Felix's eyes opened to a gentle wash of early morning sunlight across his face, the barest kiss of warmth on his skin. Like waking from a long dream, his sense of the world slowly pieced itself together as his eyes roamed the room. Soft pillows beneath his head, a warm blanket across his body, wood panels over his head... his face twisted in confusion. The forest was the last thing he remembered.

Weakness pushed against his limbs as he fought to lift himself up. Each movement strained every part of him, and his muscles burned like they were being ripped apart. More of his memories trickled in—the darkness, the feel of cold fingers in his wound pulling him apart at the seams. Or was that a dream? It was hazy, like the fire that broke through the darkness, like the vision of a girl calling his name, begging with him to wait. He promised he would, but he promised many things. Or was that a dream as well?

Eventually, he gave up the effort and rolled over with a sigh. The breath caught in his throat, however, the moment his gaze settled on Aiko's sleeping face mere inches from his own.

Her warm breath tickled his nose, lips parted ever so slightly. Wild mahogany curls splayed around her head, which was propped up against her arms. A thin blanket was draped over her shoulders and he assumed she had been there for quite some time. She was seated in a chair at his bedside, leaning over the bed and sleeping soundly. Peacefully. A stray curl slipped from the rest and fell in her eyes. He pried his hand out from under the blankets and tucked the curl behind her ear again. Her skin was warm beneath his fingertips, but not unbearably so. It no longer bore that burning heat of the Core's flame.

"Aiko," he whispered, half in wonder and half in disbelief as he brushed his thumb across her cheek. Muddy fog clouded his mind, so thick that he could barely scrape together a coherent thought. Maybe she too was nothing more than a dream.

With a soft groan, she stirred, cupping his hand against her cheek with hers. The cold metal of her signet ring pressed against his bony fingers and he winced at the sensation. Her eyes fluttered open, their usual pale brown turned to a brilliant gold in the sunlight. The moment they landed on his face, a tiny smile curled her lips and her cheeks flushed. "Long time no—"

He shoved himself upright and scooped her into his arms, breathing in her scent of cinnamon and folding into the warmth of her body against his. Tears pricked his eyes, but he blinked them away and buried his face in the crook of her neck. Her curls were soft as he threaded his fingers through them. No, she wasn't a dream. She was the real Aiko. His throat tightened and it took several tries before he could finally force the words out from the tip of his tongue.

"I'm sorry."

As her arms slid around him, he felt her fingers curl into his tunic. She nuzzled into his embrace with a contented sigh. "Not the greeting I was expecting, to be honest. You have nothing to be sorry for."

"No." He pulled away and held her at arm's length, holding her gaze. "I'm sorry for the things I said. I wasn't being fair to you."

She blinked, pure and utter bewilderment shimmering in her eyes. "Are you talking about before...?" With a snort, she reached for his hand again. "Felix, that was forever ago. I forgot about it, but thank you."

"But I was—" He stopped suddenly, staring at her and his hand on her shoulder, clasped in her own. A phantom chill settled in his shoulder as he turned to her other side. He was certain he was holding her in both arms, certain he could feel her beneath both hands, but in fact his gaze landed on nothing at all from his left side. Hollow dread dropped like a heavy stone to the pit of his stomach. "Aiko," it came out as barely more than a whisper this time. "Why don't you explain what happened?"

"Your arm?"

Unable to speak, he simply nodded. Nausea made his foggy head spin. Maybe it was a dream after all. The arm he had injured, the one that had failed to heal properly and had gone mostly numb, was completely gone.

Aiko plucked his hand—the one he did have—from her shoulder as she made a face, sucking in a breath through clenched teeth. "You know your mother was a madwoman right?"

Again, he nodded. Maybe if he stared long and hard enough at his phantom limb, it would reappear and Aiko would laugh it off as a very elaborate joke.

"Felix." Her fingers slid between his and he forced himself to meet her eyes. There was heavy sadness behind her gaze, a pity he wasn't used to seeing in the face of another—especially not her. No one else ever looked at him with such gentleness and warmth, even when he was drowning beneath the waves of panic.

