Lux [h.s]

twelve

Cora was furiously wiping away a mark on the counter when someone cleared their throat.

Her head snapped up, and she froze. She hadn't talked to Harry for the past three days—she'd gone to great lengths to avoid him. She'd asked her aunt to change her turns so that she would never be around at his same time, and she'd hidden in the kitchen whenever she'd heard him come downstairs.

But all her efforts had been futile, because he was now standing in front of her, with his midnight blue coat and too green eyes and pretty, empty smile.

"Can I help you with something?" she asked, hiding her confusion with kindness. She'd supposed he wouldn't want anything to do with her after she'd told him she didn't want to leave with him.

He put a key on the table and she took it, frowning when she recognised it as the one of his room. "I'm leaving, Cora."

For some reason, her heart hurt, and she dropped the key. "Leaving? Why?" She recognised the stupidity of her question only a matter of seconds later. Of course he was leaving. He'd never belonged to Beilyn in the first place. He'd been a passing pleasure, like flowers in spring or cherries in summer: something that was never meant to stay, but that she knew would be there the following year, in the same period.

If only people—or fays—could be held to the same accuracy of nature.

There was nothing that could tell her he'd find his way back to her city and her hostel a year from then, if not the knowledge he'd done so for many years in a row.

It still wasn't enough.

Harry let out a chuckle. "This town was a mere stop for me," he replied, "I still have to take my Fair to many other cities in this land, and even more overseas."

"So you're going now?"

"I am." His lips curved in a little smile. "You look upset, Cora. We'll see each other again, don't you worry."

"How do you know?"

"The stars said so." He leaned over the counter and, before she could understand what was going on, left a kiss on her cheek, so light and feathery that her skin tingled in the moment he whispered into her ear, "It was a pleasure."

Something inside Cora twisted and surrendered at his kind touch; a longing she'd never known before settled into her chest as he put the key in her hand again before turning around and walking to the door.

He paused and sent her a little glance, an unreadable look in his eyes, and then gave her a little nod.

Before she could return it, he was out in the sunlight. Luces was just compassionate enough to offer her one last eyeful of him from the window as he walked away, not to be seen again.

Cora stayed behind the counter with the key in her hand for a long minute after he left, the reality of what had just happened taking a while to settle. When it did, though, and when she realised Harry wouldn't walk into the hostel again, she felt sick.

She dropped the key and ran out of the door, just to discover that he was long gone and hadn't left a trace behind himself.

People were walking around in their coats and cloaks, amicably chatting to one another, exchanging flowers, seeds, or bread as they tried to be heard over the loud exclamations of the vendors. The decorations of the Hazelnut Festival and the Fair were nowhere to be seen, and everything had settled into a mundanity she knew too well.

It was like he'd never been there in the first place. He'd left, quickly and almost painlessly, like a ghost or a dream fading away in the light of dawn. But it was exactly that fast, noncommittal goodbye that made her heart hurt so much.