By the time Aurora reached Elara’s quarters, her cheeks still hadn’t cooled. The image — him — was burned into her mind no matter how hard she tried to erase it. Every time she blinked, she saw the sharp lines of his shoulders, the way the sunlight had caught the dark strands of his hair, the calm in his eyes despite the chaos around them.
She pushed the door open before she could change her mind.
Elara looked up from the table where she was arranging herbs, her golden-brown hair tied loosely behind her back. The moment she saw Aurora’s face, she frowned. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she said, then paused, her tone shifting with mock horror. “Or maybe… something worse?”
Aurora hesitated. “I—uh—something happened.”
Elara’s brow furrowed. “What kind of something?”
Aurora closed