"It's going to be okay," she said. "You're safe."

Slowly, he sank back against the bed, unable to remember when he had sat up on his knees in the first place. The feel of her hand in his grounded him, and he clung to that anchor through the tumultuous storm of his whirling thoughts. "Okay," he murmured. "I trust you."

Once he was settled against the pillows, she climbed up onto the bed and snuggled up beside him with her head resting on his chest. When they were both comfortable, she recounted her tale starting from his capture and ending with the journey back to Zehra's cabin and how they had nursed him back to health while he slept. It had only been a few short days, and she giggled to herself as she made reference to a "surprise" being prepared for him.

"You'll see," was all she said when he asked. "A good storyteller knows how to build suspense, remember?"

He did remember. Of course he remembered. Their chance encounters in the city, their secret visit to the castle's depths, their dance at the ball, their game in the forgotten stairwell, the burned portrait of the phoenix princess—he remembered it all. Dinah's involvement seemed distant and small, a bad dream that he had woken from and soon dismissed. His mind reeled at the thought that, all this time, her magic had come from Furvus's long lost Zephyr Core, or that she traded the life of her only child in exchange for power. Her selfishness cost him his arm, but it could have cost him much more.

Sighing, he rested his head atop Aiko's, tracing small, soothing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. "I really am sorry for the things I said. Back in the forest."

"Again with this?" She sat up, a pouting frown on her lips and a frustrated wrinkle between her brows. "I told you already, you don't have to apologize. I moved on. I know you were upset."

"That doesn't make it okay." He eased himself upright. The emptiness in his left side ached and yet somehow, at the same time, he felt nothing there at all. "I don't remember the night I was taken very clearly, or much of what happened after that at all, but I remember being afraid of leaving things that way."

The edges of her frown lessened as she took in his words. Instead of refuting him again, she looked away, untamed hair hanging in her face. For once, she had no braids to hold back her curls, no gold trinkets. She wasn't dressed in her usual reds either, and again it made her much smaller and vulnerable. And yet, she had been through the unspeakable to rescue him despite what happened. She had given up a piece of herself in exchange for his life. It cut his heart and his eyes welled over with tears once more. This time, he didn't blink them away.

"Aiko." Hesitantly, he cupped her face again, tilting it back toward him. He smiled shakily, though he feared he looked like a tear-stained mess—a dirty, worn blade, an assassin who didn't deserve the love she so freely gave. In contrast, she was the sun, radiant and beautiful, a light that he couldn't help but be drawn to. She was more than a pawn, a game, a token to be traded in exchange for his freedom from his blades. She was more than just a queen, a curse, a god reborn.

She was Aiko, his beloved, the flame that chased away the darkness in his heart, the warmth that thawed the ice in his bones.

"I love you," he said. He searched her face as he continued hesitantly, "I'd like to be yours, if you'll have me."

She stared at him in dumbfounded silence, eyes wide and brimming with tears. Her lips quivered and a strained, hiccuping sob tore from her throat before she flung her arms around his neck. Hesitantly, almost mechanically, he rested his arm around her waist, heat crawling up his neck. For a long moment, she couldn't get any words out and simply cried into his chest. When the front of his tunic was practically soaked through and her eyes were thoroughly red and puffy from crying, she finally pushed upright and met his gaze again.

"Of course," she choked out with an equally awkward smile. "I love you, too." Then she paused, her hands skimming his jaw. Uncertainty darkened her eyes. "Can I kiss you this time?"

He chuckled, already leaning in so that his nose brushed hers, their lips a mere breath apart. "You may," he whispered.

She didn't wait to ask twice before she pressed her lips to his, soft but no less fervent. When he kissed her, nothing else mattered and the world was finally right.

I ended up finishing this chapter and the epilogue in a sudden burst of energy. I wrote both of them late at night in a puddle of my tears. Please enjoy and thank you so much for reading!