Noctua landed silently. When Clarion slid off her back, a quiet awe fell over the warm fairies. Clarion wanted to sink to her knees in the snow. She wanted to be alone, if only to allow herself to feel the full weight of what she had done. But her subjects needed her. With her shoulders drawn back, she stepped onto the bridge. And when she crossed into Spring, she did not turn around. If she did—if she felt that invisible tether between them snap taut, calling her back to his side—she might just change her mind. But this, she knew, was for the best. One day, she hoped she truly believed that.
