We ate and we talked.
I mostly talked, and Caleb listened. It was a strange dynamic, but I thoroughly enjoyed myself.
When we were finished, and I'd had enough of the restaurant, I moved to call over a server to pay.
"You don't have to do that," Caleb said.
I raised a brow. "Excuse me?"
"I've got it."
I laughed once, sharply. "Caleb, that's absurd."
"Even if you want to," he said calmly, "I already paid in advance. I asked you out, didn't I? This one's on me."
I should have insisted. I had every reason to. Tradition. Status. Sense. Payment was not generosity; it was acknowledgment. Letting someone, a man, cover the expenses was a line that shouldn't have been crossed.
But I found myself oddly swayed.
But Caleb didn't argue. He didn't puff up or press his point. He stated it calmly, like a concluded matter, and moved on. There was nothing to push against, nothing to correct.
Taking the lead, I suggested we take a walk after dinner. I felt like I was losing. What exactly I was losing, I didn't know - but I wasn't going to lose.
We walked side by side through Astar at night.
It was beautiful. Its night beauty was different from its day beauty, and I felt like I didn't appreciate it often enough at night.
Someday, this city would be mine in law and title. But tonight, it did not know me. I walked through it unrecognized, unclaimed.
Caleb kept pace beside me, hands clasped behind his back, gaze forward. Not avoiding me - just giving me space. I told myself that was considerate.
We ended up at a small park, half-forgotten. The gates were open, the paths inside narrow, the trees old.
"It's dark," I said, more observation than complaint.
"Just a moment," he said.
He lifted one hand. "Sol."
Light gathered and then bloomed into a small golden sphere above his palm.
He released it. The light drifted upward and cast a soft glow.
"Do you want to hold my hand?" He asked, too casually.
"I-" I said before he took my hand.
His hand, though not bigger than mine, was rugged and strong, most likely due to the training he did with Maren and on his own.
I was starting to sweat.
We wandered a little longer, tracing a small circle along the park's path.
My heels clicked on the stone path as it became the only sound we could hear.
"Can I ask you something strange?" Caleb asked.
I glanced at him sidelong. "That depends. Is it stupid?"
"Maybe. Just hypothetically."
I sighed. "Go on."
He looked ahead as he spoke, not at me. "If today were your last day on earth - no tomorrow, no aftermath - what would you do with it?"
I stopped walking and folded my arms. "That's a ridiculous question."
"I know."
I considered brushing it off, giving some clever non-answer about duty or legacy. Or just lying. Something polished. The sort of thing people expected from a princess when imagining an ending.
But the light above us drifted a little lower, and an unpleasant quiet pressed in. I couldn't stand it.
When I spoke, the truth surprised me with how selfish it sounded.
"I suppose," I said slowly, "I'd do nothing I was supposed to. I wouldn't let anyone tell me what was appropriate for a princess. I'd go somewhere anonymous and do what I wanted."
Caleb listened without judgment, without surprise.
"That sounds nice," he said. "Without worrying. I'd walk until my feet hurt."
He smiled softly. "Anything else?"
"I'd want someone with me," I admitted, irritation flaring at the confession. "Not guards. Not advisers. Just… someone who didn't expect anything from me."
"That makes sense."
"What about you?"
He didn't answer right away.
"I think," he said at last, "I wouldn't know what I'd do. I think I'd do nothing. If I had the chance to live one more day, I'd take it - but if it really was the last one, then nothing. I'd go lie in my bed and sleep."
No yearning. Just acceptance. It unsettled me how little he reached for more - how his answer made no space for… me at all.
I frowned. "That's not a good answer."
"No," he said. "But at least it's honest."
I searched his face for irony, for drama.
There was none.
"That's bleak."
He sat on a bench in the park. "It's freeing, in a strange way."
I stood there a moment, then sat beside him.
The light above us dimmed slightly, and I looked at him.
The suit he wore softened in the glow. The deep neckline, lined with something faintly sparkly, shone like gold. The same light caught the tiny beads of sweat at his neck from the evening heat.
His hair picked up a quiet sheen as well.
I frowned again.
This was ridiculous.
Still, I had to admit it.
He looked good.
I cleared my throat.
"You know," I said stiffly, "you're… well."
"Am I?"
I gestured vaguely, immediately regretting it. "No, I mean… you look well."
That wasn't right. I tried again, irritation creeping in. "You look-"
"It's alright, Io. I know what you mean," he said gently. "I guess the light helps, doesn't it?" He pointed upward.
I scowled, heat rising to my face. "Don't sound so smug."
"I'm not," he replied. "I'm just glad you're here. You look good too, you know."
That, somehow, was worse.
He grew quiet after that, and for some reason I was afraid to look at him.
There was a moment - just before he spoke again - when I noticed the change. His shoulders squared. His breathing slowed, measured. His hands rested flat against his knees, fingers still, as if he had already decided where they belonged.
He straightened slightly on the bench, as if preparing himself for something unpleasant but necessary.
This wasn't impulsive. This wasn't nerves getting the better of him. Whatever was coming next had been prepared for - accepted in advance.
"Io," he said.
"Yes?"
Then, without ceremony, he slid off the bench and knelt in front of me.
"No," I said immediately, reflexively - because surely this was some continuation of the madness from earlier.
He held up a hand. Not commanding. Asking.
He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket. For a split second, I thought of all the girls I'd seen him kneel before that day, and something sharp twisted in my chest.
The ring was simple. Too simple for a princess. Gold, unadorned save for a small, pale stone that caught the light like ice.
"Io Amoon," he said quietly, "will you marry me?"
I stared at him, at the ring, at the absurdity of it all. A princess. A proposal in a forgotten park. A boy who had spent the day being rejected by half the academy, now looking at me as if I were the only answer that mattered.
A boy I had known all my life.
My best friend.
I should have said no.
I knew every reason to refuse. I could have listed them aloud if pressed. A princess did not accept a proposal like this, in a forgotten park, from a boy with no title to offer.
But beneath all of that was something harder to confront. A quiet, traitorous thought that I would never speak of aloud. Nothing grandiose. It was simple, and it frightened me all the more.
I met his eyes again, and before I could assemble another argument, I let the moment decide for me.
Caleb exhaled - a sound halfway between relief and something like grief - and rose to his feet. He slid the ring onto my finger with careful hands, as if afraid I might shatter.
It fit.
We stood there, suddenly too close, the light casting our shadows together on the path. I could feel his heat and the smell of his perfume.
For a moment, I could do nothing. I just stared at my hand, at the thin circle of gold now resting there as if it had always belonged. It felt absurdly light and heavy at the same time.
I waited for something to descend - fear or uncertainty, but nothing came. Instead, there was only this quiet, precarious calm, like standing on the edge of something without the fear of falling down.
Caleb watched me carefully, not triumphant, not relieved - only attentive. As if he were prepared for anything I might do next, including taking the ring off and handing it back.
I realized, with a faint jolt of alarm, that this wasn't a victory or a loss or a test.
It was a choice. And worse - one he seemed willing to let remain mine - mine alone.
This was the moment, wasn't it?
He looked at me with his big eyes.
I tilted my chin down despite myself, leaning in. He did too.
He lifted himself to meet me, but then-
He stopped.
He set his hands on my shoulder and pushed me away. "I'm sorry, but I can't do this."
The words hit harder than any rejection ever could have. My dream world fell apart, and I was in reality again.
"What?" I snapped.
"I'm sorry," he said quickly, stepping back, anguish flickering across his face.
The light above us flickered and went out.
"Caleb!" I yelled, but he was already gone. "CALEB!"
I was left alone in the dark.