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89. Call of the Moon

[MAGNUS]

As I add the final strokes to the canvas, Alistair steps forward, his voice cutting through the quiet air of the gallery. “Lady Celia has arrived,” he informs me in his usual calm tone.

I pause, setting the brush down with care. I step back, my gaze fixed on the painting in front of me, trying to soak in what I’ve just done. It feels strange — almost foreign — to stand here and look at something I’ve created with my own hands after all these years.

A heavy sigh escapes me as I take in the finished piece. It is perfect, almost a replica.

I can already picture Elara’s reaction. She will be pleased. She’ll smile — a smile I’ve rarely seen directed toward me, but one I’ve longed for more than I care to admit. And the thought of that smile, of seeing her light up with joy, stirs something inside me that I’ve kept buried for far too long.

Happiness.

It’s been so long since I’ve dared to pursue it. But now… now it feels like something I’m ready to bet on. Something I’m willing to ri
Priyal Dessai

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