— "Admire the stories the trees tell you."

They were on their way back home now. Mahrosh gazed out the window with eyes that were wet with crumpled spikes. She wasn't traumatized but her body was immobilized with fear still.

Wisterias flitted by.

Wisterias were everywhere.

Purple, violet, white, and mauve.

So many wisterias.

"I'm sorry, Mahrosh. I always put my stupid foot in my mouth." Daniya had apologized profusely and Mahrosh had begged her to stop but to no avail.

Her mind housed recent memories of agile arms, a rock-hard chest, and the warm breath of someone on her forehead who repeated the words 'I got you' like a litany until she believed him. She believed him.

Stop. It was a moment of weakness. That's all.

Haris drove the car expertly, familiar with the roads and maps of Raiya. Samar was riding shot-gun.

"No, please. I overacted, I was just not in the right state of mind." She tried to erase Daniya's worry.

"Cheer up, lads and ladies. The view at night is marvelous, especially when the fireflies come out." Haris bellowed dramatically, the jeep's tail lights flashed off. Maybe he wanted them to take in the scenery from behind.

"Fireflies?"

"They migrate over to the forest in the summers, this is peak season. If you're lucky you'll either find a sleeping mass of butterflies fresh out of their cocoons or a million little fireflies." He answered Samar, pointing a finger towards the forest. His face was pasted with a smile of pride. It was his home after all.

The wings of darkness loomed above them; in that time between sunset and the night where everything was a swathe of blurry greys with a bewildering, stillness in the air.

"Wow, the more I hear about this place, the better it gets." Her brother breathed out in reverence.

"Raiya is God's masterpiece."

Nothing could be more true.

But who would protect God's land?

His people or God Himself?

"Where's Mikail?" It was Samar who asked about him.

He'd left her with them in a rush, as if he couldn't wait to get away from her, rasping something about some work.

Well, she didn't care.

"He had an errand he needed to take care of."

Did he now?

"I'm so sorry for all the trouble and inconvenience at my expense. It was foolish of me to ride a horse I wasn't sure was trained or not." Mahrosh's tone was heavy with regret, she lifted her pleading eyes up to Haris in the rearview mirror but he only had kindness and compassion in his for her.

"It's pure luck, Violet was Mikail's latest inquisition and he was yet to train her, that's why she was in the outer stables."

That's why she'd been alone, separate from everyone else. The poor thing.

"She seemed harmless," Mahrosh mumbled, appalled at her own idiocy.

"I remember getting hyper too, I need to apologize to Mikail." Samar presented a picture of guilt and shame.

"He doesn't take these things to heart so don't be worried about hurting his sensibilities, you didn't offend him." He brushed it off like it was nothing, patting Samar on the shoulder.

"He seems like a very practical guy, reserved yet not a buzz-kill. He gets things done, I like that." Samar was definitely a fan.

"My brother does what needs to be done, duty comes first."

Just as the ominous words were divulged by Haris into the eerie night, a rain of arrows bathed the jeep. The whooshing sound blaring alarms in all their heads. The action of ducking down was reflexive despite the fact that all the windows were closed.

"What the hell!" The roar came from Haris who was navigating the car in the middle of such chaos.

For Mahrosh, today seemed cursed. The arrows dug deep into the jeep, the sounds petrifying.

"Duck down! Cover your heads!" He barked the command as a formality considering everyone was already forming a shield around themselves.

"Haris!"

The commotion died down as Haris raced the jeep down the road; away from their assailant. Their bodies shot up; they scanned each other and made sure everyone was okay.

"Samar, are you alright?!" She squeaked, asking after her brother's welfare. Her hands found his, crushing it in desperation.

"Oh, God...what the hell was that?!" Daniya blew out in horror.

No one knew.

"I...I don't know." The driver had no explanations or assurances for the horrified passengers.

"Take us home, Haris. Please." Mahrosh begged, imploring him to drive them out this ghoulish nightmare.

