The Vision

Not a Date

Halfway through my tea, with a book precariously balanced on my knees, I was having the most peaceful day. I reached for another Moonrise bite, my hand hovered over the sticky, chewy, honey-glazed snack, when I came across a scene in my book that stole my attention.

No! Don’t do it! I cried out to my book. As my front door swung open, I jumped, heart racing, as I clutched my book protectively to my chest.

“Come with me,” Vael said, grinning, his hand extended to me.

“You’re supposed to knock first off,” I said, eyes narrowing on the redhead standing in my doorway, “secondly, you’re supposed to say hello.”

Vael reached over and knocked on the door frame. “Hello,” he said without pause. “Come with me.”

My brow arched. “Where?” I asked, closing her book with a soft thud and setting it on my side table.

“You’ll see.”

“That,” I started, eyes still narrowed on Vael, “is not a good answer.”

“It’s an excellent answer.” He replied, grinning, “Keeps the mystery alive.”

“It also sounds like the beginning of a terrible idea.”

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “Good thing I’m here to make sure it’s a good one.”

He walked over to my wardrobe and started to go through my drawers. “Not this,” he said, holding up a worn tunic like it was diseased. “Not this either. Are you hoarding these stains for sentimental value?”

“Get out of my wardrobe!” I shouted, charging over to him.

He ignored me entirely, tossing a pale moon-silver dress onto my bed. “Perfect.” Vael announced, “Put this dress on.”

“Absolutely not.” I scoffed, crossing my arms.

“You will,” he said, already dropping into my chair. “I’ll wait.” He picked up my unfinished tea and sipped it.

I stared at him. “That was mine, and I am not changing just because you’ve decided to barge into my home uninvited, mind you.”

“You invited me,” he said with infuriating calm. He picked up one of her moonrise bites.

“I did no such thing.”

“Semantics, tonight you’re… being escorted.” He replied, taking a bite of her snack.

“Oh, that’s much better,” I grumbled, with crossed arms, glaring at him. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Leave so I can change.”

“You can change right here.”

“No. I need privacy.”

“Why? We’ve taken baths together. You can change into a dress really fast.”

“I can’t stand you sometimes.”

“You love me.”

Ten minutes later, after a barrage of profanity in three different languages, I had put on the dress and brushed my hair. Vael looked me over slowly, golden eyes lingering with open approval.

“Turn,” he said.

“Why?”

“Turn.”

I turned, and he stepped forward to clasp a delicate pendant around my neck. My pulse jumped, and my stomach started to flutter as his warm, calloused fingers brushed against my skin.

“Spin,” he said.

“Vael”

“Spin,” he asked again. I did a quick spin, skirts flaring. “Perfect,” he said, grinning.

I narrowed my eyes at him, but he only offered me his arm.

“I am not taking your arm.” I scoffed, glaring at his outstretched arm.

“You will,” he replied without missing a beat. “Otherwise, you’ll trip on your own hem, and I’ll have to catch you.” He explained with an infuriating grin, “Either way, I win.”

I rolled my eyes and moved closer to him, gripping his arm to stop him from smirking so smugly.

. . .

We stepped onto the cobbled streets of downtown Moonfall, where the air was cool and filled with the scent of night-blooming jasmine and evening primrose. Market lanterns swayed overhead.

“Where exactly are we going?”

“You’ll see Moonbeam.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’re getting.”

I huffed but held his arm tight, trying not to think about how warm he was, or how strong his bicep felt as we continued on our walk to this mysterious location. I caught him glancing at me again and again, like he was checking to make sure I wasn’t planning to bolt, or maybe to admire the dress he’d bullied me into wearing.

But by the time they reached the heart of the Moon Court’s promenade, Vael steered me toward a restaurant with massive arched windows.

“Vael…” I said, eyes narrowing on him as I stopped in front of the restaurant beside him. The hostess greeted us with a bow.

“Your table is ready, my lord.”

“My Lord?” I mocked.

He only smiled, guiding me to a corner table already set with pale Night Phlox blossoms in a slender vase.

“You… planned this?”

“Of course,” he said, pulling out her chair. “I took care of everything.”

“Everything?”

“Yes, I even ordered ahead of time.”

“For what?” I demanded, sitting despite myself.

“Moon mint soup. Your favorite.”

My mouth opened, then shut again. “You’re—” I started.

“Perfect?” Vael cut in, “Yes, I’ve heard.”

I let out a long sigh through my nose while rubbing my temple. I opened her eyes to give him a flat look, but when my eyes met his, the faintest smile tugged at my lips.

The server soon arrived with two steaming bowls, mint wafting into the air as she set the bowls down in front of us. I savored a creamy, minty bite. My eyes rolled back with satisfaction, and I shuffled happily in my chair.

“I still hate you,” I muttered after a spoonful.

“You’re welcome,” he teased.

We ate in companionable quiet for a few moments, until he asked, “Do you remember the first time you had this?”

“Yes, mother brought it to me when I was sick.”

