The princess takes a deep breath, her hair gleaming in the moonlight, and then turns to look at Oleksandr, her eyes sparkling. "This way," she says softly, gesturing to a small path leading towards the woods. He nods, his heart thrumming in his chest. The sound of crickets and the smell of pine wafting over from the trees nearby only add to the sense of anticipation.

Following behind her, he keeps a close watch, his alert eyes scanning their surroundings for any signs of danger. But he can't help but be distracted by her, moving so fluidly and graceful, like a nymph through the night.

"How long have you known of this place?"

"Since I was a little girl," she says, her voice soft and low. "It's my secret place, my sanctuary. My father and the others don't know about it. I come here to be alone, to escape from the pressures of being the only living child of a king." They walk deeper into the woods now, the trees growing denser and denser, the moonlight only barely reaching them through the thick foliage.

"I've been here before. I took the same path while I was hunting a few weeks ago." The princess is silent for a moment, her eyes fixed forward. Then she turns around to look at him, a small, almost guilty smile on her face.

"You have? So you've seen my secret spot, then? I hope you didn't ruin it with your brutish hunting skills," she teases lightly, her voice like the chime of a bell.

"I didn't go that far, don't worry. Your secret is safe." The princess laughs softly, the soft sound filling the air around them like ripples on a lake.

"I'll have to trust you on that, Sir Knight, I'd hate to think I was bringing you to my secret place only to find out you've already been there..." They come to a small clearing, and she stops, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in her eye.

As Oleksandr steps into the clearing, a strange sense of déjà vu washes over him, stirring something deep within his memory. His heart gives a strange, heavy thump as he looks around. The scene before him is eerily familiar: delicate white flowers blanket the ground in every direction, their soft petals creating a sea of pale blossoms. The dew drops on the flowers almost seem to glow under the moon's light, each one catching the faint rays and reflecting them back like stars. He pauses, his heart beating a little faster, as the dream he once had begins to merge with reality, the lines between past and present blurring in the moonlit clearing. The princess turns to him, her smile radiant.

"Do you like it?" She asks softly, her voice carrying a hint of shy anticipation.

"Yeah..." Oleksandr murmurs, his mind still caught in the web of familiarity that wraps around the scene. The clearing, the flowers, the moonlight—all of it tugs at something deep within him, as if he's been here before. He watches as she moves gracefully into the clearing, her blue gown trailing behind her like a wisp of smoke. With a delicate motion, she removes the circlet that holds her veil, letting the diaphanous fabric slip away as her hair cascades down, free and untamed, flowing like a river of midnight. The sight of her, standing there with her hair unbound, bathed in the glow of the moonlight, fills him with a strange sense of wonder and a lingering, almost haunting, familiarity. Her face is so beautiful, her long hair, dark as the deepest night, caught the silver beams of the moon as they danced upon its strands like the glimmer of stars upon a shadowed lake. His eyes couldn't leave her as he watched her move gracefully through the clearing, the flowers beneath her feet seeming to glow even more vividly in her presence. He felt a deep sense of familiarity, mixed with awe and desire. He had seen her like this before... somewhere…

She smiles at him from over her shoulder.

"You see why I come here? It's like something out of a dream."

He nods, his heart fluttering in his chest like a trapped bird. She was a vision, the dream... She moved so gracefully, like she was some kind of angel, a fae from a bygone era. The glow of the stars seemed to caress her skin, almost like it was part of her, an extension of her ethereal aura. He approaches her, standing before her, looking down at her. His voice is thick as he responds, "yes... I think I have strayed into a dream..."

He towers over her, looking down at her in awe. She tilts her head up to look at him, her deep eyes almost luminous as they fix on his face. The sight of her, in nothing but the delicate velvet gown, hair cascading over her shoulders... It is an image that would be seared into his mind forever. Her eyes scan his face, her own neutral and content.

"Is something wrong?" She asks softly. He shakes his head, still in a daze. He can hardly speak, his brain still processing the sight of her.

"No, no," he manages to murmur. "Nothing is wrong... I just..." He trails off, lost for words. He doesn't know how to express the feeling in his chest, the mixture of awe and desire and longing that is threatening to overtake him.

"You just what..?"

He struggles to find the words, his tongue feeling thick and clumsy in his mouth. "I can't... I can't explain it," he finally mutters. "You're just..." He reaches out a trembling hand, his fingers almost touching her cheek… "I've seen you here before, in a dream." He confesses.

"You've seen me... here... in your dreams?" She doesn't shy away from his hand, letting his fingers gently touch her cheek.

"Yes… It was months before I came to these lands, before I ever saw you. I dreamt I was coming through these forests, into this clearing, and I saw you dancing along these flowers in the moonlight." She is silent for a moment, her expression unreadable. She looks at him, her eyes studying his face, as if seeing him in a new light.

"That's incredible," she murmurs, her voice soft like a whisper, "that you would dream of me, long before you knew I even existed... What did you do when you found me dancing here?" He swallows. He obviously can't tell her the full truth.

"I... I don't remember… I watched you, for a long time."

"You don't remember...?"

"No, my lady... I don't recall." She is quiet for a moment, silently studying his face. He can see the disappointment in her eyes at his answer.

