ততততত

𝐈 𝐌 𝐎 𝐆 𝐄 𝐍

Tobin steps onto my balcony, his expression speaking all the words his voice can't. He's come to meet Ruslan, to come face to face with the prince he betrayed. There's still a lingering ache inside of me for what he's done. Before, I felt as if the world wasn't falling apart, because he was the glue that held it together. Now, he's the one that shredded it.

Unlike before, there's nothing between us that could ever speak of love. I'm simply here to fulfill his request, and that's all—no matter how difficult it is for me, considering I've grown accustomed to Tobin.

In the dead of the night, we slip through the castle passageways. Getting into my father's private garden isn't exactly the easiest task for a thief, but Tobin isn't alone. I guide him through the castle until we're sneaking through walls and halls. Somewhere through the darkness, I take his hand in mind, morphing our palms together. I squeeze his clasp tightly within mine, just yearning to hold on for a second longer. He strengthens our hold until we reach the light, and I let go.

The smell of white orchids consumes us as we enter the empty garden. The full moon looms above us, a timer ticking as it treads towards the horizon for dawn.

Tobin's kind eyes gaze at the magical gardens around him. White orchids brush against his fingertips as he walks, his boots not daring to tramp down any of the growth. It's as if the sea of blooming white flora parts for me, as they are no stranger to my presence. I glance over my shoulder. Tobin remains still in awe of how the moonlight captures each orchid petal, of how ethereal this place has become.

He lifts his eyes to meet mine. "You've never shown me this place."

"There's a reason for that. No one's supposed to enter but my father and I," I glance up at the towering cherry tree overhanging the center of the garden. "And perhaps maybe a petty thief?"

His lips smirk at this, just slightly, before he follows me to the foot of the tree. There, we stand before two gravestones: one belonging to my mother, and the other to Ruslan, her beloved son.

Tobin stands beside me as a stronghold I can lean against to brace myself.

"Tobin, this is Ruslan," I whisper, reading his name over and over again in my head: Ruslan Marius Navarro Mironescu. "Ruslan, this is Tobin."

Silence, but a warm breeze wraps itself around us. The leaves of the cherry tree rustle against one another, as if the sound was a subtle 'hello' from the dead. He's here. The phantom of my brother fills this courtyard, and although we can't see or hear him, I can feel him. I wonder if Tobin senses Ruslan's presence too.

He must feel something as his eyes widen. He stares fiercely at the grave, then lowers himself to one knee, bowing before the lost prince of Lagulon.

"My prince," he mutters under his breath, his voice a gravelly low.

He remains on his knees as another slight gust brushes against the locks of his hair, his cowlick dancing in delight. The breeze ends, and once again, the earth stands still. Tobin rises and returns to my side, slipping his hand between mine.

"Tell me about him," Tobin whispers. "I bet he was supposed to be king, right?"

"It wasn't like that," my voice chokes, and the tears come as I begin the tale of Ruslan. "He would never be king."

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐑

Thunder booms with such rage that it shakes the furniture in my bedroom, and lightning flashes shadows that look like beasts against my bedroom walls. Meanwhile, here I am—bundled up within a million blankets on my bed, attempting to drown out the storm.

I hate storms.

Dad knows that. Momma knows that. You think in my eight years of life they would realize that storms and I don't mix at all. All I want to do is run to their arms and ask them to make the sky stop. I could run to their bedroom door, but the both of them snore so loud that I don't dare disrupt their peace. They sleep like cows in the barn, not even phased that this storm could be the beginning of the apocalypse.

But Ruslan would be awake. Yes! He would be! He'd need a distraction from the storm too, wouldn't he?

I hoist myself out of my gargantuan bed and tiptoe towards my closet, my entrance to the passageways. The guards won't let me into Ruslan's bedroom this late at night, only my parents'. Ever since Ruslan became sick, he's hardly gotten out of bed to play. I keep reminding him that he will get better, and then we can race down the hallway in his contrapted wheelchair. He smiled at this—then let me play on his bedroom floor.

The passageways lead me into Ruslan's closet. The doors creak when I open them, and I trip over a pile of his clothes and land flat on my stomach.

"Ouch!"

A soft chuckle echoes from under Ruslan's covers, his voice weak. "I figured you'd be awake, little star."

