The wooden door to Joshua's room creaked open slowly. A pale shaft of moonlight spilled through the crack, catching the hem of a white sleeping dress. Tiffany stepped inside, closing the door gently behind her. The shadows clung to her figure as she approached the bed, where Joshua lay sound asleep, his chest rising and falling rhythmically under the covers.
In her hand, she held a small purple vial, the potion she had purchased.
Elsewhere in the castle, Blanchette lay buried beneath her warm blankets, eyes wide open despite the silence of the night. Her mind was spinning.
"Maybe I was too harsh on Joshua," she thought, guilt pressing down on her heart. "I'll apologize to him first thing in the morning."
Her eyes fluttered closed, sleep finally taking her.
Back in Joshua's room, Tiffany slipped beneath the covers, carefully inching toward him. She hesitated before brushing her fingers across his cheek.
Joshua stirred, blinking groggily as his gaze adjusted in the dark. "Tiffany...?" he whispered, confused and half-dreaming.
"Drink this, Joshua," she murmured, holding the potion to his lips with trembling hands.
His brow furrowed but before the bottle reached his mouth, Tiffany froze. Her fingers shook. A second later, she threw the vial to the floor. The glass shattered.
"I can't..." she whispered, her voice cracking. "I don't want to force you... not like this."
She backed away, curling up at the edge of the bed, hugging her knees to her chest. The blanket fell away, revealing the soft silk of her dress under the moonlight. Her hair flowed over her shoulders, black as a raven's wing, and her eyes shimmered with shame.
Joshua sat up, blinking at the broken glass on the floor, then at her. She was going to use a potion to make me want her, he thought. But now... she wasn't hiding anything. She looked exposed, fragile, and painfully human.
He looked at her again, her delicate frame, the quiet sadness in her eyes, the sincerity in her guilt.
"Tiffany," he said gently, sliding closer, "You didn't have to do all that."
She turned toward him. "But I knew you wouldn't want me unless I made you... and I wanted... to be close to someone, just once. Even if it wasn't real."
Joshua paused. He was still hurt, confused, but he saw something in her, a raw longing that mirrored something inside him. He touched her hand.
"You don't need to force love," he said. "But if you need comfort... I'm here."
She met his gaze. And for a moment, their pain and loneliness met in the quiet space between them.
They leaned into each other, slowly, naturally. No potion. No rush. Just silence and breath and trembling fingers. Their lips touched, not out of lust, but out of need. Of longing. Of understanding.
Clothes were shed with care. They held each other like fragile glass, tender, gentle. When their bodies met, it was slow, unsure, and emotional. Tiffany winced slightly, and Joshua stopped, asking, "Are you okay?"
"Yes," she whispered. "Just... go slow."
He did.
No words followed, only the rhythm of their breaths and the quiet whisper of skin against skin. It wasn't perfect. It wasn't fairy tale love. But it was real, and it was theirs, if only for that moment.
The Next Morning
Joshua sat at the edge of his bed. The sheets were stained, his mind heavy. Tiffany had already left, giving him a kiss on the lips before slipping away with a small smile.
"I guess she was a virgin too," he murmured, staring at the mark they left behind.
Then the door slammed open.
"Joshua, I wanted to say sorry for..." Blanchette's voice stopped. Her eyes locked onto the bed, the sheets, the blood.
Her expression cracked. "Joshua... what have you done?"
"I'm sorry," Joshua said quickly, standing up. "I couldn't stop mys..."
"NO! NO! NO! YOU DIDN'T!" she screamed, her voice breaking as tears poured down her cheeks. "YOU PIECE OF SHIT!"
She turned and bolted from the room.
Later
Tiffany walked into the sunlight of the castle garden, dressed in clean clothes. She sipped a glass of juice and leaned back in her chair.
"I know it wasn't love," she said softly, "but at least... he was my first. And I was his."
She closed her eyes and let the sun warm her face.
In the Hall
Blanchette moved like a ghost, her expression lifeless. She didn't even notice Merlin until the girl stopped her in the hallway.
"Blanchette? Hey, are you okay...?"
But Blanchette walked past without a word.
Merlin blinked. What the hell happened...?
Then she turned and walked toward Joshua's room.
Why did he do it? Blanchette's thoughts ran wild. Was I not enough? Did I push him away? Was it because of the garden?
Her fingers curled into fists. No... no, I know whose fault this is.
Her eyes glowed a chilling blue. Her sorrow twisted into fury.
"I'm going to kill that witch."
In Joshua's Room
Merlin stepped inside and immediately saw the stained bed, the shattered potion bottle.
Joshua sat there, face buried in his hands.
"Joshua... how could you do this to Blanchette?"
"I... I didn't mean to. Tiffany snuck into my room, and I... I was weak," he whispered. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." His voice broke. Tears streamed down his cheeks.
Merlin walked over and pulled him into a quiet, comforting hug.
In the Garden
Tiffany took another sip of juice when a voice cut through the air like lightning.
"HEY, WHORE!!"
Tiffany raised an eyebrow. "Oh, if it isn't the princess. What's with the angry face, little... "
A blue blur slammed into her jaw. Blanchette's punch sent Tiffany flying from the chair and crashing into a bush.
Tiffany stood up, blood dripping from her lip. Her golden eyes lit up in fury.
"You might be the princess," she growled, "but you're going to pay for that."
She slipped into her witch stance, magic curling around her fingers.
Blanchette took her stance too, eyes blazing blue, muscles tense.
Neither spoke. Their emotions would speak for them now.