The sun was in Arya's face, shining past her eyelids. She groaned and tried swatting at it. Pain exploded in her shoulder which prompted her to gasp and open her eyes.

"Arya, darling!" Cornelia's voice fluttered in Arya's ears. "How are you feeling?"

Arya raised her hand to her eyes, her hazy vision slowly returning to focus. The sun wasn't the sun. Rather, it was an array of bright incandescent bulbs flushing the room with pure white light. "Can you turn it off?" her voice was hoarse, evidenced by a scratchy feeling in her throat. How long was she out? Moreover...why was she alive?

Her last memory was of the warehouse. The gunshots. Norren turning. Grottway retrieving his pistol and firing. After that, nothing. How did she end up here? What happened to Norren? Where was he?

"Sorry, dear. You're in a common ward," Cornelia answered. Her aunt stood up from the stool with a squeak and fussed about Arya's sheets. "Are you cold? Hungry? Thirsty? You're sure to be thirsty after taking so long in that operating room—"

"What happened, Cornelia?" Arya attempted to sit up but the pain in her back and shoulders intensified. She fell back with a groan. "Damned biscuits. What did they hit me with?"

Worry creased her aunt's face. "When you took too long in getting the supplies, I began to be concerned. You didn't return when you normally would and I have this unmistakable feeling in my gut that something happened," she recounted. "So, I followed you to the food shop. I asked the clerks there and they told me you never made it. I was about to wire the Maltarci back home when I found this handsome young man at the flat—"

"What?" Arya interjected. Norren went to her aunt? "You met him?"

"I don't know if we're talking about the same 'him', but the young man told me you might be in danger," Cornelia continued. "He told me to stay put while he 'fixes' something. The next thing I know, he was wiring me about you in a hospice after being shot."

Tears misted in Cornelia's eyes. She plucked a sheet of tissue from the nearby box and began dabbing at the corners. "When I arrived here, they told me you're in the operating room. The next time I see you, you're unconscious and with bandages wrapped around you like a cocoon."

Arya pursed her lips. Cornelia started bawling now. "What in Ouine's name happened to you?" she said. "If your parents see how poorly I took care of you, they'd be turning in their graves."

At the mention of her parents, all the grim things revealed to her in that warehouse came back. The truth...

"Do you promise to listen and not interrupt as I'm telling the story?" Arya looked her aunt in the eye, knowing full well she wouldn't ever honor that promise even as she nodded. Finally, she blew a breath, as much as her uncorseted stomach would allow. "Fine. Here I go."

Everything came spilling out, then. Starting from meeting Norren, to her dreams, until the warehouse. When she got to the bit about Grottway admitting to killing her parents, Cornelia gasped and covered her mouth with a hand.

"That slimy son of a b—"

"Anyway, it just saddens me that people like that existed," Arya cut her aunt off before she cursed out the man's entire lineage and ancestry. Well, in retrospect, Grottway deserved it, but they're in a public ward. There might be children who could hear them.

"You missed out on your whole childhood because of that man," Cornelia said. "Your parents loved you so, so much. It must have broken their hearts when they realized they would be leaving you alone."

Arya smiled. "But I'm not alone," she said, her own tears threatening to spill. "I have you."

Cornelia blinked and Arya pushed on. "I still have to thank you for taking care of me all these years," she said. "For letting me crash in your flat, for taking me to Aldermere with you, and for looking for me when I didn't come back. It's more than what's expected of you as my aunt."

At this point, Cornelia was sniffing. Arya might have joined her had it not been for the ward's door opening and a figure ducking inside. He passed by all the other beds with patients in them and made for them.

From beside Arya's bed, Cornelia huffed, her face softening from an angry grimace to a stricken frown. "I have warned Pauline to steer clear of Grottway since the beginning," she was saying. "Who would've thought that fogger was going to go that far. He should be rotting in jail. He should be—"

"Rest assured, he will be after all this, madam," a gentle voice speared behind Cornelia. The woman swiveled just as Arya's eyes widened. Norren smiled down at the both of them, looking no worse for wear. For someone who shot at least six people point blank, seeing him smile unnerved Arya.

He ducked his head at Cornelia who started blubbering and looking at him from head to toe. "May I borrow Arya for a second?" he asked. "Or shall I come back after you've finished your talk?"

