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Each second I spent with Rook, my stomach clenched tighter. Reluctantly, I asked, “Hope for what?”

“That you might return.”

I’m going to be ill.

We walked through the library, and I looked for something I might be sick in. “And now that I’m here, what do you feel?”

“Only the latter.” Rook squeezed my hand.

“How could anyone look at you and not have hope?” Rook waited for me to sit, then did so himself.

A vase of fragrant, fat peonies sat on the mantle.

I clutched my belly and, again, scanned for some vessel that might hold my vomit.

Rook pulled his chair close, so he might see me directly.

“Last night, I couldn’t sleep. I lay in bed and, come midnight, heard a rapping on the door.

In my haste, I fell down the stairs.” He laughed.

“I thought you’d gotten lost and found your way back.

” Rook’s face fell to despair. “But there was only darkness. Nothing more.”

The fire was too hot. Sweat dampened my spine, and I wiped my palms along my trousers. Rook watched my fingers work as they bunched the fabric along my thighs.

“What’s wrong?” Rook rested the back of his hand against my forehead. “Are you ill?”

“I’m sorry. I just… The past few days have been overwhelming, with you—and my brother.” I gave Rook a weak smile. “My nerves are getting the better of me.”

“Shall I make you tea?”

“Oh no. Don’t worry about m—”

But Rook was already leaping over the chair.

Meaning to help with the task, I rose. “No, please,” Rook called back.

“I’ll get it for you.” Feeling both reluctant and a little confused, I resumed my seat.

It seemed wrong, for many reasons, to sit there and relax while Rook made me tea.

Though I was uncomfortable, I remained where I was.

For about five seconds.

I got up and paced. Pulling a book off the shelf, I opened it and tried to read.

I wiped my brow and moved even farther from the fire.

Why can’t I stop sweating?! In no time at all, Rook returned, carrying a golden tray.

Setting it down, he approached me. He held my back and leaned in, as if to examine me.

He knows something is wrong! I thought frantically. Or, even more distressingly: He’s worried about you.

“Tea will help.” I side-stepped Rook.

I picked up the pot, which Rook promptly took. With a great deal of authority, he said, “Will you sit down?”

“Yes, yes, okay.” Rook served me, and then, curiously, poured himself a cup. “Can you drink that?” I asked.

“No, but I favour the smell.”

I inhaled; chamomile tickled my nose. Drink your daisies. Though Rook couldn’t partake, he seemed content that I enjoyed it.

“How was your time with your family? You must have been happy, to see your brother better.”

Over my teacup, my eyes started to well.

“Oh dear.” Rook set down his cup and took my hand. “Liliwen, please, talk to me.”

“I just… I love them.”

“It’s a wonderful thing, to have a family you love.” Rook smiled. “What else do you love?”

Scrunching up my face, I thought. What else did I love about them?

“Well, Lysander, he’s good at foraging, and he loves whittling.

He’s good with children. I think he’d like to follow in my mother’s footsteps, become a teacher…

” I laughed. “Truly, I think he’d like to find a companion with a profitable job.

He’s quite the flirt; half the village is after him. Vexes our poor mother.”

Rook laughed. “I bet it does.”

“And my sister—Lottie—well.” I tried to think of the best way to describe Lottie, and her respective interests. “She likes fighting.” Rook and I both laughed. “She’s a pain, but she’d do anything for me.” I sipped my tea. “I love her dearly.”

“I can tell,” Rook said. “Though, while I’m interested in anything you hold dear, my question was meant to inquire about you . What do you like, what do you desire?”

I stared at Rook. Had I not answered the question?

But part of me had heard Rook, because from the depths of my mind, I saw it. The white cottage off in the woods, and the freedom that came with it… I shook it away and gulped my tea. “I—I don’t know. I’m fond of sewing, but mostly, I just want my family to be happy and safe.”

“That sounds like an awful lot of responsibility.”

Though Rook didn’t say it out loud, I could almost hear him whisper:

‘A cage of my own creation, but a cage nonetheless.’

Silence settled in the library. Rook cleared his throat and said, “Are you up for a joke? Well, more like a riddle. A fellow woodcutter told me it, back in the day.”

I wasn’t in the mood, but I supposed that was Rook’s point. He was overjoyed by my return and wanted to share that mirth.

“Go ahead,” I said.

"What hangs at a man's thigh and wants to prod the hole that its often prod before?”

“Um…” I shifted uncomfortably. “Is it…” I stared at the crotch of Rook’s trousers.

