William's brow furrowed. "Jasmine… are you all right?"
Her heart lurched at his voice. She blinked, realizing only then that she had gone completely still, her face drained of color.
"I'm fine," she said quickly, perhaps too quickly. Her tone was calm, but her voice lacked its usual steadiness. "Just… a bit light-headed still. Nothing to worry about."
William's eyes lingered on her a moment longer. She was pale enough to look translucent under the dim light, and her hands trembled slightly where they rested on her lap. But she had always been stubborn about appearing composed. With a faint sigh, he let the matter drop, for now.
"I see," he said quietly. "Then you should rest. I'll have Lilian bring you something warm before I leave."
She nodded faintly, forcing a small smile. "Thank you."
But her mind was far from rest.
Inside, her thoughts spiraled in wild, tangled directions. What do I do?
The vision still burned in her memory — the valley, the war, the elves, and that spear striking straight through William's chest. It had felt so real. Too real. And now he was speaking of leaving… to the North.
The same direction.
She gripped the edge of the sheet until her knuckles turned white. Should she ask him not to go? Tell him what she saw?
No — how could she possibly explain that? That she dreamed his death, and it felt like the future? He'd think her fever had driven her mad.
But what if it wasn't far off? What if what she saw wasn't months away… but days? Hours?
Her mind whirled with endless possibilities — none she could settle on, none that brought comfort.
William was watching her again, silent but concerned. She forced herself to meet his gaze and managed a weak, reassuring smile, though it didn't reach her eyes.
"Really," she said softly, "I'll be fine."
He nodded once, but his expression stayed troubled.
Jasmine took a quiet breath, steadying herself. "Then… I wish you luck on your journey, brother," she said softly.
William gave her a small, warm smile. "Thank you, Jasmine."
But just as he turned slightly toward the door, she hesitated, then spoke again.
"William," she said suddenly, her tone calm but carrying an undertone that made him pause.
He turned back to her, curious. "Yes?"
She hesitated for a moment, her fingers tightening around the edge of her blanket. Then, as if she'd made up her mind, she asked, "Who is May?"
The question hit him like a physical blow.
William's brows drew together sharply, his expression shifting, first to surprise, then to something much harder to read. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "What are you talking about?"
But inside, his thoughts churned.
May?
There was only one person she could mean. But that was impossible. How could Jasmine know that name?
Still, he forced his face to remain composed, his tone even.
"May," Jasmine repeated, watching him closely. "A certain elf lady… if I'm not mistaken."
This time, he couldn't hide it. His expression tightened, his jaw flexing slightly. That description, it narrowed the possibilities to one.
He glanced toward Lilian, who was standing silently by the door, ever watchful.
"Lilian," Jasmine said softly, her gaze still on William. "Would you give us a moment?"
Lilian hesitated briefly, then bowed her head. "As you wish, my lady." She left the room quietly, closing the door behind her.
Silence filled the chamber.
William stood there for a long moment, his eyes never leaving his sister. Then, his voice dropped low, steady but edged with tension.
"What do you know, Jasmine?"
She met his gaze evenly, though her heart raced.
Jasmine took a deep breath. She had thought long and hard about what to do — how to explain, but time was slipping away. William would be leaving the next day.
And as much as she didn't like her siblings, she didn't hate them either. Well… most of them. William, at least, was level-headed and smart. Not as insufferable as the rest.
Letting him go, knowing what fate awaited him, would be cruel. She could never live with herself if he died and she had done nothing.
But how could she tell him? How could she say she'd seen a vision of his death? He'd never believe her.
So she had come to a conclusion: May's name. That would be enough to make him listen. If she spoke a name she was never supposed to know, perhaps he'd take her seriously.
And yet… maybe she didn't need to go that far. Maybe a few subtle hints would be enough. Everyone knew Jasmine didn't joke.
In a rare display, she smiled calmly at her brother and said, "Well, William… I never thought you the type to fall in love, much less with an elf."
William froze. For a heartbeat, he said nothing. Then color flooded his face, and he turned sharply away, flustered.
William took a steadying breath, forcing himself to meet Jasmine's eyes. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, carefully measured. "You wouldn't understand."
Jasmine arched an eyebrow, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "Well, look at that, you're not denying it."
He sighed, realizing she'd caught him. "You seem to know more than you let on," he said quietly. "So I suppose there's no point in pretending otherwise."
He rose from where he stood, crossed the room, and pulled out the chair from her study table. Bringing it to her bedside, he sat down, his movements deliberate, not hurried, but weighted.
For a moment, neither spoke. Then William drew in a slow breath, his voice softening as he began."I met May during my years at the Academy. At first, it was nothing more than friendship; we studied together, sparred a few times. But… as time went on, we grew close. Closer than I intended."A faint, rueful smile crossed his face. "One thing led to another, and I came to care for her. Deeply. More than I should have."
