seen Odette get dressed and ready for these kinds of events all the time, but being in her shoes instead of shining them was an experience she couldn't quite describe. It was even stranger having King Peter help her pick out her dress and telling her how to do her hair (with the aid of some servants, of course). She wasn't sure how he knew so much about women and their fashion, but part of her assumed it must have something to do with having two sisters.

  As the hours ticked onward and the sky dimmed, Hope's nervousness worsened. She stood before King Peter that evening with a frown tugging on her youthful face and eyebrows knitted together, a seemingly permanent expression of worry cemented to her features. She would've been pacing back and forth, her emerald gown dragging behind her, had her corset not been suffocating her.

  "Peter, do I look stupid?"

  "What? Of course not!"

  "Maybe I should just run while I still can."

  "I don't think you'll get very far in that corset."

  "I will if you give me a head-start, Your Majesty."

  "Hope, you look lovely. I would know. I was the one that helped you get ready," Peter smugly said, causing her to shoot him a pointed look.

  They were currently waiting to be called into the ballroom, which was filled with dozens upon dozens of Narnians, Wysterians, and their allies, such as those from Calormen and Archenland. All of those people and creatures would watch High King Peter walk inside with a dirty handmaiden by his side. Of course, Hope was nervous!

  "You don't have to be nice to me, you know," Hope reminded him for what must've been the umpteenth time that day. "You can just tell me the truth."

  Peter nodded. "Well..." he lingered, almost like he was about to insult her.

  "Wha—Hey, I didn't mean insult me!"

  But Peter just chortled once more. "You women can be so confusing," he teased. Her green eyes narrowed, causing him to hold his hands up in defense, "I'm joking! You look amazing, Hope. I wouldn't let you go in there if you didn't."

  Hope sighed. She couldn't help that she was so nervous. The thought of all of those people staring at her made her feel uneasy. She was used to standing in the background. She belonged in the shadows, not under the light.

  Peter had been kind to her every time she'd erupt with her anxieties. He was more reassuring than she would've expected, but according to him, he had a lot of experience with his sisters, especially Susan, who was the greatest worry-wart he'd ever known. That being said, Peter knew to keep calm and to reassure her as much as he could — and somehow, he did it without an ounce of annoyance or impatience.

  "What if I fall in front of everyone?"

  "Then I'll fall with you."

  "What if King David and Queen Lydia threaten to kill me?"

  "Hope, you realize that's probably the last thing they'll do."

  "Have you met them? They once threatened to kill a servant for bringing strawberry jam instead of grape to breakfast!"

  "That's awful!" exclaimed Peter. And just before Hope could agree, he asked, "Who prefers grape over strawberry jam?"

  "That's not the point!"

  With a smile, Peter extended his hands, placing it on her shoulders. "You'll be fine. I promise," he assured.

  "And if I'm not?"

  "Well, that defeats the point of my promise."

  Hope shook her head. She could see what he was doing — making jokes to make her feel better. He wondered if that was something the siblings did often, for she recalled Edmund did the same when she required reassurance.

  A footman poked his head through a crack in the grand doors, asking Peter if they were ready to enter. Before Hope could utter a word, Peter nodded and the footman was gone.

  Meanwhile, past the sumptuous doors was a beautiful ballroom full of people with sparkling grins and clinking glasses. They smile and shake hands, sucking you into small talk and blocking off the exits with the skirts of their finest gowns. Edmund Pevensie followed Odette Dunbar throughout the room, trying his best not to let out the yawn that was trapped in his throat.

  Don't get him wrong, Odette wasn't the problem. He just despised occasions like these. He didn't care for parties and making conversation with people whose names he'd forget by dawn. Getting close to Narnia's allies was the only decent thing about balls, but he didn't understand why he had to dress up to do so.

  He was ever so glad that Odette was, much like Susan, talkative. He wondered if she could sense that he didn't particularly want to be there, and she was just saving him. But then again, Odette had been doing this her whole life — far longer than Edmund and his siblings had. She probably knew how to give speeches and things of the sort before she knew how to recite the alphabet.

  Edmund stood beside his fiancée, watching as she animatedly spoke to a small group of guests. She was glowing in every aspect of the word, from her shiny blonde hair to her sparkling green eyes, from the expensive jewelry on her neck to her sunkissed skin and her satin gown. Everything about Odette screamed elegance, royalty, and sophistication, and yet, Edmund's mind wandered to the awkward handmaid who once swept him off his feet.

  He would be lying if he said he hadn't been thinking about Hope all day — so much to the point where he was on the verge of fleeing the ball just to find and talk to her. About what, he didn't know. It was like after last night, the fog in his brain cleared away, and all that remained was her. He just wanted to see her again and pretend things weren't what their reality was.