Cornelia opened her mouth then closed it again. Arya leaned over, as far as her sore body allowed. "No, we're done," she glanced at her aunt who stared at Norren like she couldn't believe such a person would show up in front of her in her lifetime. "Are we?"

"Uh huh," her aunt nodded with uncertainty before shaking her head. "I'll be waiting outside."

Before any of them could react, Cornelia ducked her head in a gesture she assumed was fitting for Norren's councilman status and strode out of the ward. As soon as she was gone, Norren reached up and drew the curtains around Arya's bed. She hadn't even noticed that nor known it was possible. Fae didn't need human doctors as often and fae doctors holed out in small clinics in the countryside.

Norren settled on the stool, taking Cornelia's place. He smiled at her, ever so gentle. The sparkle in his blue eyes had never been so bright. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

Arya frowned. Why was everyone asking her that? "If I say 'not good', what are you going to do?" she asked.

"Call a doctor and have them flush you with painkillers," he answered without missing a beat.

"Then, I'm feeling fine," Arya quipped. She was, in fact, numbed to the bone if not for the occasional stinging in her flesh whenever she moved too much. So, she moved to the more immediate topic she had been wanting to get into. "What happened after I...you know."

Norren frowned, his mind no doubt running through the memories of that day. How many hours had it been? Was it even the same day? Was Arya here for a week? A year?

"You took the bullet meant for me," he pinched the skin of his palm. "You lost consciousness immediately so I had no choice but to shoot Grottway and haul you out of the warehouse before you lose a lot of blood. I brought you to this hospice, called your aunt, and left to attend to my other duties. I did tell the doctors to wire me if you woke up. And now, here we are."

Arya bobbed her head. The scratchy gown she was shoved into was every bit as uncomfortable as it made her feel naked. Nothing was simply underneath it, making her miss all the layers she had been complaining of having to put on herself back then. It took everything in her to not look at her legs.

"I keep thinking about one thing since then," Norren continued, tapping his chin. Arya knitted her eyebrows. What could it be? He locked eyes with her. "Why did you call me Eliott back then?"

Arya then averted her eyes and looked everywhere but at Norren's face. If she did, she couldn't deny that he did look like the prince from the Old Kingdom she had been dreaming about. It's no wonder she confused the two of them. "I don't know. Did I?" she fibbed, though a poor attempt at it.

"You did," he said.

Arya blew a breath and brought her hands together atop her stomach. "Promise you're not going to get creeped out," she said.

Norren nodded. Arya rested her head against the soft pillow beneath and relaxed her limbs. For the second time today, she told someone about her dreams and the fact that she knew what's going to happen to Norren through them. When she finished, she dared to glance at him to find him with an incredulous look on his face.

"So you've been dreaming about them too," Norren concluded.

Arya gasped. Too? Wait, did that mean—

Something flashed in her memory as a confirmation. I'm not leaving you, Norren had said. Not again.

Not again.

"You know what's funny? I never knew the prince's name until you called me Eliott," Norren laughed under his breath and tapped an inconsistent rhythm with his palms against the rails of Arya's bed. "That's why I was in Barnholdt when I met you. I was looking for clues about who this prince I keep dreaming about for the past week."

She hummed. So even their first meeting had been rigged by their past lives. "I never knew the fae girl's name either," she mused. She turned to Norren with a raised eyebrow. "Do you know what it was?"

"Edge," Norren answered. His voice contained so much reverence and admiration. "A fae born from the sea and therefore, Edge Seaborn."

The sea...

Arya's eyes widened. She had always been fond of the water even as a child. She used to take long baths and would submerge herself under the water to see how long she could hold her breath. Seeing the sea always delighted her so she would always force her parents to bring her to any of the Porte cities. Born from the sea. Another remnant Edge has left in Arya.

She couldn't have left her the wings too? Bummer.

"So you believe in this past life schtick too?" Arya asked.

Norren rolled his shoulders. At least one of them was still able to, at this moment. "I mean, we've literally seen it with our eyes. It'd be stupid not to," he said. "But I don't believe much in its hold in our present lives."

Arya bobbed her head. "I guess I'm like that too," she said, her eyes brushing past Norren but never staying too long on his face. Something inside her told her to continue avoiding it. "I mean, I'm alive. You're alive. It's safe to say we're both out of destiny's influence, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Norren said. He inclined his head to one side. "So what's going to happen now?"

