"I remembered something."
The whispered words, full of a dawning, soul deep terror, hung in the silent, artifact filled hall of the Louvre. Iuno was pale as a sheet, her body trembling, her eyes wide with the aftershock of a memory she could not comprehend.
Aylin's mind raced. The Author's warning was a klaxon in her soul: To speak the truth is to shatter the chance. Her mind, fragile and mortal in that realm, would break. She had pushed too hard, too fast. The gambit had worked, but the psychic backlash threatened to shatter the very soul she was trying to save. She needed to ground her, to pull her back from the edge of that terrifying, alien memory and anchor her firmly in the mundane reality of the 21st century.
She took Iuno's arm, her grip firm and steady. "You look pale, Miss Li," she said, her voice a mask of calm, professional concern. "The air in this section is stuffy, and you have been working far too hard. The research is over for today." She began to lead the still dazed Iuno away from the display case, her voice an unbreakable, gentle command. "We are going to get some fresh air. And something to eat."
Outside, the bright Parisian sun was a stark contrast to the dim, heavy atmosphere of the museum. The sights and sounds of the city rushed in, a vibrant, living tapestry that helped to slowly push the ghostly vision from Iuno's mind. Aylin, seeking a simple, grounding experience, led them to a small, charming bakery, a boulangerie, the air around which smelled of butter, sugar, and warm, yeasty bread.
The baker, a cheerful, portly man with a magnificent mustache, greeted them with a torrent of rapid fire, melodic French. Aylin, preparing to use a universal gesture of pointing, was stunned when Iuno, as if on autopilot, responded in fluent, perfect French, her accent flawless. She ordered two croissants and two coffees with a grace and ease that was utterly baffling.
As they sat at a tiny sidewalk table, Aylin's mind reeled. What is this strange, rolling language? she wondered, before a jolt of realization shot through her. Wait. I understood every word. The implanted memories of "Aylin Moon," the well educated corporate director, included a fluency in several languages she had never personally learned. This body, she thought, this shell the Author gave me… it possesses knowledge I did not earn. How very… peculiar.
The warm, flaky croissant was a revelation. Iuno took a bite, and the simple, buttery perfection of it seemed to finally chase the last of the shadows from her eyes. She looked… okay. More than okay. She looked like a woman who had just survived a terrible ordeal and was now rediscovering the simple joy of being alive.
Seeing her relax, Aylin decided to cede control. A good leader knew when to delegate. "You seem to know your way around this city's customs far better than I," she said, a rare and genuine admission of her own fallibility.
Emboldened by her boss's strange new deference and the success of her French, Iuno began to blossom. The timid accountant, for a few precious hours, was replaced by a confident, cheerful tour guide. She, who had never left the country before, led her all powerful boss on a meandering, joyful tour of Paris.
They walked along the Seine, Iuno explaining the history of the old bridges. They encountered a street artist who insisted on drawing their caricature. Aylin sat with the regal, stiff posture of an Empress being forced to endure a court jester, while Iuno posed with an endearingly awkward smile. The resulting drawing, which gave Aylin a comically large crown and Iuno giant, sparkling anime eyes, made Iuno erupt into a fit of genuine, unrestrained laughter.
The sound was the most beautiful thing Aylin had heard in this world.
Their journey eventually led them to the foot of the Eiffel Tower, a magnificent, absurd latticework of steel that defied gravity. Iuno, now full of a tourist's un ironic enthusiasm, insisted they take a picture.
"We have to!" she said, pulling out the small, black mirror she called her 'phone'. After three failed attempts that were mostly pictures of their own foreheads, a kind stranger offered to take it for them.
They stood side by side, the tower soaring into the blue sky behind them. Aylin stood with her practiced, serene composure. Iuno, in a moment of pure, unthinking joy, leaned in slightly and beamed, her smile brilliant and utterly real. It was their first photograph.
The walk back to their apartment from the Eiffel Tower was a quiet, comfortable affair. The day's excitement had left them both in a state of pleasant exhaustion. The city of Paris, now lit by a million golden lights, felt less like a strange, alien world and more like the backdrop to a beautiful, shared memory.
They stopped at a small, charming bistro for dinner, a place with checkered tablecloths and a warm, inviting atmosphere. The conversation was easy, flowing from Iuno's excited observations about Parisian life to Aylin's (expertly fabricated) tales of other European cities she had visited for "business." She found herself weaving in details from her real life as Lan Yue, describing the sprawling, ancient architecture of a cultivation sect's mountain fortress as a "reclusive Swiss monastery," and the chaotic markets of a demonic border town as a "boisterous and rather uncivilized port city in the south."
