Avara POV
Time marches relentlessly, grinding the three weeks I've spent here into the finest grains of memory. Only one week remains before I must return home, and I can already feel the ache of leaving. A part of me dreads going back, fears what it will mean to step out of this stolen idyll. If I let myself fall into the reverie of one more day, one more moment, I might never leave.
Botan has been persistent, his pressured coaxing masked by smooth words and pleading eyes. The documents—the ones that would tie me to this palace, this life—wait in his—or my—private office, but they're not why I came. I didn't come for sprawling grounds or luxurious halls. I came for him. I came to silence my mind's doubts and let my heart's reckless yearning have its say. Perhaps, just perhaps, something beautiful could grow out of something so broken—something pure born of the tainted.