With a breath of wind and a mischievous grin, Leon leapt from the window, Nova held securely in his arms.
The world blurring past them. Her body taut against him, unprepared, her arms springing round his neck. The wind screamed through her face—cold, wild—its fingers lifting tufts of black hair and slapping her cheeks as they fell through air.
Twin moons cast a silver-blue glow upon them as they fell, their forms silhouetted in light—for a moment frozen in time, it was as if they were flying.
Nova shut her eyes tight, the night air stinging against her skin, breath trapped in the frozen rush of falling.
With a gentle thud, Leon’s boots hit the grass below. His knees bent slightly, cushioning the landing with easy elegance. No shake ran through him as he stood up, still holding her close in his arms.
Nova, still hanging on to him, felt stillness return. Knowing there’d been no crash, only heat and stability, she slowly opened her eyes—only to find him already gazing at her with an infuriatingly teasing smirk.
Nova," Leon growled, eyes glinting golden in the moonlight. "Did you... just close your eyes?"
Nova blinked, then very slowly opened them—realizing, to her embarrassment, that yes, she absolutely had. Her green eyes clashed with his golden ones, and the glint shining there told her the truth: he’d seen. Of course he’d seen.
But she didn’t own up.
"I did not," she said hastily—hastily enough.
Leon furrowed an eyebrow, the look in his eyes playful. "Oh? You, Grandmaster Realm practitioner Nova—sword of the battlefield, fear of war camps—just puckered up her face like a threatened kitten when I leaped out of a window?"
Her face heated before she could bite it back. Damn him.
"Shut up," she grumbled, low and menacing—but not angry. Not even remotely. Flustered, perhaps. Humiliated? A bit. But above all, she was attempting not to grin.
Leon leaned closer, just far enough to feel the heat of his breath against her face. "I’ve watched you stare down berserkers in mid-charge without blinking. But leap out a window with me, and now you’re hanging on like a frightened baby koala?"
Her jaw clenched. "I wasn’t afraid," she snarled, glowering at him from her unstable position in his arms. "I was just... surprised."
"Mm-hmm," he hummed, looking very much unimpressed.
She glared. "Stop staring at me like that."
"Like what?" he asked with a touching innocence, though the grin on his lips betrayed him.
"Like you’re having the time of your life."
Leon grinned. "But I am having the time of my life."
Nova let out a frustrated groan, pulling her hand down her face. "You’re intolerable."
He laughed—full-bodied, low, and much too smug about it. "And yet here you are, still in my arms."
The look she gave him could’ve seared the grass around them—hadn’t he still got hold of her as if she were some swooning medieval lady in a song. Worse still, she was beginning to appreciate exactly how nice it was.
She gave him the hardest side-eye she could from where she sat. "Leon..."
"In case this isn’t obvious—put me down. I’m not a damsel. I have legs, and they function perfectly."
His smirk grew. "Oh, sure, I know your legs function perfectly. I’ve watched them kick a man into a wall."
He laughed, but sensibly didn’t tempt fate. Her voice was relaxed, but the flash in her eyes threatened violence if he took her one step more.
"As you wish, my lady," he added mockingly, although his tone was softened.
Slowly—and with a gentleness she hadn’t anticipated—Leon set her down on the ground. The wet grass yielded beneath her boots, cool and soft on the soles of her feet. She stood immediately, pushing unruly strands of black hair behind her ear. Her hands smoothed the white sweater hem into place and pulled the waistband of black pants into position with a sharp jerk.
Only when she was calm again did she raise her chin and look at him—eyes glinting, face set, mutinous.
Leon stood with his hands loose in his pockets, moonlight outlining silver creases on the folds of his white shirt and highlighting the tousled dark hair. The two moons above cast soft, silver-blue light around him—making him seem half dreamlike, as if something from a dream.
He didn’t reply initially. Only stared at her with that inscrutable, half-lidded smile—the type that spoke more than words.
Nova’s head was cocked, green eyes contracting slightly. "What?"
"Nothing," replied Leon, shaking his head as his mouth went up in a grin. "Merely admiring the view."
She lifted a brow. "You mean the garden, huh?"
He gave her that look, the one that meant absolutely not. "Sure," he said smoothly. "The garden."
Nova didn’t think so for a second—but her lips curled involuntarily. A laugh breath escaped her nose. "Charmer."
"And proud," he said, his grin dying down into something softer. Less smug. More. amused. Almost fond.
He turned his head toward the winding stone path that cut through the estate’s back garden. The silver-blue light filtered through the canopy of swaying branches above, casting shifting shadows on the cobblestones below. Wild grass crept between the cracks, soft and dewy underfoot. The air was rich with the scent of jasmine and old trees, carried by a gentle breeze that stirred Nova’s ponytail behind her.
Leon gestured down the corridor, golden eyes flashing. "Shall we embark on our bold escape? Our date awaits us."
Nova fell into step beside him, smiling as she quoted. "Lead the way, master spy."
He executed a tiny mock bow and began to move forward, his footsteps silent and light—too fluid to be accidental. "You know you just agreed to have a date with me. No take-backs."
She snorted quietly. "If this turns into a catastrophe, I’m holding you completely responsible."
"Oh, don’t fret." He peeked back over his shoulder, smiling. "It definitely will be a catastrophe. But at least it’ll be a good one."
Together they walked side by side through the garden, their steps quiet over the wet grass and weathered stone. The estate they left behind them shrank with every step, the windows of the palace soft golden glows like lanterns far away.
Nova’s pulse pounded a steady drumming under her skin—fast, not from fear, but from something much more deadly.
She was sneaking out of her own manor. In the dark. With a man who made her long to kiss him and punch him in the ribs. It was absurd. Daring. Childish.
And completely thrilling.
They strode quickly through the light of the moonlit courtyard, hunched low among the marble columns and shadowed hedges. The estate was silent but not sleeping. The guards still walked, their torches striking flickering golds upon statues and paths of stone.
Leon would stop every few steps—his senses sharpened, each movement precise—and Nova would hesitate just behind him, close enough that her breath would catch each time he turned his head.
Ahead of them, two guards trudged slowly, uninspiringly on their rounds. Leon relaxed back against the gnarled trunk of an ancient tree, gesturing silently. Nova moved in beside him, pressing her spine against the bark, her shoulder against his.
She could smell him. Feel the heat off his skin. Leather and wind and something darker, more subtle. Her breath caught.
"Stay close," he breathed, voice little more than a whisper above the night air.
"I am close," she hissed back, lips barely moving. "Too damn close."
His smirk was audible in his voice. "Then don’t move. Or they’ll see us."
She narrowed her eyes at him....