Home has to be safe if the woods weren't.

➽───────────────❥

"Who else could it be but the Robin Hood? Arrows, dad, he shot arrows on our vehicle." Her brother insisted, for the first time ever—he was dead serious. The word 'Robin Hood' a curse on his lips.

"Samar, stop it with this Robin Hood crap. He's a full-fledged criminal at this point, he attacked us with intent to I don't know—murder us?" Daniya's arm was curved around Mahrosh who stared into the fire silently, at loss for words.

The atmosphere in the room was so dangerously terrifying she was afraid she'd absorb it and die instantly...like a man infected by poisonous venom.

"I think it was more of a 'warning' to scare you guys off. If he wanted to shed blood, he had ample opportunity to do so throughout the day. It's obvious he had his eye on us all day long." Haris had his elbows placed on his knees, he spoke calmly and confidently; traces of sympathy clear in his tone.

"God, I feel unsafe and creeped out." The younger woman beside Mahrosh looked disturbed, muttering profanities under her breath.

"Where was Mikail?" Mr. Khan finally asked, eyeing the young man sitting on the sofa.

At his mention, a current shot up her spine, and she was once again stuck in indecision.

I got you.

But did he?

"He had something he needed to take care of," Haris explained truthfully.

"What was so important that he had to abandon my kids when I'd entrusted them with him?" Her father raged, slamming a glass down on the table; he never could tolerate accidents that happened with his kids. The staff took the burnt.

Mikail wasn't his staff. He was...Mikail.

"Haris is his brother, dad. No one knew this would have happened." Mahrosh's quiet, scratchy voice raised from a deep well. The flames crackled before her and she was lost in their dance.

"Mr. Imad, Mikail takes his responsibility seriously. He'll tell you exactly why he was busy and I am hoping you're sensible enough to understand." He felt obligated to defend his brother, of course for he knew he'd done nothing wrong.

Nothing wrong.

"We'll see about that."

"Uncle, it's time to take action. What are we waiting for? He attacked our family." Hamza was already on this agenda and this was the moment of weakness he'd been looking for. He could mold and shape his Uncle's opinion to his liking now.

Haris inspected the cunning man, he'd heard stories from the laborers but sitting in such close proximity—he knew now that he was indeed a man of a questionable character.

"This was crossing a line."

"Can we just...abandon this whole thing and go back home? It's obvious someone or some people—I don't know—but they don't want us here, dad. What's the point?" Samar heaved a sigh, deeply put off by what had happened. His eyes were strained and his posture was slack with the knowledge that they'd escaped death. The spellbinding mystical magic of Raiya slowly vanished.

"We're not going to run away like cowards, what we are building here is our future." Faris, who'd been silent throughout finally interjected.

"What future? On a land where our existence is intolerable?" Mahrosh asked with incredulity, she couldn't believe her family. What did they want?

Leaving means...leaving him.

"It'll all be over once we find out who he is." Dad.

"We'll have to corner him, that's the only way a cat uses paws to attack you from the front." Faris.

"Impose the taxes, then." Hamza

"Taxes? What taxes?" Her heart skipped a beat, this couldn't be what she was thinking it was. No.

"We bought the land some of these villagers are currently living on, we've been beyond lenient by letting them stay on for free." Her older cousin explained, a smug smile playing on his lips.

"But how will these poor people pay—"

"That's their headache." Hamza snapped as if he could care less about the plights of the lesser fortunate.

"Uncle, we should send Mahrosh and Samar back. It's unsafe until the people behind this are captured and are behind bars for harassment and irreparable damages." The suggestion was put forth by Faris.

Mahrosh felt as if the room was spinning around her. Would her dad actually agree to something so heinous? She couldn't believe her ears.

He's angry. He's just angry. He'll get over it.

"You're right, it's not safe for them."

"But, dad—"

"He's right, Mahrosh. You almost got thrown off a horse, and now this vigilante attack or whatever that was. They're signs and you're superstitious, why aren't you getting it?" Daniya shook her lightly, beseeching her to see reason.

