Chapter Sixty three: Flutters and close calls

Chapter Sixty three: Flutters and close calls
Freya lay in her chamber staring at the ceiling, covers tangled around her legs. Sleep would not come. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the glowing map, heard General Rhorvak’s heavy voice repeating The Core… untested… dangerous. Her mind spun with questions that had no neat answers, and her heart ached with the thought of Axir out there carrying all of it on his shoulders.

With a frustrated sigh, she tossed the blanket aside and padded barefoot across the floor. The estate was quiet, the silence broken only by the occasional clang of armored boots from guards patrolling. She eased the door open carefully, biting her lip like a child sneaking past curfew. She told herself it wasn’t because she feared Axir would scold her—it was just… well, maybe it was exactly that.

The hallway stretched long and dim, lanterns glowing soft amber, casting tall shadows. She tiptoed, careful not to make her footsteps echo. At the far end, she noticed a door cracked open, spilling a faint draft. Curiosity tugged her forward. When she pushed it, she found herself stepping onto a terrace.

Her breath caught.

The sky of Nimoa stretched above her like a living painting. Curtains of color shimmered, folding and twisting like the aurora she’d only ever seen in Earth documentaries. Golds melted into teal, violet flared against emerald. Stars glimmered in between, bright as sparks scattered across black velvet.

Freya leaned against the railing, heart softening. For a moment, despite everything, she felt small and wondrous. This is what they’re fighting for, she thought. Worlds this beautiful. Skies that deserve to be seen.

But the Core’s shadow crept into her awe. If it truly had the power Rhorvak hinted, then she couldn’t sit idle. She wanted to help Axir. To help protect what was left of Zytherion, even Kehan with his sly smiles. Kehan… The thought of him sent an odd ripple down her spine. She barely knew him, and yet his memory lingered like a spark. She scolded herself—you love Axir. That’s the truth. So why does Kehan’s name tangle in your thoughts?

“Core invaded your dreams, did it?”

Freya nearly jumped out of her skin. She spun too fast, heel slipping on the stone. The world tilted—and suddenly strong arms caught her waist.

“You should be careful,” Kehan murmured, grin curling as he steadied her. “You might fall.” He paused, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Into me. I mean—you might hurt yourself.” He chuckled at his own joke.

Heat rushed to her cheeks. “You wish,” she snapped, though the words came out more flustered than she intended. “I wouldn’t even be tripping if you didn’t sneak up like some… some shadow-cat!”

Kehan lifted both hands in mock surrender, shoulders shaking with laughter. “Alright, alright! Guilty. I’ll walk with a bell next time.”

His smile softened, though, as he studied her face under the Nimoan sky. “Tell me something. Have we met before?”

Freya blinked. “I… don’t think so.”

“You feel familiar,” Kehan said, voice quieter now. His gaze searched her, almost uncertain. Then he shook his head with a laugh. “Ah, probably nothing.”

Still, his words unsettled her. Because deep inside, she had felt it too—that strange safety around him, as though he wasn’t new at all.

Kehan broke the silence first. “So. How long have you been traveling with our Zytherion friends?”

“A while now,” Freya replied cautiously.

“And you and the High Prince…?” He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck like a boy caught peeking at secrets. “What exactly is your relationship with him? He seems… protective.”

Freya’s eyes widened. Is he jealous? The thought startled her—but the way his ears tinged faintly green, the way he refused to meet her eyes, it was almost… cute.

“We’re close,” she said slowly. “Friends and…” Her voice trailed. What were she and Axir? Lovers? They’d kissed, shared words, but had never named it. Boyfriend-girlfriend? That sounded absurdly small for what they were. Yet neither had defined it.

Kehan caught himself and laughed awkwardly. “Forget I asked. None of my business.”

Freya hugged her arms to herself. A breeze cut across the terrace, sharp with evening chill.

“Cold?” Kehan’s voice softened. Without waiting for her answer, he shrugged off his jacket, stepping close to drape it across her shoulders. His scent clung to it—zesty, clean, something that felt like rivers and fresh earth.

Freya stiffened, her face warm again. “You didn’t have to—”

“I know,” he said simply. “But I wanted to.”

They stood close now, watching the sky ripple with color. Kehan tilted his head. “Tell me about Earth.”

So she did. About her little town, the library job, her cottage with creaky floors. About tea and markets and rainy afternoons. Kehan listened with an openness that made her chest ache. Sometimes he interrupted with ridiculous suggestions—“We’ll visit your market together, yes? I’ll be the green man everyone stares at while you buy bread.” She laughed despite herself.

Time slipped by unnoticed, until a yawn betrayed her. She covered it quickly, but Kehan’s grin was merciless.

“Come on, princess,” he said lightly. “Let me walk you back before you collapse.”

Back at her chamber door, Freya began slipping off the jacket. “Thank you—”

But Kehan stopped her, gently pulling it back around her shoulders. He leaned closer, voice teasing. “Keep it. For company. When you miss me too much.”

Her stomach flipped. “I will not—”

“Goodnight, my princess,” he said with a mock bow. His face lingered near hers, eyes bright. Freya’s breath hitched, half-ready, half-terrified. She closed her eyes—

—and felt the brush of lips on her cheek.

She gasped, eyes flying open, only to see his back already retreating down the hall, shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

Mortified, she scrambled inside, muttering, “My eye was itchy, that’s all!”

From the hall, Kehan’s voice floated back, smug and sing-song. “Sure, sure, my princess! Dream of me tonight!”

Freya slammed the door shut, back pressed against it, her face aflame. She buried herself in his jacket, breathing its scent, heart pounding so fast she thought it might wake the entire estate.