The courtyard's lanterns flickered as dusk settled, and a hush fell over the deserted stone path. Only two figures remained—Aro and Selene, deep in the hush of shared purpose. The fallen silver petal lay at their feet, abandoned by the morning's accident.
"Someone came for it," Selene whispered. She bent to inspect it, then frowned. It was gone—cleaned up or stolen.
Aro knelt, brushing his lantern's light over the ground. "Instead," he murmured, "we have this." From his cloak he drew a tiny parchment, sealed with the fox crest. The seal glimmered, faintly alive in the lantern light.
Their breath caught as Selene broke the seal. The message read:
"Find me where the fox greets the flame."
Aro's brow knit. "It's a riddle. A location."
As they spoke, their hands brushed while she passed him the note, and the moment stretched—charged, familiar, unspoken. This was more than danger. It was trust.
They moved as one toward the old Lantern Room—an abandoned wing of the school. Dust motes spun in the lantern's halo. On the far wall, an etched fox sigil glowed with latent life. Aro retrieved a spare lantern, lit the wick, and the runes carved around the sigil snapped alight—summer fire in frozen stone.
A low tap sounded again, as if summoned by their presence. Selene's heart hammered; Aro placed a steadying hand over hers. She exhaled.
Before they could draw closer, a sharp voice pierced the silence: "What are you two doing?" Morven stepped from the shadows, his eyes flicking from their lanterns to the sigil.
Selene stood protectively in front of Aro. "Exploring," she said, voice calm but firm. "This message—fox and flame—it led us here."
Morven's lip curled. "Or you're tampering with authority. Lantern Room is forbidden."
A lantern sputtered behind them. A third figure loomed in the far gloom—too dark to see, but undeniably watching. Aro reached for Selene's hand.
Morven snorted and dropped a tarnished crown pin onto the ground. "That beast pin was in the royal messenger's bag this afternoon. Think fast—are you traitors or thieves?"
Selene stared at the crown sigil—echoing the crest of the cruel Crown Prince. Aro's breath tightened.
Suddenly, a fresh tap-tap-tap reverberated through the stone—faster, urgent. The hidden watcher retreated with a crash of footsteps. Morven backed away, startled.
Lantern flames flickered. The carved fox glowed brighter. Selene gripped Aro's hand. "We're not going to run," she whispered.
He nodded. Their breaths mingled—a fuse before the spark.