Because I feel as if I belong here. She thought but never voiced it.

"I'll go pack, then." Samar stood up dejectedly.

"I'm gonna go gather my stuff, as well." Daniya followed suit.

Haris was a silent onlooker, his face void of any emotion.

"Dad, the taxes..." She tried once again to make him see reason.

She closed his eyes, looking away from her.

So decisions were already made.

"Mahrosh, please leave this to Uncle and us. Go rest, the day's already been too exhausting." Hamza interrupted her, his voice brooking no argument.

She felt pure disdain and anger for him at that moment but she stayed silent. She had no other choice.

➽───────────────❥

"She's fine, just a little shaken up. What? I told you she's okay—"

"Who're you talking to?"

Hamza had sneaked up behind Haris after he left the house. He was now leaning against his jeep talking to someone when the former made his presence known.

"Me?" He gestured towards himself, sliding his phone into his jeans pocket.

"Yes, who're you briefing about Mahrosh?" Hamza stepped forward, his words accusatory.

Haris saw through the facade of civility. He knew if given the chance; the man would pummel him to death.

"Briefing? I wouldn't call it that. I was telling my brother about what happened."

"There were Samar and Daniya in the car too, why's Mahrosh the only one being discussed?" The investigation was relentless but the man before him was a master of words.

"Because she was the one who seems the most affected, Daniya and Samar are far from traumatized." He shrugged, making it sound like Hamza was dumb to not understand that simple fact.

"How about you let me take care of my fiancé?"

Haris willed away his reaction because he definitely had a vehement one.

"Fiancé?"

"Why, does that surprise you?"

"No, it's just news to me. I wasn't aware. Congratulations." He smiled with great effort, wanting to knock Hamza's teeth out.

"Thank you, I'll escort you to your car."

"No need, I'm good."

My brother won't be so good though.

➽───────────────❥

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

They were both snuggling their respective blankets, minds faraway pondering on vigilantes and fires. Scented candles were littered around the room, their tiny flames creating an aroma so divine and unique.

Escapism. Wisteria. Home. Bluebell. Fire. A Boy.

Those were the names of the candle.

"The amethyst is to cure insomnia but the rose quartz promotes peace and love. Right?" Daniya nudged her shoulder, spot-on about the crystals.

The amethyst was supposed to help with the nightmares but it never did. It was supposed to relieve headaches but it never did.

But a prayer to God...that helped.

So she prayed.

"I think Uncle is just pissed off because his kids were attacked when the anger washes away; he'll put a stop to this tax fiasco." She tried to comfort Mahrosh, who was too distressed to understand.

"They're going to hate him with a feverish passion after this, Hamza and Faris fanned the flames of his temper." Her voice was hollow, distant and so unlike her...it was devoid of her warmth.

"They're both hot-headed, you already know that."

"This is cruel, Daniya. So cruel. How can we let this happen?" She shot up, the blankets twisting around her, anxiety mounting in her chest: a sign of a panic attack.

"The Hippie in you is coming out full-blown and I'm low-key scared."

"Help me get to Mikail. He can fix this."

Yes, he could. She had faith. He might not be the boy...she'd met in Raiya all those summers ago but he was a man of caliber and honor. He'd help her put things to right. He had to.

"What?! Why him and how'd you know he can?" Daniya stuttered, her speech shaky because of the defiance in Mahrosh's eyes.

"I just...have an intuition."

Her intuitions were always spot on.

"You're forgetting he's a reclusive man-beast who thinks uttering more than five words is an unforgivable sin."

No arguments there.

But then her mind whirred with an image so heart-warming and overwhelming that she melted like liquid love. His tenderness with the little kids he had helped made her think about mini-hims with his deep brown eyes with the softest swirl of cognac; a tiny dent in their chins; plump lips, and a smile that forced the sun to shine.