  Edmund hardly turned when the footman announce his brother's entrance to the ballroom, just as he had for everyone else (aside from Lucy, who Edmund proudly smiled at as she and Mr. Tumnus descended the steps). But when he heard who was accompanying the High King, he swore he must've hit his head or something of the sort:

  "Introducing High King Peter, the Magnificent," called the footman, his voice booming through the ballroom. Heads turned to face him, smiling in awe at the glorious man, "and Lady Hope Edwards!"

  That was odd. Edmund could've sworn he heard—Holy shit.

  Standing at the top of the staircase was his brother, who was beaming as he bowed his head to his guests. He radiated much like the sun during the summer solstice, yet somehow, the girl with the fiery hair managed to outshine him that evening. Her eyes were wide, her emerald dress (which wasn't a perfect fit, but it was close enough) bringing out the forest in her irises. Her hair laid almost perfectly, like every curl was adjusted with love and intention. She was perfect in every way he could imagine. Edmund tried not to let what he was feeling show, but he knew he was failing immensely. Eyes wide, he swallowed the knot in his throat as he gazed upon the girl who'd taken up his mind the last few months.

  He could only imagine what she was thinking as she stood up there, worried out of her mind, not realizing she was the prettiest girl in the entire bloody room. The thought made him want to snicker, but he refrained as applause filled the ballroom, and Peter and Hope made their descent. He saw how she gripped Peter's arm as he whispered something to her, and for a moment, jealousy flashed through Edmund.

  Hope's eyes flickered between the faces in the crowd until finally, she spotted Edmund. The nervous look she had been sporting vanished, a small smile replacing it. And when she smiled at him, Edmund felt at peace again. It was as though everyone disappeared except for them.

  Only when Odette excitedly squealed in Edmund's ears did he return to reality. Before he knew it, his fiancée was scurrying across the ballroom, leaving him in her stead after quickly rattling off something along the lines of, "Be right back!"

  So it seemed that the princess hadn't known that Hope would appear at the ball tonight, for she ran so fast, he could've sworn she must've grown wings without anyone knowing. Despite the constraints of her corset, Princess Odette flung her arms around Hope, giggling eagerly.

  Edmund was in such a daze after seeing Hope — standing there, looking like that — he didn't even move until a whole minute passed. As he approached Hope, Peter, and Odette, their conversation became more apparent:

  "You are just full of surprises these days! I can't believe you didn't tell me you were coming tonight!" Odette shouted, her voice, as usual, resounding over all of the noise as everyone returned to their conversations.

  "Trust me, Ode, if I knew, I would've asked one of you to ban corsets from Narnia at the last minute."

  "Oh, they're not that bad!"

  "I'm sorry, some of us have organs!"

  Odette only shook her head, laughing lightheartedly. "I'm so glad you're here, Hope, really," she sweetly said, taking the handmaid's hands in hers. She glanced at Peter. "How'd you convince her?"

  "I think the better term is order," corrected Hope, shooting Peter a harmless glare.

  "Oh, please, you're happy you came along," Peter insisted, waving his hand. "You don't think your parents are too upset, do you?"

  Odette hummed. "Probably. They might go ballistic," she absentmindedly replied, causing Hope's eyes to widen.

  "Really?!" Hope worriedly asked, causing Odette to snicker again.

  "No, I just wanted to see the look on your face," Odette cooed, squeezing Hope's cheeks with her gloved hand lovingly. Hope didn't fight it, only rolling her eyes at her best friend. "You'll be fine. Besides, it's my birthday, and you're my best friend. They won't say anything unless they want me to give them a piece of my mind." She glanced to her right where Edmund approached them, adding, "Tell her, dear."

  Edmund raised an eyebrow, that stupid smile of his tugging on his lips. "Tell her what? That she should start planning what she'll wear to her date with the guillotine?" he taunted.

  Hope scoffed as the others laughed. "You're evil," she said.

  "If I was evil, I would've sacrificed you to the fairies," Edmund remarked.

  "Weren't you the one who led us to them in the first place?"

  Peter shook his head. "You two bicker like an old married couple, I swear," he commented. And had either of them been paying attention to Hope and Edmund, they would've seen how their eyes widened. Peter turned to Odette, offering his arm, "Would you mind accompanying me for a moment, Odette? There are a few colleagues of ours I've been waiting to introduce you to. We'll be back in just a minute, Hope. Just a few responsibilities that must be tended to first."

  Hope felt her heart drop into her stomach. Before she could argue, Odette was already saying yes. She merely turned to Edmund and asked him to stay with Hope until they returned.

  Awkwardly chuckling, Hope watched their figures fade into the distance and asked, "How do we always end up like this?"

  "You're beautiful."

  Hope whipped her head back to face him, her untameable curls following suit. Her cheeks burned scarlet as she nervously smiled at him. "Really? I feel ridiculous," she admitted. "I'm not sure how you all do this every day."