Arya stuck out her bottom lip. "You tell me," she said. "Maybe you can finally focus on your bill of rights or something. And I..." she blew a breath and shifted her legs under the sheets. "I'll continue on with my life."

"You told me you didn't love me back in the warehouse," Norren pointed out, bringing the conversation to the very thing Arya had been avoiding. Heat burst into her cheeks and there was little she could do to tamp it down. If Norren noticed, she'd blame the pain or something. "You were under the threat of a gun so I really didn't know what to make of that."

Arya rubbed her face with her hands. The dextrose wire attached to her arm bobbed with the movement. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Is it true?"

Her hands fell from her hands and she found herself looking at Norren. Really looking at him. He had on an uncertain smile but still managed to look goofy. Something fluttered in her stomach. Had she started bleeding there as well?

Apart from the influence of the dreams and their supposed past lives, there was nothing tying them together. She wouldn't have found him if not for those. They wouldn't have met if Norren hadn't been finding clues for his own dreams.

How much of their interaction had been completely theirs and not a rehash of the past? Now that they're free to lead their own lives, what would Arya want to do? It was certainly her choice from this point onward. Would she let Norren go, watch from the sidelines as he tried to follow his passion and become the person the humans and the fae needed, and miss the times she spent with him, the times when she truly felt understood? Would she regret it?

She tried picturing her life after all this. Without him, she would be going back to her flat with Cornelia, scrubbing fireplaces, going to whatever job she would find after the Postal Quarters, and living in her somewhat predictable routine. She found herself studying Norren once more. He seemed to be studying her back, his eyes never once straying from her face. Was he feeling all he felt because of Eliott? Was she feeling this ache in her chest when she's away from him because of Edge?

It's all a mystery but there was one thing Arya had been sure of. She'd prefer the unknown this time around. She has had enough living her life trying to follow the rules and being as little as possible. It's time for Arya Salcrest to be all she wanted to become. It's time for her to take the reins of her own life into her hands.

What did she want to do now? Try painting. Probably. Start a garden or learn arithmetic to fund her own business. There were a myriad of things she wanted to do that she didn't know where to start. But there was one thing in front of her that she didn't mind trying now.

"It's true," she said. Norren pursed his lips and looked away. "But we could change it, right?"

Norren's gaze had never flicked back to her with such speed. Arya made sure to keep her smile light. "I want to be with you, Norren Sterling," she said, his name in this lifetime sounding so smooth off her lips. "If you'll have me."

He exhaled an amused breath. "Of course," he said. "Do you remember what I promised you?"

Arya was sure he didn't promise her anything but a sly smile picked at the corners of her lips when she realized where he was steering her to. "What if I say I don't?" she teased.

"Then I will say it again," Norren said, drawing closer to her until the space between their faces was a few inches. His body blocked most of the light from the ceiling, which Arya was more than grateful for. If he could stay like that forever, or at least until she got out, it'd be perfect.

"In every life, Arya," Norren began.

"I will love you," she finished for him. She reached out and let her arms hang from the back of his neck. "Norren," she made sure to add. For dramatic purposes, of course.

He froze, with Arya having stolen the words from him. Still, he stayed so close to her that it had started to get warm. Perhaps those were the lights overheating for staying on for too long?

"What? No grand words left, Your Majesty?" she quipped as she made sure to give him the quirkiest smirk she could.

Norren snorted, his hands finding their way on her shoulders as he leaned further. "Don't you dare start calling me that," he warned. His breath ticked Arya's nose, driving more flutters in her gut.

She laughed even though it hurt. A little. "Why not, Your Royal Highness?" she said. "I quite like it. Shall I call you the Crown Prince of the Royal Order of all Nobleness?"

"I don't really know what to do with you," Norren resigned.

Arya let her fingers wander into his hair. By the gods, it really was as soft as she imagined it to be. "Just shut up and kiss me, Norren," she said. "Before I call you the Honorable Excellency—"

Norren didn't let her finish when he claimed her lips as she ordered him to. This time, Arya let herself be lost in this little world he had built for themselves. There might be people wondering what was going on behind the curtains. Her aunt might walk back in and catch them. But who cares?

For the first time, Arya was going out on a limb. She'd have the time of her life falling in love with whomever she wished and never worrying about what society might think of her. She'd kiss the man she loved even if it was in the middle of a hospice ward. She'd throw away her veils and let the world see her for who she was.

This was her life and she might as well live it, and from now on, destiny could go and screw itself.