Brew 21

That evening, Seraphina sat alone on the edge of the guest bed, eyes fixed on the forest beyond the window. Moonlight spilled across the trees. She could almost see the shapes of the leaves dancing in the breeze.

Blaise had already retired for the night, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

But sleep eluded her.

She continued to toss and turn, struggling to get comfortable as she played back to earlier in the day. 

That letter.

Her mind kept returning to the envelope Mama had handed Blaise—the one he’d tucked into his jacket pocket with a secretive smile.

Was it from Aria?
If so, how had Mama gotten it? Fae didn’t interact with humans so freely.

Her thoughts circled endlessly. Rook sat nearby, eyes narrowing as he watched her chew her lip and stare into the night. He recognized the signs. Seraphina was scheming.

“I need a drink,” she announced, throwing her legs off the side of the bed. She hurried downstairs, giggling like a naughty schoolgirl who was skipping her lesson. Rook followed reluctantly, sighing.

In the kitchen, she grabbed a glass and filled it from the pitcher. “Want some?” she offered absently.

“I’m fine,” Rook replied, his gaze drifting toward Blaise’s jacket hanging by the door. His ears flattened, this is what Seraphina was actually after.

Seraphina followed his stare, setting down her glass as she walked over to the jacket.

The letter.

Should she? Morally, it was wrong to go snooping in another’s personal belongings. However, for her own heart, she needed to know.

Rook’s voice came firm and sharp. “Now, mistress. While reading that letter would cure your curiosity, it’s an invasion of pr—”

He stopped mid-sentence.

The rustle of paper answered him.

“And you’re opening it,” he sighed, closing his eyes, bowing his head in defeat. He felt as if he failed to stop her curiosity and now his mistress will pay the price for it.

The seal on the envelope was already broken. Blaise had already read it.

Seraphina unfolded the letter with trembling hands. Her heart pounded as she began to read.

Darling Blaise,

I never thought I would write this. Not because I didn’t want to—but because I never knew how.

After the incident in the village, I was angry. Not only at you, but at myself. There are things about fae that you still do not understand... things you may never understand. Perhaps that’s for the best.

When I ran, it wasn’t from you. It was from fear—fear of being seen and judged, as my people once were.

The forest has always been my sanctuary. Long before the witch hunts, before even the Aetheralights.

One day, I became braver. I ventured to the forest’s edge and saw a young man gathering every flower, herb, and weed he could find. I watched you from afar. I watched as you grew. I remember your 20th birthday—the day you sat alone by the fence, mourning your mother, a cup of tea beside you for her. That day, I decided I had to meet you.

But every time I reached the fence, I turned back. I was afraid.

Then the fairies brought me your acceptance letter. It was meant as a prank. For me, it was fate.

When you entered the clearing that day, I knew how I felt. I cannot thank you enough for every tea party we shared. Every laugh. Every touch. I will remember them all.

But the day you brought me to the village... when they stared at me... I saw how different our worlds are. Aethera is not yet ready. I am not ready.

There will come a time when fae, humans, and wizards can walk together. When that day comes, I still don’t know if I’ll be ready to leave my forest. But I will take small steps. Every day, one step further from the fence. One step closer to the village.

I want my world to grow. I want to see more. And maybe, someday, to walk beside you—without the cloak.

I don’t expect you to wait for me. Or even to feel the same.

But if I take that final step out of the forest..., will you reach your hand out to me again?

Tears rolled down Seraphina’s cheeks. She wiped them away quickly, trying to steady her breath and keep a calm head.

The letter was not what she’d expected. No resentment. No finality.

Yet there was…

Hope.

Rook climbed onto the table beside her, for once he had no words. Having read the letter over her shoulder, even he became emotional from Aria’s words.

“I have to go to the forest,” Seraphina whispered. Her voice trembled—not from fear but resolve.

Rook frowned. “Mistress, this isn’t wise—”

But Seraphina was already pulling on her coat, her face showing a sense of determination.

“She’s waiting, Rook,” she said, throwing open the door. “And I’m not waiting for another letter.”

She stepped into the moonlight, toward the trees.

Toward Aria.