He wasn't heartless.

"Will you help me or not?" Mahrosh got out of bed, issuing an ultimatum to her best friend.

"Oh, God. I can't believe this but what do you need?" Daniya surrendered, her best-friend always did.

"Just distract everyone in the morning when they wake up, I'll be long gone to the mountain house by then. Tell them I'm asleep, buy me time until Mikail and I can come up with something."

Mahrosh was pacing back and forth, to the window and back, missing it on each circuit.

"Be honest, do you like him?" Daniya's eyes glimmered with mischief.

Mahrosh was tongue-tied. She'd tried to find warmth and homeliness in a man like Mikail but she'd been sorely disappointed because there was none. He was a form of frostbite that was lethal. So infinitely cold, calculating, and ruthless.

But then she remembered how his eyes had burned like whiskey on fire, bathed in the illumination of a measly candle that tried to help her find out his deeper secrets but it had been one moment of weakness where he let his guard down; the flame was extinguished by the bone-chilling wind. It swept away any chance for her to read him—to understand the enigma he was.

How could you answer this question, then? How does a woman like a man who she knows nothing about?

"What? Where did that come from? I don't. I've known him for two days, for God's sake." She waved it off as if Daniya was out of her wits to even suggest it but the lie was bitter on her tongue.

"You're risking your dad's wrath to sneak away to his bachelor pad to ask him for help thinking he'll solve all your problems. And the way you clung to him, sopping wet. Straight out of the Notebook. Like, hello? Blind love, blind faith." She said it in a matter-of-fact tone, leaving the opponent shame-faced though they tried their best to hide it.

"It's nothing like that. As Samar said, he just gets work done and I need his expertise for this. And I did not cling to him. I was driven by circumstances." She huffed out.

She remembered how terrified she'd been of falling from a horse and breaking her neck to her death. She'd taken a leap of faith by jumping off it and into his arms.

"He's got a great body, oof the way that shirt was plastered to his abs ahhh." Daniya made a 'chef's kiss' action, falling back on the bed arms-spread.

"And you have a mind filled with filth to the brim." Mahrosh groaned in disgust, hitting her with a feathery pillow.

"No lies detected."

Indeed.

➽───────────────❥

The horse carriage dropped her off beside a small hill from where she could just peek at the structure sitting on top of it. She gave him a couple of thousand rupees for his services before twisting around to see how far up she'd have to trek to reach his house.

Every step of the stone stairs was filled with flowers that sprouted out from cracks; finding a way to grow. So radiantly colored.

She was heaving by the time she made it up to his house, standing at the edge of the property—then and there it dawned on her—why Samar was so obsessed with this place? Singing high praises.

It was a panoramic view.

The rustic property had far-reaching views, you easily could see who was going in and out of Raiya from the second story of the house. A low fence bordered the whole property; sturdy and made of ironwood. The extended deck had a swing that beckoned you to sit on it; there were seats placed beside the banister; lush green grass was trimmed even, laid out like a soft carpet, a stone walkway that led you to the vaulted front porch, through the windows she could easily make out large beams in the ceiling.

It was magnificent, majestic, and...magical.

She walked ahead, looking back guiltily at the swinging door, she hadn't even knocked. Her sight caught the forest on the right then the scintillating lake with its a soothing natural flow.

His house sat beside a lake. She was amazed; this man was a mortal living in a fantasy realm.

The sight of Wisteria seed sacks lined against the outdoor shed confirmed her suspicions. It was Mikail who was responsible for Raiya's Wisteria domination, why the place was banked with violet snow.

She was about to go towards the entrance door of the house where the brass ring on the door glinted when her eyes detected movement.

A man.

In the lake.

Bathing.

Shirtless.

Water glided down his body, caressing every curve; each nook and cranny. The protruding sinews of his muscled body bunching as he bathed himself in the lake water. It was as if she was bewitched by the display, reeled in hook, line, and sinker.

