The sun dipped lower in the sky, turning the village into a golden painting. The rooftops of Evermore shimmered, the sea glistened like it held secrets too deep to tell, and the wind, though cooler now, carried no storm just whispers of things unsaid.
Lily walked along the path between the village square and the cliffs, her feet light on the grass but her heart heavier than she could explain. A week had passed since she refused the prince's offer. A week of quiet judgment from some, quiet admiration from others.
Most had gone back to their lives. Storms don't last, and neither do people's whispers.
But for Lily, the silence had been louder than the storm.
She hadn't spoken much to Sam. Not because she didn't want to but because something fragile had bloomed between them, and she didn't know how to protect it. Every time their eyes met in passing, it was as though they were holding a secret too sacred to speak aloud.
Tonight, she needed clarity. So she walked toward the sea.
And there he was.
Sitting at the very edge of the cliff, legs dangling over, a carved piece of driftwood in his hands. He was shaping it slowly with a knife something simple, rough probably a gift for one of the children. He always gave his carvings away.
She stood quietly behind him for a moment, the sea wind brushing her face.
"You're going to wear out your shoes, walking to this cliff every day," he said without turning around.
She smiled. "Maybe. Or maybe it's just where I can breathe."
He moved over on the rock, making space for her. She sat beside him.
"What are you carving?" she asked.
"A bird," he said. "Not sure what kind yet. Maybe a heron."
"Why a heron?"
"They stand still. Even when the water is rising. They don't run unless they have to."
She was quiet for a moment. "That sounds lonely."
"Sometimes it is."
She looked at him then. His eyes were tired, a little darker under the lashes, but his hands were steady. There was something about the way he looked out at the water like he was trying to learn from it. Or argue with it.
"Are you angry with me?" she asked suddenly.
He blinked. "Why would I be?"
"Because I said no to the prince. Because it's caused trouble. Because now I don't know what happens next."
He sighed and set the carving down between them. "I'm not angry. I'm just… scared."
Her heart twisted. "Of what?"
"That this doesn't last," he said. "That someday, you'll wish you'd chosen differently."
She turned her whole body to face him. "Do you really think I'm that weak?"
"No," he said quickly. "It's not about weakness. It's about the world. You gave up everything for love, Lily. That sounds like something out of a storybook. But real life is harder than that. What if I can't give you what you need?"
Lily reached for the carving. Her fingers traced the edges, the half-shaped wings.
"You already have," she whispered.
A gull cried in the distance, and the sea shifted beneath the cliffs.
Then she asked, "Would you still want me if I told you I have doubts too?"
He turned toward her.
"Of course. Doubt doesn't scare me. Leaving does."
She looked down at the carving again. "Then let's stay. Here. In this moment. Not talking about tomorrow. Not trying to figure everything out."
Sam gave a small nod. "Just now, then."
They sat in silence for a while. The wind played with her hair. The waves murmured below.
Then a bell rang from the village.
Lily looked up. "What's that?"
"The messenger's returned," Sam said. His voice tensed. "The one from the prince."
Her stomach sank. "So soon?"
Sam stood. "Come on. You don't have to face them alone."
They walked back to the village side by side, not touching, not talking. Just moving together. The path wound between houses, past the well, and into the square where the villagers had gathered.
The messenger stood at the center, tall and composed, dressed in rich green velvet. His expression was calm, but his eyes were cold.
He addressed Lily directly.
"My lady, the prince has received your… reply. He was most disappointed. But he is a man of grace. He offers you one last chance. A second invitation. He believes perhaps you were… pressured. Or frightened. He has sent gifts to ease your concerns."
Two guards stepped forward, each carrying a small chest. When they opened them, gasps spread through the crowd jewels, gold coins, fine fabrics.
Lily stood frozen.
Her parents exchanged uncertain glances. Her mother's lips parted, ready to speak, but then she looked at Lily and closed them again.
All eyes were on her.
Sam, standing just a little behind her, said nothing.
The messenger continued, "If you still refuse, the offer will be withdrawn. And with it… the prince's protection."
That was no empty threat. Everyone knew what that meant. Their village, vulnerable as it was, could be excluded from trade. Forgotten. Punished.
Lily's heart pounded.
And in that moment, she realized something terrifying this wasn't just about love anymore. It wasn't even just about her. The choice she made now could shape the future of Evermore.
She turned toward Sam.
His face was unreadable.
And she felt something within her break.
"I need time," she said finally, her voice steady.
The messenger gave a stiff nod. "You have until sunset tomorrow."
He turned and left, the chests of gold closed again, carried away.
The crowd dispersed slowly, whispers trailing behind.
Lily didn't move. She stared at the spot where the messenger had stood.
Then she whispered, so only Sam could hear:
"I'm not sure I can save both the village and my heart."
Sam didn't answer.
He just looked at her like he already knew what the answer would be....