The silence between them stretched—thick, heavy, and fragile.
Evelyn stood still, petals clinging to her cloak like quiet confessions. Caelan watched her with hope carefully folded behind his eyes. Alexander stood opposite him, a wall of quiet fire and barely leashed restraint.
Two men.
One truth.
And her heart pounding louder than her thoughts.
"I didn't ask for any of this," Evelyn said finally, voice quiet. "Not the games. Not the danger. And definitely not the attention of two incredible men who... both make me feel seen."
Alexander's jaw twitched. Caelan's breath caught.
"I've known you both for so long," she continued. "Caelan, you were there when no one else was. You've always protected me, not because you had to, but because you wanted to. I will always be grateful for that."
A pause.
"But I can't lie to you. Or to myself."
Her eyes lifted—straight to Alexander.
"When I see you," she said, voice trembling just slightly, "I don't feel safe. I feel everything. Fire. Storms. Things I don't know how to name yet. And maybe that's terrifying, but it's also real."
Alexander's breath hitched.
"I don't want to choose comfort," she whispered. "I want to choose the one who sets my soul on fire. Even if he makes me want to scream half the time."
Caelan looked away.
"I'm sorry," she said, turning toward him. "You deserve more than second place in anyone's heart."
"I know," Caelan said softly. "But I'd rather lose you to truth than win you with a lie."
He offered a crooked smile, one filled with both ache and peace.
Then he stepped back.
And Alexander—who had stood motionless like a statue carved in control—finally moved.
He crossed the space between them slowly, deliberately. As if afraid she might vanish if he moved too fast.
But she didn't.
She stayed.
He stopped just before her. Close enough to breathe her in, but far enough that she could still walk away.
Evelyn reached up—and touched his face.
"I hate how much you make me feel," she murmured.
"I hate how long it took me to let myself feel anything at all," he replied.
Their lips met in a kiss that wasn't soft, or perfect.
It was honest.
A surrender, a promise, a beginning.
And somewhere in the distance, a bell tolled—the signal of the upcoming festival.
The one where everything would change.