"Momma and dad snore," I complain, pattering over to the edge of his bed.

"Just the snoring, huh?" he forces a grin just as a loud crash of thunder startles me. "Come here."

I launch myself into his bed and curl up against his side, gazing up at my beloved brother. Ruslan is four years older than me. He's old enough to do so much, and yet he's still sick. He's always sick, and I don't understand why he isn't getting better. The doctors are forever coming in, checking the rate of his pulse and feeding him these herbal medicines that smell horrendous. Momma said it would help him.

Lately, it's not doing anything.

Dark bags have formed under his green eyes. He looks so much like momma, and yet so much like a stranger. Either way, he's still my brother, even if there's nothing within him that belongs to my father. His cheeks are no longer full like they once were, but have sunken in against his bones. He's always been thin and sickly, but his arms held all the strength he ever needed. He could never walk, but when my father got him his chair built, a design created by himself, Ruslan could roll for ages.

Ruslan manages to wrap an arm around my little body. His breathing remains heavy, a struggle to fill his lungs with the nighttime air.

"Tell me about what we're gonna do tomorrow," Ruslan whispers, his voice hardly making a sound.

I lift my head. "Momma won't let you out of bed."

"I know," he murmurs, his green eyes closing, "but what should we do anyway?"

"Hmmm." There are plenty of activities to count, so I start rambling away. "I could draw some targets and you could shoot arrows from your bed, or I could get you in your chair and wheel you to the window. Fat crows keep eating the fruit scraps from the kitchen. Momma wants them dead, so we could shoot them down."

"Damn those fat crows."

I giggle and continue on. "I could tell you a story. I tell very good stories—especially this one about a king running away from his castle and into the city—"

"Is this one about mom and dad?" he teases.

I stop. Of course, my parents' love story is the only one I know. Ruslan tells better ones. Ever since he became bedridden, he spends his time awake reading books from the library until he nods back to sleep.

"We could play pirates."

"Dad didn't like it when we played pirates last time," Ruslan mumbles, "considering they're his biggest problem right now."

I scowl. "I think I'd like being a pirate. You get to see what's on the other side of the ocean."

There's a rasp in Ruslan's voice, and I can tell he's getting tired. His head dips against the waves of my moonlit blonde hair, and I can hear his lips move as he speaks. These are the moments I adore with Ruslan, these small tired cuddles that happen before he falls into a land of dreams.

"Let me tell you what's on the other side of the Great Blue ocean," Ruslan mumbles. "Close your eyes, little star."

I listen, and Ruslan drops his voice to this timbre whisper. Then, he begins his tale of two adventurers, brother and sister, tackling the world in their vast galleon. He takes the wheel and I the telescope, scanning the horizon for signs of threats. When we reach the shoreline on the other side, we'll find a land swirling with life beyond compare. Everyone there will be happy.

It will be paradise.

I fall asleep in his arms, to his steady breathing that seems to slow. Next to him, the storm passes by and the moonlight shines until dawn arrives. Ruslan has always been a refuge I seek out when the world endangers me, and he brings me into his arms to remind me that it's alright. He's always been a light at the end of a dark tunnel, a safety to pull me out of the ravines of fear.

Near dawn, Ruslan places a soft kiss on my temple, then tightens his arm around me with all the strength he could muster. "I'll meet you on the other side of the ocean, little star."

When I wake up again, I'm curled in my father's arms. Tears roll down his cheeks, and the sounds of my mother's sobs echo through the corridor.

I didn't need to ask.

I knew I'd lost Ruslan.

I'd lost everything.

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐘

At some point I'd fallen to my knees, sobbing into Tobin's chest as he kneels next to me. His fingertips dance over my spine, upwards and downwards in soothing rivulets. Each touch is an attempt to help me forget about the pain of the past, but he's just paving a road to my heart's demise. Tobin exhales into the waves of my hair, his lips muttering inaudible whispers of words I cannot make out.

Ruslan is gone.

Soon, Tobin will be too.

It seems that everyone in this kingdom that knows how to obliterate the stone walls around my heart can never stay longer than a few mere moments. They leave me in the dust to clean up the shrapnel they left behind.