“Liliwen,” Rook remarked, feigning dismay. He withdrew a keyring from his jacket. “A key!”

I groaned.

“I didn’t say it was a good joke!” Rook defended and laughed. Waving at the castle, he said, “Unfortunately, the court jester died quite some time ago; I checked the graveyard.”

“How’d he die?”

“Well,” A cringe wiped Rook’s smile. “He was eaten.”

I sipped my tea, and said, “Do you think he tasted funny?” Rook’s somber frown leapt into a satisfied smile. That was the funniest thing of all, and I howled.

I realized with a great deal of sadness…I was going to miss this. We continued talking of nothing. I thought it a wonder, how he didn’t tire of hearing me speak of the small things, and before long, the fire was providing the only light in the library.

A yawn snuck up on me.

“We should rest,” Rook said. Panic woke me quicker than if I’d been doused with water. We couldn’t sleep. If Rook fell asleep…

I’m not ready!

“But, you said you needed answers!” I jumped up and grabbed the book we’d been reading. “We’re so close to the end!” Returning to my seat, I opened the book and hid behind the cover.

Rook laughed as I stifled another yawn. “I’ve waited this long; what’s one more night?”

“But—”

“The answer will be there in the morning.” Rook tapped my arm. “You’ve had a long day.” Standing, he went to put out the fire.

“Wait!” Rook stopped, poker in hand. Desperate for inspiration, I looked around the library… The music box! I pointed and blurted, “Dance!” I almost knocked Rook into the flames as I sprung up and wrenched open the music box. A soft melody filled the library. “Dance with me!”

Setting the poker down, Rook smiled and said, “Very well.” He beckoned me forward, and I went to him.

Sliding his arm around my back, Rook pulled me close.

I molded to him. As we swayed, I recalled our first dance, how rigid it was.

Tonight, there was no space between us. Once, I’d avoided Rook’s face, but now, I couldn’t stop looking.

I wanted to memorize the lines—the scar that ran along his cheek.

Did he hate that scar?

I thought it the most beautiful, interesting thing about him. I’d never told him, wouldn’t get a chance.

“This will seem forward,” Rook began. “While you were gone, I thought of nothing else.” He cleared his throat.

“Liliwen, my life is an everlasting road of regret. But, watching you flee across the meadow—I’ve never known such anguish.

” Rook cast his eyes down. “It’s evil of me, but in that moment, I wished I’d kept you here.

Stolen you away from whatever life you lived before me.

That regret so swiftly turned to torment.

Over and over, I scolded myself. If only I’d told you how I felt, maybe you would have stayed. ”

“My brother needed me—”

“I know, I know, it’s foolish.” Rook chuckled. “You always would have left. But the doubtful mind sees mistakes, not reason.”

“You were simply lonely,” I muttered. “You would say these things to anyone who walked in here.”

“No. No, I wouldn’t,” Rook corrected. “You witnessed my unkindness when you found this cursed place. You could have let me suffer and die. You didn’t.

You helped me—a beast. Even if I knew nothing else of your character, that would be enough.

” I glanced down. Rook brought my face back to his, refusing to let me hide.

“Only you.”

Rook continued, “I promised myself, if I ever met you again, I would tell you how I felt. Once you knew, then you might decide what to do with it, and I would be content. I could rest knowing I’d given you this piece of me to hold or destroy.

” Rook leaned forward, and I thought he might kiss me.

Instead, Rook rested his forehead against mine and closed his eyes.

“I want to spend every moment, every breath, with you .”

The music seemed to vanish; the crackling fire dimmed.

There was just Rook and me, and his forehead pressed against mine.

Rook pulled away, and I almost wished he had kissed me.

Our lips pressed together would be less intimate than his whispered confessions.

Concerned, Rook wiped a tear from my face.

“You are dreadfully silent.” Beneath furrowed brows, he asked, “Have I been deceived; do you not feel these things too?”

Those were two separate questions. The first was easy, but the second was not so readily answered, and I struggled to reconcile that.

“I see the way you look at me,” Rook said.

“Before you left, you kissed me with such fervor. Surely, that was not false.” Rook chuckled, a nervous thing.

“You came back to me.” When, still, I could say nothing, Rook licked his lip and said, “Please.” Dropping my hands, he backed away.

“Tell me if I’m mistaken, and I will leave you be. ”

Seeing Rook leave, I panicked and shouted, “No!” It startled Rook, and I composed myself. “No,” I whispered. “You are not mistaken.”