Iuno listened, completely captivated, hanging on every word. To her, her Director was not just a powerful executive, but a worldly, experienced, and fascinating woman.
It was late when they finally returned to their luxurious apartment. Iuno, stifling a yawn, looked around the grand salon. "Goodnight, Director. And… thank you. For today. It was a really wonderful day." She started to turn towards the large, stylish, and deeply uncomfortable looking sofa that was clearly meant for decoration, not for sleeping.
"What are you doing, Miss Li?" Aylin asked, her voice calm and matter of fact as she set her keys on a marble console table.
Iuno stopped, looking confused. "Oh! I was just going to… you know, get the couch ready. I won't be any trouble!" To her, the certainty of a week of back pain was infinitely preferable to the horrifying impropriety of suggesting anything else.
Aylin looked at the sofa, then back at Iuno's determined, terrified face. She let out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh. "That sofa is an impractical piece of modern art, not furniture. I will not sleep on it, and I will not permit my Assistant Director to develop a spinal condition that will undoubtedly impact her work efficiency."
She met Iuno's panicked gaze with perfect, logical calm. "The bed is more than large enough for two individuals to maintain a professional distance. I see no other rational solution. If you don't want me to sleep on the couch, then I shall sleep on the other side of the bed."
Iuno stopped dead in her tracks, her face flushing a deep crimson. "What?" she squeaked, her exhaustion vanishing, replaced by a jolt of pure, professional panic. "Director, no! I couldn't possibly! That's… that's completely and utterly inappropriate!"
"I fail to see what is inappropriate about it," Aylin countered, adopting a look of perfect, logical innocence. "This is a high level corporate research trip. The Vanguard project is incredibly sensitive. Wasting time and energy due to poor quality of rest is a logistical failure. We will share the room. That is an order."
Trapped and outmaneuvered by her boss's strange but unassailable logic, Iuno had no choice but to give a small, mortified nod.
Later that night, the apartment was dark and silent, bathed in the soft, pearlescent glow of the Parisian moon filtering through the balcony doors. Aylin lay on her side of the vast, ridiculously comfortable bed, but she could not sleep. A few feet away, separated by a wide expanse of crisp, cool sheets, Iuno lay perfectly still, her back to Aylin, pretending to be asleep with a tension so profound Aylin could feel it in the air.
Eventually, however, the day's exhaustion claimed her, and Iuno's tense posture relaxed as she drifted into a genuine, deep sleep.
Aylin listened to the soft, even rhythm of her breathing, a sound that was a balm to her ancient, weary soul. With a celestial's grace, her movements making no sound, she turned onto her side to face the sleeping woman. In the dim light, Iuno's features were soft and unguarded. The stress and anxiety of her waking life had melted away, leaving a peacefulness that was breathtakingly beautiful.
A wave of fierce, protective tenderness washed over Aylin. She had not come all this way, defied a cosmic author, and started a corporate cold war just to let the soul of her beloved sleep a few feet away like a stranger.
Slowly, hesitantly, she reached out. Her fingers, trembling almost imperceptibly, came to rest on Iuno's cheek. The skin was warm, soft, and alive. She gently brushed a stray strand of dark brown hair away from her forehead, her touch as light as a moth's wing. She traced the curve of her jaw, the line of her brow, memorizing this new, mortal face that housed her entire universe.
A sad, fond smile touched Aylin's lips as she watched her. She thought of their daughter, Xue An, a being of celestial light and barely contained power, waiting for them worlds away. And then she looked at this fragile, mortal form beside her.
If our daughter, Xue An, were to be born a mere mortal, she thought, her heart aching with a strange mix of sorrow and adoration, she would look just like this. Not a future empress with hair like the moon, but a quiet, beautiful girl with soft brown hair. She would look like a timid scholar, but she would have that same fire, that same stubborn spirit hidden deep inside.
The thought was so tender, so heartbreakingly poignant, that she let out a soft, silent chuckle, a sound of pure, unadulterated love. She didn't sleep. For the rest of the night, she simply lay there and adored this woman. She watched the way her brow would occasionally furrow in a dream, the way her lips would part in a soft sigh. She was a guardian, a lover, a ghost keeping vigil over a soul that was slowly, painstakingly, finding its way back home. For the first time since arriving in this cold, loud world, Aylin closed her eyes and felt a profound, healing peace settle over her.