The stars didn't shine quite so bright that night when she returned to the academy. As the carriage rattled, Dylan sketched on a piece of paper, scrunching her eyes deep in concentration. Her charcoal glided across the paper like it was muscle memory. Before she knew it, she had sketched the man from the bakery.

Dylan always had a knack for art. When she was younger, she made homemade paints out of weeds or flowers she found outside. She painted on anything and with anything she could get her hands on.

"Are we back yet?" Dylan asked, leaning out of the carriage window.

"Milady, please don't lean out like that!" scolded Jessie.

Dylan closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of the cold wind sweeping over her. "Why?" she asked. "I feel free."

She opened her eyes, admiring the passing scenery. The academy was truly beautiful even in the darkness. Dylan rather liked the night. The sweet smell of rain washed trees and the sky freckled with stars had always been beautiful to her.

The darkness cloaked her imperfections and the enchanting glow of the moon allowed her to see the world faintly. Only the parts she wanted to see, of course. Dylan allowed the parts of the world she hated to dissolve into the darkness of the night. The world was prettier that way.

"Milady," Mina said, eyeing the drawing in Dylan's hand. "Who was that man at the bakery?"

Dylan took a deep breath and plopped back down in her seat. "He looks like someone I used to know," she said, holding up the drawing. "Someone I once loved."

Soon the carriage turned into the academy gates. As Dylan descended the carriage steps, she caught a glimpse of the leaves of the big oak tree fluttering slightly in the nighttime wind.

"I'll be right back," she said, clutching Caspian's book tightly against her chest.

"Where are you going?" Jessie asked with a worried expression. "You shouldn't walk around at night without a guard."

"Don't worry," she replied as she turned toward the tree. "I won't be long, Jessie. I just want to check something."

Dylan giggled slightly as she spotted Caspian dozing off underneath the tree. Caspian always looked tired, but the novel never mentioned why. His chest rose and lowered with steady breaths as she approached him. His dark hair and dark lashes looked remarkably ethereal in the moonlight.

'You're too handsome for your own good.'

She kneeled beside him, gently stroking his soft dark hair. "How troublesome," she muttered to herself. The sound of his breathing was oddly comforting.

His long eyelashes fluttered open slowly. "Is this really happening?" he whispered.

Dylan blinked at him. "What?"

"You look so real," he said. "I want so badly for this to be real."

'Does he think he's dreaming?'

"This is real," Dylan spoke in a whisper as she poked his cheek. "Wake up, I need to ask you something."

He sat up, staring at her with tired eyes. "You mean I'm not dreaming?" he asked.

"Do I appear in your dreams?"

He took a tight breath. "I normally have bad dreams that keep me up," he whispered. "But whenever I dream of you, I sleep peacefully."

Dylan's heart was starting to flutter. "Here," she said, desperately trying to change the topic. "I annotated the book just like you asked me to."

She reached out to hand it to him, but instead of grabbing the book, his fingers wrapped around her wrist. He smiled softly as he pulled her into his arms, his hand gently caressing her back. His close proximity sent her heart racing.

"Thank you," he whispered. Something about the way Caspian was smiling up at her suggested he was anticipating a good night kiss.

"Do me a favour?" she asked, resting her head against his shoulder.

"What do you need, Princess?"

"I need you to find this man for me," she explained, pulling away from his embrace and lifting up the picture she drew in the carriage. "Since I annotated the book for you, you'll do this for me, right?"

His eyes flashed angrily. "A man?" he echoed.

"It's not like that, Cas. He just looks like someone important to me, so I want to know if they're related."

Reaching out for her, he pulled her on top of him. "Okay," he whispered.

Badump! Dylan looked down at him, her brown eyes wide with surprise. "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to make you fall in love with me," he replied, running a gentle hand through her hair.

Badump! Badump!

"...lan!"

"Lady Dylan!"

Finally, she pulled away at the sound of someone calling her name. "I need to go," she said, standing up. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Dylan's face was bright red as she walked away.

***

"Dylan!" Grisa exclaimed and flung herself into Dylan's arms. She appeared at Dylan's door in the morning like she always did. "I'm so happy you're back," she said.

Grisa was like a puppy—wagging her tail and waiting to be praised. A slight smile played at Dylan's lips as she awkwardly wrapped her arms around her friend.

"Do you feel better?" Grisa asked, pulling away from the embrace. "You look a lot healthier!"

"Yes, thank you for your concern."

Grisa smiled sweetly, a tiny dimple dancing at the corner of her full lips. "Good," she said, "I've been so lonely without you. I'm glad you're finally back."

"Thank you, how have you—"

"Oi," an eerily familiar voice called, "I came to remind you we have training after classes today."

Axil was leaning against the hallway wall, his arms folded across his broad chest. He was watching her, his expression a blend of hatred and disgust. Dylan took two steps back, shuddering in disgust and fear at the sight of her brother.

Grisa stepped protectively in front of Dylan. "You can go now," she said.

"Ha, you're like an annoying bug." His words were forced through clenched teeth. "Why are you always swarming around my sister?"

"You said what you came to say," she said dryly. "Leave. There's no reason for you to stay around her any longer than needed."

"Gris," Dylan interrupted, grabbing her arm. "Let's just go to class."

He caught her arm as she passed him, bringing her to an abrupt halt. "Don't think you can get out of this," he said sharply. "You will come to club practice like father told you to."

She twisted her arm free. "Touch me again and you'll regret it, brother."

His smile was wry and his eyes mocked her. "What is a vulgar bitch like you going to do?" he asked.

"I'm not the one you should be worried about," she said, the hint of a self-satisfied smirk playing across her lips. "Brother has more enemies than he thinks."