She suppressed the urge to keep on looking but she dismissed her dazzled state and got to business, vowing she wouldn't think about yesterday. Not about how he smelled, how his hands felt on her skin, the way she could hear his heart pound...none of that!

"Mikail, err, please get decent!" She called out awkwardly, ill at ease with the situation.

Nature carried on, the butterflies made love on the wisterias and the man in the lake groaned out loud.

She'd stumbled into territory once again.

"I'm so sorry for sauntering in unannounced, it's just...that I, well, we have a problem." She uttered, thoroughly embarrassed. She was trying her best not to steal a glance and she succeeded, too— making the wisteria seeds her fascination instead.

"Don't open your eyes." He ordered in a brusque tone, pulling his white shirt from where it sat on the wood beside the axe and over his head.

He'd already spotted her; with her eyes shut, nibbling on her lip looking right at home among the butterflies and ladybirds.

So darned pretty.

"I—I won't, obviously, sir. What do you take me for?" Mahrosh gasped, affronted on her good upbringing's behalf.

"A trespasser?" He frowned darkly, tugging on his boots, cursing the godforsaken leather.

"I hardly trespassed, there was no one to attend to me so I looked around and found you bathing in a lake of all places naked as a jay-bird. That's public indecency, for your enlightenment." Mahrosh folded her arms across her chest; her free and flowy floral dress with the puffed sleeves blending into the scenery. He rankled her with this push and pull.

"The audience consisted of wild animals, who by the way, have no concept of clothing, so I think I'm good," He shot back but not spitefully, his annoyance was more with the fact that he couldn't feel...not pleased.

The problem was his immense pleasure.

"Public indecency on my own property." He muttered under his breath, clicking his boots on the ground for good measure before he jogged up the stairs towards his fairy visitor.

"You can open your eyes now." He told her, standing a few feet away, drinking her in.

His wet hair was slicked back, shirt plastered to his front; his face bare and clean, the dark scruff was gone. He'd shaved and he looked even more handsome than before.

This was unfair. She whined internally.

She was met with his harsh edges and dark depths. He got lost into the warm greens that reminded him of wintery nights by the fireplace.

"Umm...err." She was at loss for words, the memories of yesterday playing in her head like a slow-motion movie scene.

"Ms. Khan, will you care to elaborate on what was so urgent and important that you had to travel across Raiya to have a meeting with me?" He didn't mince his words, he looked bored; which hurt her.

After yesterday...? She knew they were fanciful notions.

"Can we sit down somewhere?" Mahrosh requested, eyeing the deck of his house meaningfully.

He picked up on it immediately, he always did; as if he knew precisely what went through her mind. As if he knew her.

Did he? Could he be...

He waved her over to the bench made with wooden planks but she made herself comfortable on the swing instead. He disappeared inside the house; bemused with her tactics, then came out with a steaming cup of some hot beverage; extending it towards her.

She accepted it, avoiding grazing his fingers but it happened anyway. Electricity sizzled. But when she saw the caramel chocolate bar submerged into the cup; she went still.

How could he know that I liked this chocolate?

The steam from the hot chocolate invaded her senses, sending warm tingles through her body and she gazed intently into the hot liquid—a war of maybes and doubts raging inside her head.

She raised her head and their eyes clashed. Neither broke the contact. He folded his arms and she squared her shoulders. He raised his eyebrows and she smiled at him. He scowled and she beamed.

"Have you always lived in Raiya?" She questioned.

If he always lived in Raiya, he could be him.

"Not always." He sipped his black coffee, knowing very well what she was prodding into.

His answer left her nowhere near a conclusion.

"Were you born here?" She tried again.

"Get to the point, Ms. Khan. You're here unchaperoned and I don't want either of our reputations to suffer." His voice was gruff and snappish.

Mahrosh felt like he'd scolded her, she tried to conceal the hurt that flashed on her face yet again but she was never good at hiding her emotions.

Did she imagine it or had he flinched?

