the hall was dimly lit, riders and fliers in their shared rooms. not you though, you were outside in the cold, wandering around the garden that wrapped around the riorson house.

the flowers weren’t fully bloomed yet, but the colors were still bright. you let the tips of your fingers brush against the tall grass, walking down the cement path that lead to a fountain. your gaze drifted up, feeling a presence. it was xaden, leaned against a perfectly sculpted statue.

when you smiled at him, he shook his head disapprovingly. “i can see that your smile is empty,” he spoke, voice firm as always, but with a soft undertone that was only for you. he watched as you tripped over your words—trying to muster up an excuse, sighing as he pushed himself up straight. “trying to force words through gaps in your teeth.”