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Sebastian had to go now.
Elaine would stay here. She'd let Isabella and Charles and Mother interrogate her, let the Warden examine her under the guise of a prince, and she'd play a lying game in secret. And Kadena would mislead the false prince's deceiving crew. And Kieron would run ahead and spread the word; all just exactly as they planned. They all had their part and everything was almost set. It would work. It had to.
(And it would be a long, long time until they met again.)
And Sebastian would go on ahead without her, reawaken the magic of the castle, find that stupid crown and everything would be well.
She had to hope it would be well.
"I suppose this is goodbye," Elaine scarcely registered herself saying, giving this beloved team of hers a forced, worried smile that she reckoned was too hollow to fool either.
Kieron's eyes were glassy behind glasses, his feathers light and soft against her cloak when he bounded forth and squeezed her and Sebastian in some endearing rook-y imitation of a hug, then he shuffled through the door and it was over without much ado. She laughed a little at the hug, waved at his back, then dropped her hands and wiped her eyes. They'd all known Kieron would leave eventually from the very start, after all.
Then it was Sebastian's turn and as he walked stiffly away there was that unbearable fiery itch behind her eyes that started up again and he was leaving—
—Elaine ran, trampling on the young grass till the clap of frantic footsteps softened, then stopped. They stood in front of each other, Sebastian looking like there was more he wanted to say—Warden knew she had more to say—and though she could already tell her eyes were shiny and welling up, there were no tears. Yet.
They both reached for each other, hands: searching, bumping, finding, clasped within each other's, and he squeezed hers comfortingly, running his thumb over and over the back of her hand. The tears teetered.
"Ask me again," she said fiercely, barely able to think or understand herself—everything it was all just an incomprehensible mess—a muffled, blubbering, desperate rush—but Seb would understand. Elaine trusted he would.
His brows furrowed slightly in confusion. "Ask you what?"
"Ask me to dance," she whispered, and saw the exact moment he understood. With his beautiful eyeless sockets widening and a telling inhale, a soft, sharp breath she almost didn't catch, even so close, like this, like now.
She pressed their foreheads together, slipping one hand from between his to cradle his cheek, something precious and something she could possibly never see again.
"Someday. When this is all over, when you–you come back. Some tomorrow," she started, hot large tears spilling over at last blurring her vision over shaky breath.
Then, "Shh, Elaine, it's fine it's fine," he was saying. She blinked her vision into focus to see the slender lines of his face creased in concern in front of her, feel his pale eyelashes tickling her skin, cupping her hand in both of his, cradling it and he kept repeating it over and over, until her hitched, hysteric sobbing and soundless trembles subsided. She felt calmer, though no less desperate.
"Are you feeling better, Elaine? Your highness?"
She sniffled for the last time, and smiled (a watery smile, mind) at him, the nickname bringing a small light back on inside her. "Yes, I'm better now. Thank you, Seb."
"You don't have to," he started to say, gentle concern and worry still expressed, the lightest, lightest blush on his silly features, before she cut him off. "I know, I know, Seb. I wouldn't unless I wanted to."
She closed her eyes, face scrunched up in concentration, trying to embed this moment into her memory. This unremitting warmth and closeness and her hand enclosed in his and his breath on her face.
"Ask me to dance, when this is all over, and I'll say yes."
Elaine! her mother was yelling, distantly. They didn't have much time. She took a step, back the whole of her aching against it.
They looked at each other. Their hands dropped to hang by their sides, unwilling.
"I will," Sebastian said quietly. Then he turned and ran, and her eyes followed him until the reverberating echo of the door slamming finally faded.