*Caius**
The marketplace was lively, filled with the scent of salt, fresh fish, and charred spices from the morning grills. Merchants called out their wares, trying to lure in customers with silver-tongued promises.
I was here for supplies—nothing more. We were leaving soon, continuing our journey to the King's land. There was no time for distractions.
And yet, I found myself standing in front of a small stall, my body rigid, my instincts wary.
It wasn't the strange incense burning in the air or the worn wooden sign that caught my attention.
It was the woman sitting behind the table—an old sea witch with clouded eyes and weathered hands, shuffling a deck of ancient-looking cards.
She *knew* who I was.
She hadn't said it, but I could tell. The way her milky gaze settled on me, the way her lips curled in an almost knowing smile.
"You hesitate," she said, her voice a rasp like waves against stone. "You do not wish to know your fate, yet you cannot walk away."
I scowled. "I don't believe in fate."
She let out a soft chuckle, shuffling the cards again. "Ah... but fate believes in *you.*"
I clenched my jaw, ready to leave, but another voice spoke up.
"She's never wrong, you know."
I turned, finding the stall manager watching me with crossed arms. He was a burly man, skin tanned from the sun, his hands scarred from years of fishing. "That old woman? She's been reading fates longer than most of us have been alive. And she's *always* right."
I exhaled slowly, my fingers twitching at my side.
I shouldn't do this.
I *shouldn't* care.
But something in me—some desperate, reckless part—wanted to know.
So I sat down.
The sea witch smiled like she had expected it. "Good."
She spread out the deck before me, the cards lined with intricate gold markings. "Draw three," she instructed.
I hesitated, then reached forward, picking out three cards at random.
She flipped the first one over.
**The Tower.**
Her smile faded. "Ah..."
A pit formed in my stomach. I wasn't an expert in fortune-telling, but I *knew* this card wasn't good.
"The Tower represents great destruction," she murmured. "A collapse of what you know. A life shattered. A fate rewritten."
I said nothing, but my hands curled into fists.
She turned the second card.
**The Lovers.**
I tensed.
The sea witch tilted her head. "A union... but not just one of passion. This is a choice. A sacrifice. Two souls bound in a way neither can escape."
I swallowed. I already *knew* who that card was for.
And I knew, deep down, that I had *already* chosen.
But it was the last card that made the air grow heavy around us.
She flipped it slowly.
**Death.**
I exhaled sharply.
The stall manager cursed under his breath.
The sea witch, however, remained still. "Not an ending," she murmured, studying the card. "A transformation. A new beginning." Her gaze flickered up to meet mine. "But whether you survive it... that is uncertain."
I forced my breathing to steady.
"Be careful, warrior," she continued, her voice turning softer. "Your path is twisted. The past clings to you like a shadow. And if you do not let it go, it will *consume* you."
I stood abruptly, my chair scraping against the wooden planks.
I didn't say a word.
I turned, leaving the stall, my mind a storm of thoughts I couldn't push away.
The Tower. The Lovers. Death.
Destruction. A choice. An ending—or a beginning.
And Eloise.
Always *her.*
I gritted my teeth, my hands shaking as I walked back toward the shore.
Fate believed in me, she had said.
But what if I didn't want the fate I had been given?
———
Eloise's POV**
The sea breeze still lingered in my hair as we left the ocean village behind, the weight of our next destination pressing on my mind. The King's Land. The heart of politics, power, and the place where everything in my story took a turn for the worse.
Caius walked beside me, his usual composed demeanor masking whatever thoughts plagued his mind. We were running low on supplies, so stopping in the nearest trade city before entering the King's Land seemed like the best option. I welcomed the break—especially after everything that had happened between us.
I still couldn't believe he had kissed me. Twice.
Just thinking about it sent my heart into a frenzy. But before I could overanalyze every detail, a loud voice cut through the bustling streets.
"Oi! Watch where you're going, will ya?"
The voice was familiar, unmistakably sharp with an arrogant edge. My heart skipped a beat—not out of fear, but excitement.
I turned toward the commotion and there he was.
Standing in the middle of the busy marketplace, arguing with a merchant over what was clearly his fault, was **Rowan Lysander.** My second favorite character.
Unlike Caius, whose presence was commanding and severe, Rowan was effortlessly charming. Messy auburn hair fell over his sharp green eyes, his grin lopsided even as he argued. His clothes were a mix of practicality and luxury—black leather armor lined with silver, but layered over a deep blue tunic that hinted at wealth.
Where Caius was discipline and restraint, Rowan was chaos and wit.
I couldn't help but smile.
Rowan Lysander, the rogue noble. The thief with a heart of gold.
And he had no idea who I was.
Caius must have sensed my sudden change in mood because his eyes followed my gaze and immediately darkened. "You know him," he said, his tone laced with something I couldn't quite place.
I nodded, unable to hide my excitement. "You could say that."
Rowan finally ended his argument with the merchant—likely by charming his way out of paying—and turned to leave, only to stop in his tracks when he saw me. His eyes flicked from my face to Caius, then back again.
"Well now," he drawled, crossing his arms with a smirk. "What do we have here?"
Caius sighed beside me, already looking irritated. "This is a waste of time."
But I ignored him. Because for the first time in a long time, I felt something familiar—something I hadn't realized I missed.
Excitement.
I had just reunited with another piece of my story. And knowing Rowan, things were about to get much more complicated.