Dreams were cruelties. They were painful reminders of what wasn’t and what would never be. They weren’t memories, or truths, or even hopes. They were reminders of all the things that hadn’t, or couldn’t, come to pass.

If she were to conjure a fiction, it should have been somewhere lavish. A beach, a meadow, a star-soaked sky with the girls’ feet dangling off the cliffs would have been more appropriate. She wished they rested against the cushion of a bed or the comfort of a pillow. Such an intimate occasion deserved the privacy of silks and comforters and gaudy curtains.

Instead, the room in her dream was dark, with the earthy scent of root vegetables. Their backs were pressed into the dirty stones of an all-too-familiar pantry. One small window was cut into the top of the pantry, sunlight shining through the floating specks of dust. They were in the kitchens at Farleigh. It hadn’t been a place she’d hoped to return, but with Amaris, she’d go anywhere.

“I wish you were here,” Nox said quietly, running her fingers through silken, pearly strands of hair. Her heart wanted to swell with its fullness at the girl’s presence, but instead, it squeezed, strangled with the knowledge that Amaris was little more than a phantom. She’d been so desperate to hold her again. Seeing the rippling corners of consciousness that presented themselves only in dreams, she couldn’t bring herself to soak in the joy she’d wanted so badly to feel.

Amaris unraveled herself from the hug to look up into Nox’s face, the violet of her eyes catching against the filtered light. Shadows obscured her lovely features ever so slightly. Her white brows stitched together in the middle with a tinge of confusion as she looked up at her.

“Why are you sad?” she asked.

The question was as light as falling snowflakes. Each word landed in a silvery staccato as she frowned. She continued looking with the kind of innocence that reminded Nox that none of this was real. Amaris was no longer the tender, gentle child who needed protection. She wasn’t a vulnerable asset destined to line the Matron’s pockets. Amaris had become so much more than Nox had ever imagined.

Her dreams had etched a few new details into her mind’s eye, showcasing the bright-pink scars of Amaris’s long-healed wounds, the curve of her hips, and the muscles she’d developed in their years apart. Their reunion in the dungeon hadn’t been long, but Nox clung to every moment, every word, every feature.

When Nox said nothing, Amaris tried again. The frown stayed on her face as she answered Nox’s quiet statement.

“I am here.”