His gaze drifted toward the floor. "After graduation, duty called us both to different paths. We said our goodbyes and went our separate ways. I thought that was the end of it."
He paused, fingers tightening slightly on his knee. "We crossed paths again, once, a few years ago. It was brief. We both knew it couldn't last."
He let out a quiet sigh, one heavy with years of regret. Jasmine could feel the weight of it in the air, not just sorrow, but longing.
After a long silence, he turned his gaze back to her, eyes sharp now."Jasmine," he said softly, "how do you know about her? And about… us?"
Jasmine exhaled slowly, eyes downcast for a moment before meeting William's gaze again."If I told you," she said quietly, "you wouldn't believe me."
He tilted his head slightly, his expression firm but patient. "Try me."
Jasmine hesitated, searching his face. His eyes, calm, steady, so certain, made her chest tighten. But she forced herself to speak.
"May is planning to kill you," she said evenly. "It will happen during your time on the Northern border."
William froze. The words seemed to hang in the air between them, sharp and cold.
"Don't ask how I know," Jasmine continued quickly, her voice low but steady. "The fewer questions you ask, the better. Just know I couldn't let you go without warning you."
William's brows drew together, the shock plain in his eyes. "Jasmine… how do you know all this?"
"I said," she replied curtly, "the fewer questions, the better."
His frown deepened. "But she would never—"
Jasmine cut him off, her tone suddenly sharp. "Have you ever thought it might've been too good to be true? Too convenient?"
That made him pause. His eyes narrowed slightly, not in anger, but in thought. Jasmine watched him carefully, silently noting the shift in his expression. Good. The seed of doubt was there. Whatever happened next would be up to him. She had done her part.
After a long silence, William finally spoke. "Well… thank you for the warning," he said quietly. "Even if I don't understand how you came by it."
He rose from his chair, hesitating only a moment before adding, "Do you have any advice? About the northern border?"
Jasmine considered, then said simply, "Be prepared. Whatever plans you've made, double them. Maybe triple. Don't underestimate your opponent, and keep your guard up at all times."
William nodded slowly. "I will."
They spoke for a few moments more, polite, almost mundane, before he finally left the room.
When the door shut behind him, Jasmine let out a long breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Now," she murmured to herself, "with that out of the way, I can rest easy."
The weight that had been pressing on her chest eased, if only slightly.
Moments later, Lilian returned, carrying a tray of warm dishes, simple but prepared with care. Jasmine ate quietly, her thoughts distant, and as the last rays of sunlight slipped below the horizon, she drifted into sleep.
...
William paced the length of his study, his thoughts a storm that refused to settle. Jasmine had always been… different, an anomaly among his siblings. But this? This went beyond anything she had ever done before.
How did she know May? And how, by the gods, did she know about that, about May's supposed plan to kill him?
It made no sense. Jasmine was many things: cold, calculating, at times distant, but she was not one to spout nonsense. That, above all else, gave him pause.
He exhaled slowly, then turned to the table where his maps and deployment plans lay scattered. With a grim expression, he began redrawing them. The changes would delay his departure, though only by a few hours. Still, he could not afford to take chances.
He tripled the number of reinforcements he would bring. Then, after a moment's hesitation, he reached into his desk drawer and drew out a small medallion, black metal, engraved with the emblem of a raven. It glimmered faintly in the candlelight.
His life-saving treasure.
He had planned to leave it behind. It was, after all, a rare artifact, a one-time use, crafted only by the finest artificers. Priceless, irreplaceable. And the mission, he had thought, did not warrant such precautions.
Now, though, he wasn't so sure.
He turned the medallion over in his hand, its weight heavy, not just in metal, but in meaning. He had others like it, but none as potent. This one could turn the tide between life and death.
With a quiet sigh, he slipped it into the inner pocket of his cloak.
Better safe than sorry.
He left the study soon after, the echo of his boots trailing down the stone corridor as he made his way toward the garrison to alert his retainers. The plan had changed, and they would need to move accordingly.
As he walked, his thoughts turned again to Jasmine's warning. May is planning to kill you.
It sounded absurd. Unthinkable. And yet…
He had questioned her once, back in the Academy, small things, strange moments. She had acted oddly sometimes, evasive, secretive. He had ignored it then, blinded by affection.
He had even considered making their relationship public. That was how deeply he had fallen, enough to challenge the age-old hatred between elves and humans. He had believed, with all his heart, that their love could transcend that divide. That it might even bring peace between their peoples.
Even now, despite the years apart, he still carried that hope. Still carried her.
But if Jasmine was right…
Then he had been played like a fiddle. completely and utterly.
He clenched his jaw, pushing the thought down as he stepped out into the cold night air. The torches lining the courtyard flickered in the wind.
"Let's hope you're wrong, Jasmine," he murmured to himself. "For both our sakes."
Then he turned toward the garrison, the medallion cold against his chest.