"My father...he's going to make taxes mandatory for the villagers after the accident last night." She finally revealed; forgetting about her problems and trying to focus on the livelihood of the poor people.

"You've gone quiet." She pointed out, taking in his blank face and the stillness of his posture.

"Why are you telling me this?" He narrowed his eyes, looking at her with speculation.

"Because—"

His phone buzzed, flashing with an incoming call then she heard their jeep's engine roaring; clearly signaling that Haris was here.

"Excuse me." He stood up with his usual grace, leaving to go meet with his brother, from what she gathered.

She stared at his back, confused and befuddled by his hot and cold attitude. Then it occurred to her that in order to get answers to her questions; she was going to have to do something unethical. So she tip-toed after him. She saw the brothers conversing heatedly, she hid behind the wall and tried to listen in.

"It's Imad Khan's patriotic duty to sow the seed of corruption then reap it for his own advantage." Mikail's words shocked her and the way he'd jeered...what did he mean?

"We should have never sold the land, no matter how dire the circumstances were." Haris. So angry.

"But we did and now these people are paying for it." Mikail. So disappointed.

"This was our father's legacy but those bastards think they can barge in with the flag of their conquest." There was so much contempt in Haris' voice.

"Have the notices gone out?" The question was flat.

"For what?"

"The taxes."

"Early. Fucking. Morning." The younger man seethed in pure loathing.

"We can still switch to Plan B, that project is in her name—" His brother tried persuading her.

"No."

"Mikail, will you let our people suffer because of our folly? We sold our land to him; never thinking once about the people who called it home. We can't build roads because the land belongs to Imad, we have been silent for far too long. If playing dirty—"

"I'll find a way." He always did.

"No, you won't because you know it'd be futile." Haris bit off then softened, "Please, maybe Mahrosh remembers who you are and—"

She didn't hear anything else.

She remembers.

Those words were enough to get a reaction out of her. She staggered inside his house, looking for a bathroom, not taking in any other detail. She heaved inside the sink; holding it in a deathly grip. The things they'd said about her father, the way they'd openly expressed how they detested him...?

It's him! It has to be...

The Boy or the Robin Hood?

She came out and made her way towards the open kitchen first thing to pour herself water. The place had a vibe of masculinity, it lacked femininity hence it's cool interior and plain, hard lines. The moment she opened the first cabinet she confronted the sight, it was filled to the top with candles from her company. All the scents she'd ever designed.

Mahrosh swayed on her feet, her body assaulted with paralyzing shocks.

No. Yes. No. Yes.

But then...something sparkled from the corner of her eyes, a pin. She moved towards it as if hypnotized, it sat beside a bunch of arrows on the mantelpiece. Her legs were working involuntarily at this point. She reached the place and her eyes...the memories of years ago returned full force.

A wisteria and an arrow.

"You're my little fawn."

"Jump! You won't fall."

"Your caramel chocolate!"

She wanted to kneel down and cry to the heavens.

It was him, it's always been him. All along.

He'd taken her pin, attached it to the little wooden arrow he'd carved, and tied their destinies together, challenging fate to dare and separate them.

Fate accepted the challenge.

It won.

The sound of the entryway door opening alerted her. She turned her head slowly, like a person who'd lost a battle and with it their home.

She looked at him. He looked at her. It didn't take him long to realize what was afoot. His secrets were exposed. His facade was unmasked.

The masquerade was over.

"Your little fawn, huh?" She scoffed at him, laughing mockingly.

Remnants of the past came together to finish the puzzle.

There was something fatalistic in her eyes, beyond despair. She stood there in the middle of his house, holding that pin illuminated by the early morning rays of the sun, they made a halo around her, and even as tears streaked down her rosy cheeks, she looked divine.

"Mahrosh..." Mikail trailed off, unable to form a full sentence that would exonerate him of his sins and make her have faith in him again.

