Chapter 5: The Almost-Kiss and a Very Inconvenient Picnic
Elaine had one rule: Don't get too comfortable.
This world—this story—wasn't hers. She was walking backward through a book someone else wrote. And falling for a supporting character who suddenly had main character energy? A certified terrible idea.
And yet… here she was.
On a picnic.
With Lior.
Under a tree.
In a meadow.
With strawberries.
It was like the universe had started fanfiction about them.
"This feels suspiciously like a date," she muttered, side-eying the basket full of suspiciously perfect finger sandwiches. "Who even packed this?"
"I did," Lior said, reclining on one elbow with infuriating ease. "You're welcome."
"You can't even fold your laundry. But you can chiffonade herbs?"
He shrugged. "Just because I'm a deadly knight doesn't mean I can't julienne a carrot."
She bit into a strawberry. It was delicious. Ugh. "You know this is how people fall in love, right? Bucolic setting. Berries. Emotionally unavailable man reveals unexpected layers."
"I'm not emotionally unavailable," he said, sounding vaguely offended. "I'm just emotionally... reserved. With flair."
She snorted. "Right. And this picnic was definitely not part of the favor I owe you from the tournament."
He looked entirely too pleased with himself. "Actually, it is."
Elaine blinked. "What?"
"You said I could call in my favor anytime," he reminded her. "So I decided today, you'd do absolutely nothing productive. Just eat fruit and pretend you like my company."
She opened her mouth to argue—but paused. Because honestly?
It felt kind of... nice.
They sat in silence for a while, the warm breeze tousling her hair, birds chirping like they were being paid extra. She almost forgot the world was rewinding around her like a broken music box.
"Why now?" she asked softly. "Why use your favor for this?"
Lior's gaze was steady. "Because tomorrow, or yesterday, or whenever fate decides to shuffle us next—you might not remember I did. Or worse, you'll remember and wish I hadn't waited."
Her heart did that traitorous flutter again.
"Elaine," he said, shifting so their knees brushed. "Do you ever think about what happens when string of fate move?"
"All the time," she said, almost before he finished. "What if I disappear? What if I forget? Or remember everything, and can't do anything to stop it?"
Lior nodded once, his hand brushing hers on the grass. "Then I guess I should do this now."
"Do wha—"
He leaned in.
Not kissing. Not yet.
Just close enough that her thoughts stopped functioning. One of his hands reached up, tentative, tracing a path near her cheek like he was drawing a memory he didn't want to lose.
And just as their lips were about to meet—
"Lady Elaine!"
A footman burst from the trees like a spooked deer. "Urgent message from the palace!"
Elaine yelped and shoved Lior so hard he landed in the basket. Biscuits rained from the sky.
The footman gaped. "Did I… interrupt something?"
"No!" Elaine said too loudly. "Absolutely not! Nothing at all! Just a picnic. Two colleagues. Eating food. Far apart."
Lior groaned, half-buried in strawberries. "I'm going to poison that man's teacup."
As they rode back, Elaine kept her eyes on the horizon, her thoughts tangled and traitorous.
They were supposed to be going backward.
But her feelings?
They were unmistakably moving forward.