“The West seems so far away, doesn’t it?” Sparrow closes her eyes and breathes in deep, the air perfumed with the delicate scents of rose mingled with jasmine incense and sweet pears, one of the pear trees so close Thierren could reach out and pluck the ripe, lilac fruit.

Just like Thierren wants to reach out and pluck Sparrow. They’ve been on a collision course with each other for some time now, he considers, his feelings for her running much too strong to ever be denied again.

Sparrow’s eyes warm with affection as she looks at him, the purple glitter on her eyes and mouth sparkling in a way that deepens his pulse and heats his lines. “It’s interesting...” she says, glancing at the violet orb above. “The moon’s draw toward focusing on love.” She casts him a knowing smile. “I think being here in the East...where it’s so free...it’s making us both ridiculously bold.”

“I don’t need a moon or a change in place to be drawn to you,” he huskily states, then sets down his glass and gives in fully to the Xishlon moon, taking her into his arms, both of them laughing as they pull each other inside.

Thierren pushes the balcony doors shut, the pulsing outdoor music only amplifying this combustive moment between them. Sparrow reaches up to caress his cheek, and Thierren’s desire for her ignites like wildfire. They draw each other into an embrace, their lips hungrily claiming each other with none of the politeness of their tavern kiss, the two of them lit by the lavender glow of a single Xishlon lamp covered in moon and star cutouts, a violet-bright constellation cast over them both.

“Il’nyylia iv’riel fhir’lion nur...” Thierren murmurs in Uriskal as he presses a breathless kiss to the nape of Sparrow’s neck. My precious lavender flower. My love. My whole heart...

Sparrow’s eyes sheen with tears in response to Thierren’s heartfelt stream of words—words made so much more powerful by his use of her own language.

“Il’nyylia ar’gyn zu’lia, fhir’lion nur...” she returns, voice hitching as she finishes the quote from the famous Uriskal love poem, a poem reserved for one’s great love. My shining gem. My forever love...

My whole heart.

An explosion rocks the world.

Sparrow flinches against Thierren, the lovely moment shattering as the floor beneath them shudders, Sparrow’s meager kitchenware clinking in the cupboards. They draw back from each other, eyes wide, as the rhythm of the music cuts out and muffled shouts go up, Vu Trin alarm horns beginning to bray.