He smirked. “Wrong. I brought it to you. Your mother took credit.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is,” he said, the corner of his mouth curving upward. “You couldn’t stop sneezing long enough to thank me.”

“I would remember.”

“No, you were pretty delirious,” he murmured, not even looking up from his bowl. I glared at him over my spoon.

The soup bowls vanished, replaced by a delicate plate of roasted moon-petal salad drizzled with citrus nectar. I eyed it suspiciously.

“You pre-ordered this, too?”

“I know what you like.”

“That’s creepy.”

“Attentive.”

“Creepy.”

“Eat.”

The next course came out, Seared river-fish with lemon-thyme glaze. Cloud-bread stuffed with honeyed cheese. He watched my reactions like a man taking mental notes for the next decade. Halfway through the honeyed cheese, I set her fork down. “Vael, is this?”

“A date? Yes.”

I froze. “You can’t just say that in the middle of the.”

“Why not? You’re here, you’re wearing a dress, I’m feeding you everything you love, and there are flowers at the table. What else would you call it?”

“I’d call it.”

“Careful, Moonbeam, I’ll know if you lie.”

I picked up my fork again and stabbed the food with unnecessary force, glaring as I made eye contact. “You’re insufferable.”

“That’s not denial.”

Dessert arrived, a glass bowl of berry ice cream crowned with candied petals. I took one bite and sighed as the sweet cream melted on my tongue.

“I’ll take that as a thank you.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Liar.” He said watching me with the kind of patient, deliberate ease that meant he was planning something.

“What?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him again. He leaned back and let his golden gaze travel over me like he was memorizing the moment. “Come with me.”

“I’m still eating.”

“You’re poking at it more than eating, that means you’re done.”

“I still have half of my ice cream left.”

“It’s melted.” He replied, already standing, and tossing a few gold coins onto the table. I muttered about tyrants and unreasonable men, but followed him out of the restaurant anyway.

. . .

The air was cool and fragrant, the sky a deep violet, scattered with the first stars. Instead of leading me back toward the cottage. He led me through a narrow stone arch, past vines of moonflowers, into the quiet expanse of the gardens.

“Vael”

“Walk with me,” he asked, offering his arm to me again. I sighed and wrapped my arm around his. Together, we continued through rows of silver-leaf trees, each branch dripping with pale blossoms. He slowed near a cluster of luminescent star fruit, reaching up to pluck one.

“Your favorite,” he said, handing her the fruit

“How-”

“You think I don’t pay attention.”

“I know you don’t pay attention.”

“You’re such a liar,” he murmured.

I bit into the fruit just to avoid answering; the sweet-tart juice was cool against my tongue.

We reached the center of the garden, where an open-air pavilion stood beneath a canopy of flowering vines. He leaned against one of the moonstone pillars, watching me with his usual infuriating patience from the restaurant.

“What is this, really?”

“A date,” he replied.

“You can’t just-”

“I can,” he replied matter-of-factly, “and I did.”

“You’re the absolute worst.”

“But, you love me,” he corrected softly.

“I don’t.”

“You adore me.”

I rubbed my temples, “You’re so full of yourself.”

We lingered in the gardens, trading small jabs and long glances, until the night deepened and the flowers began to close. Our steps were quiet on the moonlit cobblestones as we left the gardens. The streets of the Moon Court were silent at this hour.

I still carried the fruit he’d given me, rolling it absently in my palm like I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t taken more than a bite.

“You’ve been smug all night.”

“I’ve been enjoying myself.”

“Same thing.”

“Not exactly.” He replied, his eyes looking me over. “Smug is when I know I’m winning. Enjoying myself is when I’m certain you’re having a good time too.”

I made a face, crinkling my nose at him. “I never said I was enjoying myself.”

He hummed, like the sound alone was disagreeing with me. “You haven’t even tried to run off,” he mused, “Not even once.”

“Because you ordered the entire meal without asking me.” I started, “It would be rude to waste food.”

“And you ate nearly every bite.”

“The soup was a bribe,” I replied, glaring at him while fidgeting with the points of my star fruit.

“An effective one.”

“You think you’re so clever.”

“I don’t think,” he replied, “I know.”

We reached the curve of the cliff path. We walked in silence. I was pretending I wasn’t aware of how close he was, every time his shoulder brushed mine.

“You’ve been planning this for a while, haven’t you?” I asked.

“Planning what?”

“This whole… Escorting me nonsense.” I replied, tossing my starfruit into the air and catching it.

He shrugged, unhurried. “I’ve been thinking, you needed a night out.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Because you already know the answer, Moonbeam.”

My jaw worked, and my eye twitched, but I couldn’t argue.

We reached my cottage. I unlocked my door and took a step past the threshold.

“This is the part where I say goodnight,” he said, staring at the other side of the doorway.

“Goodnight, then.”

He looked at me with that infuriating patience again, the kind that made my heart flutter, and my cheeks heat.

“What?” I asked, holding the door to keep my hands still.

“Usually,” he said slowly, “a date ends with something more.”

“This wasn’t a date.”

“Lire.” He stepped in, close enough for the heat of him to brush against me, for the scent of Sandalwood to fill my senses.