"That is a shame," she says finally, her voice almost a whisper. "It would have been interesting, to hear what God had planned for us, that he would show you a vision of us together before we had even met." He looks at her intensely, pausing for a long moment in hesitation.

"The truth is, I do remember," he leans down to whisper, "but I'm afraid it's too improper to speak of." Her breath hitches slightly at his words, her eyes going wide with curiosity. Her voice lowers to a whisper as well, trying to match his lowered tone.

"Improper?" She murmurs, "why would it be improper...?" She sees the desire in his eyes, the hunger that threatens to consume him. Her cheeks flush slightly, a hint of color appearing in them. She stares at him, her eyes locked on his, her own filling with a mixture of trepidation.

"You... you want me..." She whispers, her voice almost hesitant.

"Yes." He whispers, caressing her cheek, running his hand back into her hair. "I cannot deny that I have desired you, for longer than I have known you." She gasps quietly, her chest rising and falling as she takes in his words. Her eyes don't leave his face, drinking in his expression, the desperate need written all over him. She is silent for a moment, and he can see the internal struggle in her, the desire to give in to her own feelings, against the voice of propriety and duty screaming in the back of her mind.

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He stands up straighter, looking away. "But.. It is not right. We... I mustn't act on such desires... I know better." Her expression changes to one of disappointment and sadness, the brief flicker of excitement in her eyes dying quickly. She reaches out, tugging on his arm.

"Please don't pull away," she says, her voice almost pleading. He looks back down at her, his eyes wistful and wide with desire on his otherwise statuesque face. She reaches up to caress his strong jaw gently, brushing his long platinum hair back. He melts into her touch, her fingers soft and delicate against his skin. He closes his eyes, enjoying her gentle caress, her small fingers tracing the sharp lines of his jaw. Her gasp snaps him back to attention, and he opens his eyes in time to see her staring at him with a look of surprise etched across her face.

"What? What is it?"

"Your earring... Where did you get that?" He frowns, confused, suddenly aware of the weight of the fine chain with the ruby charm strung through the hoop in his ear. He had almost forgotten about it, but now the realization washed over him.

"This?" He says, reaching up to touch the earring. He's unsure what to say. She nods. "It... was a gift. From someone I knew... a long time ago." He kneels down to be at eye level with her, pushing his hair back so she can see it better. She leans in closer to inspect the earring, her eyes fixated on the blood-red gemstone of the bead. She's quiet for a moment, her fingertips gently tracing the lines of the setting.

"It's... It's mine." She says softly, her voice almost a whisper.

"What?" Oleksandr asks, searching her face as she studies his earring. "That's not possible... It was given to me long before we met. Far away from here." Her eyes don't leave the earring, her fingers tracing the gemstone with a strange sense of familiarity.

"Impossible," she mutters to herself, "Yet.. I know it. I recognize it… I had worn this bracelet for years, since I was a little girl. My big brother gave it to me, weeks before he was killed. One day, I woke up in my bed and it was lost. I never found it again." He stares at her, listening to her words. The strange feeling he had been having, of deja vu and familiarity, suddenly made so much sense. His mind is racing, trying to process what this all could mean. The princess looks up from the earring, her eyes meeting his.

"How long have you had this?" She asks softly.

“Since March.” Her eyes widen slowly, her face going pale.

"March," she whispers, "That... That coincides with the night my bracelet went missing." She is quiet for a moment, her mind trying to process what this all means. "How did you get it?" Oleksandr shakes his head, sighing as she sits down next to him.

"This... will sound absurd."

"I'm used to hearing absurd things," she says softly. "Say it anyway." He packs his pipe with tobacco carefully, mulling over his thoughts.

"I suppose I must begin with… Thekkur. My brother. My twin, I told you about him... Well, he actually passed away, five years ago. Back in Constantinople. It... destroyed me. But that's a topic for a different time." He sighs, lighting up his pipe, taking a long drag, and exhaling through his nose as he continues. "Since then, I've seen my brother in my dreams a few times. They're so vivid, as if he was there with me, like he never died." She listens intently, her expression serious and sympathetic. Her eyes never leave his, as she takes in the grief in his voice as he speaks of his brother... of his twin. As he continues her face becomes more pensive, her brow furrowing as she tries to make sense of what he is saying. "Well, in the last dream I had of him, he gave me this bracelet as a gift. He tied it onto my earring, and then I woke up... and there it was. It was still there, just as he had left it." Her eyes widen slowly as his story sinks in. Her voice is quiet when she speaks next, a trembling whisper.

"So… your brother gave you this earring… in a dream." She pauses, her mind racing. "And it became… real. Upon waking."

"Precisely." He mumbles, puffing his pipe. "I cannot understand it. I thought I was going mad." She is silent for a moment, her face pensive as she struggles to process the unbelievable truth behind his words.

"This is… it's just… I don't even know what to call it. What to think. It's... beyond anything I could have imagined."

"And now you're telling me this bracelet belonged to you? It's absurd." He looks at her, his face stoic but his eyes slightly pleading. "I never know what to think anymore. I've felt so confused. Like God is trying to tell me something, like Thekkur is trying to tell me something. And all of it, it all leads back... to you." Her eyes widen slightly, her breath hitching in her chest as he speaks.

