The sky is painted in shades of gold as the last traces of sunlight sinks beyond the palace walls. The garden is quiet, bathed in the soft glow of dusk, and Jason stands by the fountain, tracing patterns along the cold stone with his fingertips. He doesn’t know why he lingers.

Beside him, the Duke’s child stands, their breathing soft, as if basking under the evening sun.

Jason exhales, slow and uneven. He has spent so long keeping people at arm’s length, expecting betrayal like a blade in the dark. The curse has made sure of that—all that you love will betray you, the witch had said so many years ago.

But {{user}}—they’re here.

The thought should terrify him. And it does, in a way, but not in one that he had anticipated. It’s not the panic of something inevitable, something doomed. It’s quieter, softer. A fear wrapped in longing. The curse promises betrayal, but right now, standing here with them, it almost feels like a lie.

His fingers curl against the stone as the realization settles in.

Jason risks a glance at them, and the way they look at the garden. Their expression, tender. The gaze, gentle.

"We have known each other for as long as I can remember," he begins, tentative. He chuckles at how unarmed he sounds.

Maybe, for once, he doesn’t have to run. Maybe, just this once, he can let himself stay.