I opened my mouth to object, but before I could, his hand cupped my chin, and he kissed me. His hand moved lightly up my jaw, his thumb brushing the edge of my cheek. I could feel my heart thudding, like it would leap from my chest.

When he drew back, there was that grin again, softer now but no less smug. And part of me screamed to pull him back and kiss him again.

“Now that we’ve officially been on a date,” he said, “we’re officially dating.”

“We are not.”

“Liar.”

I sputtered for words, which only made his grin widen, positively gleaming with self-satisfaction.

“Goodnight, Moonbeam,” he murmured, stepping away before I could throw the fruit at his head.

. . .

Morning came, I groaned and stretched under the sheets. My eyes were still closed as I burrowed deeper into my pillow. I was still wearing the same moon-silver dress from last night.

The door creaked open without knocking, and Celiane stepped in like she owned the place.

“Good morning, Alessandra.” Her voice was bright. Suspiciously bright. “How was your date?”

I pulled another pillow over my head. “It wasn’t a date!” I screamed into the bedding.

“Mhm. The flowers, the restaurant, the full moonlit walk home, just a casual evening with the man your betrothed to, whom you’ve been pretending to hate for decades.” Celiane mused as she approached.

“We are not!” I protested, sitting up.

“Official?” Celiane supplied, eyes glinting. “That’s funny, because Vaelaric stopped by the kitchens this morning, humming. The staff said he was positively glowing. I haven’t seen him like that since…” She trailed off, “Well, ever.”

I jabbed a finger at her. “You are enjoying this way too much.”

“Of course I am,” Celiane stated, crossing to the dining table, “Do you know how long I’ve had to watch you two orbit each other like lovesick comets?” She asked, rearranging the items on the table, “Do you know how many times I’ve heard I hate him when you meant, ’Please stay?”

“T-th… That’s not!” I sputtered, sitting up quietly, knocking her pillow to the floor.

“Don’t lie, Alessandra,” Celiane said sweetly.

I furrowed my brows and glared at her, “You’ve been talking to him, haven’t you?”

Celiane’s expression was pure innocence. “I would never collude with your betrothed.”

I hurled a pillow at my mother, letting out a long shriek. As the door opened, Vael strolled in like he lived there.

He was balancing a tray loaded with still bread, honeyed figs, cut-up dragon fruit, and a steaming pot of elderflower tea. “Oh, good,” he chirped, setting the tray down on the dining table, “you’re both here. Saves me from repeating myself.” He continued pulling some bowls and plates off my shelves and setting the table.

“There’s no story,” I said sharply. “And stop acting like you live here!” I snapped, turning towards Vael.

“There’s definitely a story,” Celiane countered, a smile tugging at her lips.

Vael leaned against the table, looking far too pleased with himself. “We’re just making it official for the record, but yes, it was a date.”

“Why are you even still here this morning?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

“Stayed over in your old room, at your mother’s place,” Vael said, explaining, adding honey to a cup of tea.

“Why?”

He tilted his head, feigning injury. “I surely couldn’t sleep here, with you after the first date.” Vael stated, “I’m not that easy.” He continued, hand to his chest in mock offense.

I scoffed, folding her arms. “Oh, please, if I told you to, you’d be on me in a second.”

“Mhm,” Vael hummed, taking a sip of tea, “Would you like to test your theory?”

My face went crimson, and Celiane snorted into her tea and started to cough. “Vael!” I gasped, “I-I…” I stammered as he took a slow, calculating step towards me. Celiane patted her chest until she caught her breath, then set her cup down on the saucer.

“Don’t…” I continued, backing away from Vael as he continued to stalk towards me. I snatched up the nearest pillow and flung it at Vael. He caught it one-handed, utterly unbothered, and tossed it onto the chair beside him.

Celiane clasped her hands together with mock solemnity. “Finally.” She murmured.

“See? Even your mother approves.” Vael teased, leaning into my space, pinning me against my bedside wall. He was close enough that I could see the individual flecks of gold in his eyes. His voice dropped just for me. “But, if you keep throwing things at me, I’m going to start taking it as flirting.”

“In your dreams.”

“Every night,” he replied.

“Children,” Celiane interrupted, looking between the two of them, “you are exhausting, and I adore it.” She moved words to the door, “I’ll leave so you can work this out privately.”

Vael winked at her, and I shoved a pillow in his face before slipping from under him and storming to the other side of the room. After Celiane had finally left, I sat at the table, pouring myself tea.

“You could have corrected her.” I scolded.

Vael stepped closer, close enough for the scent of Sandalwood to mix with the steam between them.

“Why would I do that?” He asked, taking my cup and sipping.

I turned to snap at him, and he kissed me. Quick, warm, maddeningly sure of himself. His lips were maddeningly soft. When he pulled back, his grin was infuriating. “See? Definitely official.”

“You’re impossible,” I muttered, retreating to the couch, cursing at the heat creeping into my core.

Vael followed with his tea, settling beside me like he’d been invited. “And yet, you still haven’t kicked me out.”