The villa's backyard stretched out behind the main building, quiet and undisturbed, the lake sitting at its edge like something that had always been there and always would be. The water caught the twilight in flat silver sheets.
Wish sat at the bank, shoes off, feet tucked under her, staring at nothing in particular.
"If I fail today," she muttered to the water, "I might as well just give myself a tour. See the gardens. Visit the kitchens. Maybe I shouldn't go back to solar kingdom immediately, i can just walk around this realm and see how it looks like outside."
The lake didn't respond.
She appreciated that about it.
It was the only genuinely peaceful moment she'd had since arriving—no challenges, no clipboards, no Nyla's voice ascending to frequencies only bats could process. Just the water. Just the quiet.
Just the slow, grinding problem of how to reach a man whose emotional range apparently spanned from cold to colder, within a time limit that was actively shrinking.