"When I first saw you, right off the bat I knew—I just knew—that you weren't a stranger. The Wisterias mocked me at every turn, I called it 'overthinking' and reading too much into it." She spoke in small bursts; the words lodged in her throat painfully.

Hurt threaded through her voice and shot an arrow right into his heart. She looked so impossibly heartbroken that he felt like the scum of the worst sorts.

Then as God would have it, her eyes fell on the arrows...they were the same exact ones the police had dug out of Haris's jeep. Same color, same carvings.

She felt like hurling.

"The Robinhood doesn't exist."

But he did and he was him.

"These arrows...these are the same arrows we were attacked with last night." She whispered brokenly, wanting him to deny it. He had to deny it.

She felt a surge of uncontrollable antagonism and rage shooting through her body. it culminated into her stalking forward to where his large frame flanked the doorway, just like the large wooden pillars did.

"It's not what—" Mikail rubbed the bridge of his nose; witnessing it all as the little girl—now a woman—made his game fall apart. it came tumbling down like a heap at his feet, taunting him.

"Shut. Up." She cut him off, enunciating her words.

She seethed but there was the hurt of the world in those green eyes. Today they looked like a forest on fire. Crying for help.

Let me help you.

"I'll let the law deal with you."

She slammed the pin onto his chest, her hand too small on his frame. It was the same chest she'd cried into yesterday. Seeking solace and comfort.

It'd all been a lie borne out of my wishful thinking.

Little boys seldom grew up to be kind men.

Get that, Mahrosh?

She made a move to make her exit from the open door but it banged shut right before her eyes, she twirled around to accost his provoking guts but she found him too close—it was she who staggered back against the wall. His face was unyielding, he still appeared every inch the self-assertive man he'd always been.

"The Arrows could never penetrate that car, I released them only when Haris gave me the signal that all the windows were locked. There was no room for failure." The contours of his face were tense as if he was in pain.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better? You've been harassing my father and cousins non-stop, stooping the lowest one can—" She gnashed her teeth, wanting to rain down fists on his chest and demand answers she had no right demanding.

"The land your dad is building an empire on was underbought from illiterate villagers and gullible people who did not know better. By the time they realized what a loss they've been dealt with, cranes and construction equipment barrelled into our home. Their payments are still due. History repeated. First with your uncle, now your dad. They have the chance to earn millions from a measly investment at the expense of poor people." The planes of his face were taut under the stress, she inhaled his scent; then regretted it.

Wilderness and sweetness and honor and wisteria.

His impassive armor breached as his eyes pressed together, he searched for composure but she'd smashed it all under her accusations.

It was property fraud in its worst case.

Fraud that her Uncle had been arrested over once.

The same blood ran in the whole family. They'd all imposed taxes on the villagers by unanimous decision, after all.

No. No. No.

"What about your land?" Her voice was barely audible, she wanted to know how he was well-off and how he had been in the same shoes as those villagers.

"I...Haris and I sold it a long time ago to gather money for investments when we were young and helpless. I wish I hadn't because today if it belonged to us, those people wouldn't be forced to pay taxes or get swindled in the first place." He turned aside as if hiding from a shameful truth.

At that moment, she knew he wasn't lying.

"This is a mess...you'd been trying to scare us away, all this time?" She spread her arms, hiking up her shoulders to convey the message of helplessness.

He looked at her and then he kept looking.

Had she believed him?

"A mess you don't need to be involved in." He moved away reluctantly.

It was time to let go.

"Why didn't you come to me?" She called to his back, looking at him in his domain; in the center of the house, he built.

The tall windows in the room made it possible for the natural light to stream in; the stone fireplace had gas logs; there was another expansive porch beyond the floor to ceiling windows, perfect for dining and breakfast.

He thought this architecture through.

"You forgot the boy, would you have recognized the man?" He jibed with derision, the cutting remark intended to pierce.