Somehow, I compose myself and pry away from my thief's arms. I shouldn't indulge in his close proximity when we should stay separated. Maybe bringing him to Ruslan's grave was a mistake, one that I can't erase now, because now he knows too much. What if those kind eyes mask the darkness behind them?

Can I trust Tobin the same way I once did?

I rise to my feet. "You should go."

"Princess—"

"Go," tears sting my eyes again. "Because if you don't leave now, I'm afraid I'll never let you."

Tobin swallows, his tired voice breaking at the seams. "Gareth notified me that Aspen is ready. I have to go back to her. I have to."

"I know," I shake my head, "but it feels like I'm reliving Ruslan's death over again. I lost him, and I'm losing you too, and I—" I look away, my breath hitching. "I can't stop it."

Tobin steps close to me. The cord that binds us strengthens its tie around us, until he's cupping my cheeks with his calloused palms. His thumbs scathe the salty tears that fall from my stormy eyes. I look up into his own kind irises, only to find that they mirror mine. There, we become each other's worlds; a lover's gaze.

"Tobin," I whisper, not daring to look away. "This is the last night, isn't it?"

He swallows, but nods his head. He brushes his forehead against mine, never once breaking our eye contact.

"Aspen's waited for ten fucking years for me," he confesses. "This was the only way."

The only way. How cruel fate is to us for this to be the only way. Death split apart Ruslan and I. Corruption tore Tobin from Aspen, only to eradicate his parents. I'm betrothed to the man with a soul as black as oil, when all we desire is these simple nightfalls where time can't touch us. At least I know my thief will have a happy ending, living a life so long with his sister at his side.

"We need to go back to my bedroom before someone finds us," I whisper between us.

Tobin says nothing, although I know he understands. We've been in the gardens for too long, and night dwindles away like an emptying hourglass. I take his hand in mine, then guide my thief back to the safe haven of my bedroom chamber.

Together, we step into the darkness of the room. The hearth fails to burn around us, and the shadows chill away the heat. Our hands remain entwined, woven and stitched by our fingers. How can I let go? I can't. My heart refuses to let the thief run away. At once, I want to steal him and keep him hostage in my bedroom forever, but then what would Aspen do?

He's done all of this for her.

"Find me in Adorid," Tobin whispers, his lips drawing closer to mine. "I'll never be far."

His lips brush mine—a kiss I want to indulge in, but refuse to let him pursue. I pull back, then release our clutched fingers.

This is goodbye, and I know I won't be able to say it again.

"Go Tobin," my voice breaks. "Aspen is waiting for you."

I turn away from him.There's a girl with kind eyes and a storm that brews inside of her just waiting to be saved by her beloved older brother. Ten years has been lost between them, time that they will never find, but gods, he never stopped loving her. He succeeded in his crimes at the cost of the princess of Lagulon.

I look back to catch one final glimpse of my thief...

... but he's gone.

The warm breeze carries through the opened balcony doors. My sob echoes through the empty room, and I stand in the center of it all, letting the void consume me whole.

I am alone.

Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone.

"Fuck it."

I swing my head over to the balcony, only to catch my thief in the entryway. He pulls off the belt of his scabbard and tosses his sword to the ground. There's a blaze in his kind brown irises, a spark that will start a wildfire that can never be put out. With every wolfish step he takes, my heart accelerates inside my chest. Each thump-thump in me becomes louder and louder until it ceases to beat at the crash of his soft lips.

In a kiss so divine, my heart binds itself back to his own. Every kiss asks for forgiveness, for redemption for what he's done to me. He regains control of the fortress he built in my heart, overthrowing the doubt that had filled it. The night is still young, and there's so much yet to steal.

He will pillage the entirety of me.

"Spare me one more night," he murmurs against my throat, his greedy lips finding my pulse. "Princess, this is my final request..."

With an exhale of his name on my lips, my thief tosses me over his shoulder to steal me until our final nightfall ends.

── •✧• ──

The end.

Just kidding. This is nowhere near the end of the story. There's so much that needs to happen yet and you all have no idea. Unfortunately, Tobigen will be split apart (it hurts me as much as it hurts you). Imogen has to stay in Lagulon until she marries Leighton, and Tobin will return to Aspen in Adorid. UNLESS... you'll have to read to find out.

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