The garden behind the faculty wing was quiet at dusk, filled with the scent of night-blooming lilies and the rustle of wind through ivy. Evelyn stood at the fountain's edge, watching water slip over the marble like it was trying to forget where it had been.
She knew he was there before he spoke.
Alexander didn't make noise when he walked. But his presence wrapped around her like dusk—inevitable, steady.
"I didn't mean to interrupt," he said quietly.
"You're not," she replied, eyes still on the water.
Silence stretched. Then—
"I'm leaving."
Her gaze snapped to his.
Alexander stood a few feet away, hands folded behind his back, gaze distant. "Tomorrow morning. There's something I need to tend to outside the capital."
"For how long?"
"I don't know."
The answer struck harder than it should have.
She tried to keep her voice even. "This doesn't have anything to do with Damien, does it?"
His jaw tightened slightly. "It has to do with everything."
She waited.
Then he looked at her, truly looked. The kind of gaze that peeled layers away.
"You've spent too long being told what to do, who to care for, what you should feel." His voice was soft. "I don't want to become another name on that list."
"You're not," she said quietly.
"But I could be," he replied. "If I stayed too close. If I pulled you in before you knew what you wanted."
Evelyn turned toward him fully, fingers curling at her side. "You think space will fix this?"
"I think space will give you the choice."
His voice dropped, raw and unguarded. "Because if I stay, Evelyn, I won't be able to hold back anymore. And I won't let Damien or anyone else stand in my way."
The confession hung between them.
She took a step forward, instinctive—but he stepped back.
"I'll return," he promised. "When you know. When you choose."
He reached into his coat, pulling something small from his pocket. Her ribbon. The one she'd lost weeks ago, now clean, pressed, folded neatly between his fingers.
He set it on the fountain's edge.
Then he turned.
And this time, he walked away.
No shadow games. No sharp remarks. Just quiet, deliberate steps.
And Evelyn stood there, heart torn between the warmth he left behind… and the cold ache of his absence.