Topaz slithered beneath the bed just as High Priestess Liora Mortemwell stormed into the room.

"Thank the spirits!" She pulled Isolde into a fierce embrace.

"Aunt?"

"I'm so glad you are alive!" She exclaimed as the renowned, stern High Priestess broke down to tears. Her composure unraveled, and then she turned to Ronan and pulled him into a hug as well. "You too. Argent entrusted you to me. I never expected to find you both lifeless in the library."

"But... you told me to get the book," Ronan said.

"It is because it does not exist when my dear niece burned it. I wanted you to realize it was a futile attempt, but I still can't believe you found it!"

Isolde scratched her head. "I can actually memorise books, Aunt. I compensated for all the books I damaged in the library. I swear!"

There were times Topaz wondered what went through its master's head. She questioned why there was a need to keep this a secret from her very own aunt, who cared for her. But since they were back, its voice had disappeared, and it could not reprimand her anymore.

Just then, another figure stepped into the room. At first glance, Isolde's eyes widened in recognition.

"Mawar?"

The older woman chuckled, deep smile lines creasing her face. "It's been a long time since anyone called me that. I'm her younger sister. Agnes Belladoir."

"She's a former librarian," Liora introduced. "If not for her telling you were under a spell, your bodies would have been six feet underground. Please don't scare me again so much, I nearly followed Argent myself."

At the mention of the late Tower Lord, the mood sombered, but its master, who was never one for subtlety, broke the silence.

"Did you and your lover ever marry?"

The woman shook her head gently. "How could we celebrate a life together when it came at the cost of someone else's? Once you begin chasing the past, it holds you. Just like my sister, who tried to undo fate at the price of her own life. She created a prison we volunteered to wallow when the guilt was enough to imprison us in this lifetime."

"May I ask his name?"

"Thiago Veilbran." She took deep breaths, reminiscing about a story that had been long buried and perhaps something they would never know as she took the hands of Isolde's and Ronan's, overlapping them with hers.

"And I commend the two of you. Letting go of the past takes courage to face the present."

This time, Isolde couldn't hold back, eagerly recounting their journey. Ronan occasionally stepped in, correcting the parts she had missed while unconscious.

When they were finally left alone, they sat in silence, not touching, but their shoulders nearly brushed, yet neither dared to close the distance.

Isolde glanced at him, her voice barely audible. "Do you think they're okay there?"

"I don't know," he replied. "But I have to live well. It's what my father wanted."

"Me too," she murmured, and this time when their eyes met, a chuckle broke from their lips.

"Maybe it's not so bad having a troublemaker witch by my side."

"I don't mind having a warlock to clean up my mess either."

Topaz turned away from them. Something had begun. Not love—not yet—but it's getting there.

THE END