  "Well, it's easy when you're already attractive, to begin with—"

  "Aren't I supposed to be the one that compliments you, you git?"

  Grinning widely, he simply said, "You were taking too long." Then, he hesitated. "Are you... Are you okay? After last night, I was worried."

  Hope sighed. "Something like that. And you?"

  "Something like that," he copied. "I can't stop thinking about you—er, it."

  "Me, too. I feel like I'm still dreaming or something," she confessed. "Every time someone looks at me differently, I'm convinced they know everything."

  "Always so paranoid," Edmund kidded. "You'll fit in with the family perfectly. You're almost as bad as Su. I think Hope Pevensie has a ring to it, yeah?"

  Hope's eyes widened as she hit his arm. "Are you out of your mind? We're not—" She lowered her voice into a whisper, "—supposed to talk about this in front of everyone." She cleared her throat, speaking up again, "Besides, Edmund Edwards sounds better to me."

  Scoffing, he retorted, "You want me to change my surname? In your dreams, dove."

  "You say that like it's the craziest thing that's happened this week," Hope quipped, earning a laugh from Edmund that summoned a swarm of butterflies in her stomach.

  To her surprise, Edmund motioned to the dance floor where dozens and dozens of couples were linked together, dancing to the music with elegance and grace. "May I have this dance?"

  With an arched eyebrow, Hope queried, "You realize we're supposed to act like we aren't... you know."

  "Friends dance together, too, darling," Edmund corrected, motioning to Lucy and Mr. Tumnus in the distance, who were laughing wildly and happily. "Come on, it'll distract you from your nerves."

  "How could you tell I was nervous?"

  "You're like my favorite book," Edmund dismissively told her, almost a bit shyly judging how quickly the words left his mouth.

  As her cheeks tinted pink again, she defeatedly sighed and gave in. If she hadn't known a thing or two about ballroom dancing, she would've stubbornly stayed put until Peter returned to her. Her father taught her everything she knew, and despite stepping on her toes growing up, she wasn't bad at all. Edmund took her hand carefully, as though she were made of glass, guiding her forward.

  Let it be known, Edmund Pevensie was a terrible dancer for a long time, even after his first few balls in Narnia. Something about doing it in front of so many people made him uncomfortable, and he just couldn't relax. But soon, he discovered that dancing required technique and strategy, much like battles do, and he became better — so much to the point where he honestly didn't mind it anymore when he had the right partner. Luckily, Hope was more than right; she was perfect.

  The two overtook the dance floor, the music vibrating through them. Hope surprisingly relaxed under his touch as they danced alongside Narnia's guests. They smiled at each other, gazes locked intensely as they circled the others around them. It was almost magical the way they moved together — as if no one was watching. Of course, Hope didn't feel that way.

  "Please tell me people aren't staring," Hope whispered to Edmund, trying desperately to keep her gaze on his face.

  He smirked down at her before glancing away briefly. "I wouldn't know," he told her. "I haven't looked at anyone else since you walked in."

  Hope had to hold her breath. "You have to stop flirting with me," she lowly hissed.

  Edmund didn't reply with something sarcastic as he usually did. Instead, he muttered, "Tell me you want me to marry her."

  "...What?"

  "Tell me you want me to marry her—Odette," repeated Edmund, "and I'll stop right now."

  Hope hesitated. "You know I can't do that, Edmund." When his eyes shifted back to her, she had to look away. Oh, she despised how nervous he made her.

  "Why not?"

  "Because I don't want to lie to you."

  Edmund only shook his head. "You deserve better."

  "We don't have to talk about this right now—" started Hope.

  "But it's true," he insisted, tightening his grip around her waist slightly, almost fearful she'll disappear into thin air or something equally as undesirable. "You should know it."

  Hope fell silent. For a moment, she wished the ground would swallow her whole or time would speed ahead to a point where everything would be okay. But that wasn't plausible. Hope still had to face her problems, whether she liked it or not.

  "If you really believed that," she started after a pause, "you'd agree to take my surname."

  He stared at her briefly before a smile broke out across his face again. "You're a strange one, dove," Edmund said.

  A bittersweet laugh escaped her as they continued to dance. To anyone who wasn't listening to their conversation, they seemed so carefree, innocent. Just a pair of friends who were celebrating the princess's birthday. Nothing more, nothing less. It was all so very dark-sided.

  For now, they would have this — this moment in time where the world was calm and turning, this moment where the sky hadn't yet fallen and gravity was still holding them down. If they couldn't have what they truly wanted, then this would have to be enough. It was the moments where everything looked alright on the outside when they felt like crumbling on the inside.

  Hope couldn't help but wonder not how she'd survive after Edmund and Odette's wedding, but if she'd survive at all.