"The man was a six-feet-four-inch mountain reeking of disdain, cynicism, and plain rudeness. The boy I remembered had warmth and optimism in his eyes, so I'm sorry if I couldn't recognize you." She bit off, feeling like she'd drown in sorrow and grief for what could have been.

He would certainly go to jail for all his offenses and that tore at her heart. How do I save you? How do I save the boy I remember with such vividness?

"Time and people force some of us to change." Mikail placed his hands on the kitchen counter, looking out the window to the endless forest.

But he was still the gallant little boy; a little rough and full of cynicism now but yet—that boy all the same. If only he could embrace the liveliness again.

"What will you do?" She asked alas, worry for him gnawing at her heart.

"I covered my tracks well until you forced your way in with your wisterias and candles and your damned fawn bandanas." His remark wasn't snide but his laugh was cruel.

Because it hurt to see her so full of life; thriving without him when they should've thrived together. For eternity. Their souls were one. They always had been. From the time he'd stolen candy for her from her brother's stash; worn a crown of wisteria like a fool and when she'd laid her sword down at every outrageous idea he'd had in their childhood.

"Leave my bandanas out of this." She berated him, fixing her undone head accessory for good measure.

She'd worn a Wisteria behind her ear that day at the field and he'd been enthralled by her; how could someone represent kindness and happiness through their actions?!

"I wondered, you know. Did she grow up to be a city girl or is she still the wild fawn with the crown of wisterias on her head?" He mused out loud, smiling at the memory of long ago.

Smiling at his foolery because she couldn't see him smiling.

"And? Who did she become?" Mahrosh drew in a breath, anticipating his answer.

"Still my fawn." He breathed out tightly.

At that moment, something unfurled in her chest for him...the infatuation, fascination, the helpless obsession had all been the makings of a feeling she'd felt years ago.

Love.

But does love prosper among lies, betrayal, and secrets?

No.

But she also knew that if he stopped her now...

A happily ever after or a happily nevermore?

"I won't snitch on you, God knows I should, but I won't." She announced in a strong, clear voice—issuing him his final chance.

"For old time's sake, then?" His words were dead, so cold that she shivered.

He wasn't going to change.

The boy was truly gone.

She turned around the knob, ready to leave him in his realm. She'd find her own magic one day and she'd remember him; aloof, lonely and so far, far away.

"Go ahead, run away, you excel at it by this point." His remark was scathing as if he wanted to goad her into a fight.

She wasn't going to fight him today. She didn't face him. Stood there and hoped...

"What do you want me to do?" She whispered, barely able to stop from breaking down in heart-wrenching sobs.

Mikail was looking at her now. She stood there, inside the threshold of the house he'd built in hopes she'd one day come back and bring with her the happiness he'd craved for—but she was about to leave forever.

And if he let her without trying; he'd be the biggest fool in the world.

"Oh, I don't know? Maybe stick around, marry me, and have my kids? Try giving me the happily ever after I was promised and then robbed of?" Once he started talking, he didn't stop. The frustration in his suggestion was full of derision and his voice was laced with the fear of rejection.

Mahrosh's knees buckled at his admission. She felt like she'd collapse. Like a silver lining in the cloud, her smile appeared from the shadows—brightening everything around them with its power. The haze dissipated and the golden sunshine sighed in relief.

"The...fence." Two words.

"What about the damned fence?" His voice raised, his heart sinking deep in his gut. He was making a lot of noise as he poked and prodded things uselessly just to avoid looking at her, lest he stopped her, begged her to stay.

She was going to leave.

"It's not safe for kids...you know they tend to crawl to dangerous places." She explained like he needed to realize how grave the issue at hand was.

Dents on their chins, bright smiles, laughter, and a life filled with joy where they battled the sorrows together.

"There won't be any kids in my blasted hou..." The rest of the sentence faded on his lips.

The meaning behind her words plunged into the depths of his soul and revived the boy she'd lost. He went still, unmoving, his body trying to reject the happiness God had bestowed on him. He wasn't used to good things.

But that was about to change.

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