And all of it, it all leads back to you. She is silent for a moment, the words echoing in her mind, her heart racing. The enormity of it all is too much to bear, and tears start to well up in her eyes. "And, another insane part is... in these dreams, when I dreamt of you specifically, you always whispered to me before I woke up. You'd whisper, 'meet me in Montenegro...' That's why I came here... Because you asked me to." She stares at him, her tears falling slowly, her expression a mixture of disbelief and shock. He reaches over, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Don't cry, my sweet Savushka." The touch of his hand on her face is enough to break her entirely. She lets out a small sob, and tears fall openly from her eyes.

"Savushka," she whispers, her voice quivering. "Not even my father has used that nickname for me in years."

"Don't cry..." He whispers, wrapping an arm around her, pulling her close as he caresses her face. She clings to him, her small frame shaking as she sobs quietly into his chest. She feels safe in his embrace, like she had never known before. For once in her life, she feels a sense of security, a sense of safety.

"I've... I've been so lonely," she murmurs, her voice wavering. "For so long, I've been so lonely..." He pulls her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her, stroking her hair.

"I know what it's like, my Savushka." She nuzzles into him, her petite body fitting perfectly in his lap. She clings to him, her arms around his neck, as he strokes her hair. The sobs die down into sniffling hiccups, as she buries her face into his chest. He holds her like that, in complete silence, for a while. He doesn't need words to say what he's thinking, nor does she. They sit there together, lost in the comfort of each other's embrace, the rest of the world momentarily forgotten. Finally, she lifts her face from his chest, her eyes still glistening with tears. She takes a deep breath, steadying herself, and looks up at him.

"This... is all so strange," she says quietly, her voice still quivering. "I can hardly make sense of it all." His thumb gently glides over her bottom lip.

"It's starting to make perfect sense to me."

"What... what do you mean?" She says, her voice barely above a whisper. He doesn't answer, and he pulls her into a soft, tender kiss. The kiss catches her off guard, and for an instant, she stiffens in his embrace, her breath hitching in surprise. But then, like a dam finally giving way, something inside her shatters, and she surrenders to the flood of emotion. She melts into the kiss, her small hands reaching up to cradle his head, fingers tangling in his platinum hair. There’s a hunger in her movements, a desperate, almost frantic need, as if she has been starved for this very moment all her life.

The kiss deepens, growing more intense with every heartbeat, as she clings to him as though afraid he might disappear. The world around them blurs into nothingness, every thought and sensation narrowing to the feel of his strong arms holding her, the pressure of his lips against hers. Her heart races, pounding so fiercely she wonders if he can feel it too. She’s been denied touch, denied warmth for so long, hidden away like a precious secret. But now, with him, she’s making up for all that lost time, pouring every ounce of longing, of yearning, into the kiss. All she can think of, all she can feel, is him—his strength, his warmth, the overwhelming intensity of this moment.

His tongue brushes against her lips, a gentle request for entry, and she responds without hesitation, parting her lips eagerly to welcome him. Their tongues meet, and the connection sends a jolt of electricity through her, a wave of sensation so intense that a small sound, half-moan, half-sigh, escapes her throat.

She clings to him even more desperately, her fingers tightening in his hair as the kiss deepens. Every fiber of her being seems to awaken to his touch, a warmth spreading through her, gathering in her belly, a heat she’s never known before, a yearning that ignites something primal within her. It’s as if a fire has been lit inside her, one that she can’t and doesn’t want to extinguish. The intensity of the moment consumes her, pulling her deeper into the embrace, her body responding to him with a hunger she didn’t realize she possessed. With a swift, fluid motion, she pulls off his bandana, and his hair spills free, cascading around his face like a golden waterfall. The silky strands slip through her fingers as she runs her hands through them, feeling the cool softness as they trail over his neck and down his back. There’s something intoxicating about the way his hair feels against her skin, a luxurious texture that heightens the intimacy of the moment.

His own hands slide up to rest on her hips, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down her spine. He pulls her closer, their bodies pressed together as if trying to erase the space between them. His kiss mirrors her intensity, equally desperate and full of need, as if he too is driven by a hunger that has long been denied. The world outside their embrace ceases to exist; all that matters is the connection between them, the fierce passion that has ignited, pulling them deeper into each other’s arms. With a tender motion, he gently dips her back, easing her down until she’s resting against the soft bed of flowers. The delicate petals cradle her as he leans over her, his form hovering above like a protective shield.

Their eyes lock for a brief, charged moment before he lowers his lips to hers once more, capturing her in a kiss that’s both passionate and tender. His hand glides up to rest on the supple skin of her neck, his thumb brushing lightly against her pulse, feeling the rapid beat of her heart beneath his touch. The scent of the flowers around them mingles with the warmth of their breath, creating a heady, intoxicating atmosphere that wraps around them both. Each kiss is a sweet caress, a slow exploration as they pour all their emotion into this moment, the world fading away until nothing else exists but the two of them, entwined in the field of flowers under the open sky.