"Adam!" a student council member called. "We need help with the inner courtyard tents!"
He exhaled, trying to forget about the principle for now before jogging towards the sound.
Students were already splitting into task groups. Some hauling luggage toward the main hall. Others unfolding tent frames. Club leaders barking instructions. Laughter mixing with mild chaos.
The castle loomed behind them, stone walls rising above courtyards and banners fluttering lightly in the breeze.
Everyone shifted into busy mode.
And Adam, confusion and hunger both simmering beneath his skin, grabbed a tent pole and got to work.
***
By the time the sky began to soften from bright afternoon glare into the richer hues of early evening, the castle had transformed.
Extension cords ran like veins across stone pathways. Speakers perched discreetly along archways. Orange and purple lights were fastened to iron sconces that had once held torches. Cobweb decorations clung to statues of long forgotten kings. Paper lanterns shaped like pumpkins swayed gently from balcony railings.
The place looked less like a relic of medieval warfare and more like an ancient monarch had decided to host the most dramatic Halloween party in history.
Adam stood in the center of the inner courtyard, hands braced on his knees, chest rising and falling as if he had just run a marathon. Students bustled around him carrying last minute boxes of props and food trays. A group from the tech club tested the sound system, bass humming low enough to vibrate through the stone underfoot.
He straightened slowly and rolled his shoulders.
Exhaustion clung to him like a second shirt. Not the satisfying kind that came from pushing himself to the limit, but the dull, heavy kind that seeped into bone.
The castle itself loomed around them in full, unapologetic grandeur.
Massive outer walls of pale gray stone encircled the island's highest point, thick enough to withstand centuries of siege. Watchtowers rose at each corner, narrow slit windows carved into them like vigilant eyes. Ivy crawled along certain sections, softening the edges of something built for defense rather than beauty.
The entrance gate had been reinforced with modern hinges but still retained its original iron studs. Beyond it stretched the expansive inner courtyard, large enough to house tents, booths, and still leave room for movement. Stone arches lined the perimeter, leading into corridors that branched toward sleeping quarters, storage rooms, libraries, and halls whose original purposes had long since been forgotten.
The throne room sat deeper within the structure, cavernous and grand, its ceiling arched high overhead with ribbed stone beams. Faded banners bearing crests of a dynasty no one remembered hung between tall stained glass windows. The throne itself, carved from dark oak and reinforced with iron, sat on a raised platform that commanded attention even empty.
Above all of it, multiple levels of chambers stacked upward, windows peering out toward the lake in every direction.
It was the kind of place that made you lower your voice instinctively.
Adam scanned the courtyard and finally spotted Bryce near one of the light rigs, arguing animatedly with a member of the drama club.
He made his way over.
Bryce turned at the last second and nearly collided with him. "You look like you've been through war."
Adam let out a tired laugh. "I have. Tent poles are my enemy."
Bryce's grin broke through his own exhaustion. "And yet you survive."
They clasped hands briefly, a quick pull in and shoulder bump that spoke of their familiarity. No hesitation. No awkwardness. Just ease.
"You good?" Bryce asked, eyes scanning Adam's face more carefully now.
"Define good."
Bryce snorted. "You're dramatic. We literally just carried stuff."
"You carried stuff. I carried stuff while fighting for my life internally."
"That sounds like a you problem."
Adam smirked. "You're a terrible friend."
"And yet I'm still your favorite."
"Imma tell Aiva you're into me now." Adam teased
"Well, that's gay" Bryce retorted laughing
Their laughter came easy, overlapping and unforced. The kind of laughter built from shared and unspoken understanding.
"Room situation?" Adam asked after a moment.
Bryce's expression shifted to smug satisfaction. "Handled."
"Oh?"
"One of the best rooms in the castle," Bryce declared. "In my professional opinion."
"You have no credentials."
"I have taste."
Bryce leaned closer conspiratorially. "Your stuff's already there. Mine too. Top floor, west wing corridor. Third door past the tapestry with the creepy deer."
Adam blinked. "There's a creepy deer?"
"You'll know it when you see it."
Bryce clapped him on the shoulder. "I've got to head to the dungeons. We turned them into the makeshift cafeteria. If I don't supervise, someone's going to burn medieval architecture with a portable stove."
"That would definitely be a headline."
Bryce started walking backward. "Don't get lost."
Adam pointed at himself. "Me? Lost? Never."
Bryce gave him a look.
Then disappeared through one of the stone archways.
Adam made his way upstairs, boots echoing softly against worn stone steps that spiraled upward. Tapestries lined sections of the walls, their colors muted by time. Some depicted hunts. Others battles. One indeed featured a stag with antlers so unnaturally wide it bordered on unsettling.
"Creepy deer," Adam muttered.
Third door past it.
He pushed it open.
And stopped.
The room had clearly once belonged to someone important. The ceiling arched slightly overhead, delicate carvings etched into the wooden beams. A canopy bed stood near the far wall, draped in light fabric that had been cleaned and refreshed for their stay. A small chandelier hung above, rewired discreetly for modern electricity.
Tall windows overlooked the lake, framed by heavy curtains tied back neatly. A vintage vanity table sat near one corner, mirror polished to clarity. Rugs softened the stone floor, deep reds and golds woven into intricate patterns.
It felt like stepping into a medieval princess's chamber that had politely agreed to host teenagers for a week.
Adam found his duffel on one of the beds and let out a low whistle.
He tried, unsuccessfully, not to picture Bryce in a flowing gown, dramatically fainting onto the mattress.
He snorted.
The view, however, wiped the smile from his face in a different way.
The lake stretched endlessly beyond the window, reflecting the sinking sun in molten streaks of orange and pink. The forest bordering the shore glowed in warm light, shadows stretching long between trees.
A knock sounded at the door before he could get too comfortable.
Aiva stepped in without waiting.
"Well," she said, eyes sweeping the room. "Look at you."
Adam spread his arms. "Royalty."
She walked further in, inspecting with approval. "You got lucky."
"I'm aware."
She tilted her head, lips curving. "I'll be borrowing this privilege from time to time."
Adam raised an eyebrow.
"Oh," he said slowly. "For the view?"
"For the view," she echoed innocently.
They both burst into quiet laughter.
"Just remember to knock first," she added. "I don't need trauma."
"I'll consider it."
She gave him a quick, playful salute before heading back out, undoubtedly toward Bryce.
Adam began unpacking properly, setting clothes into drawers, placing toiletries on the vanity. He left the windows open, letting cool air drift in.
That was when he heard it.
A faint scuff.
Not from below.
From above.
His head tilted slightly.
It wasn't a bird. Too deliberate. Too controlled.
Whatever it was, it moved with intention.
He stepped closer to the window and leaned out subtly, eyes scanning the roofline.
And found her.
Luna sat tucked along the slanted stone just above the window's reach, legs drawn up loosely, gaze fixed on the horizon. The wind lifted strands of her shorter hair gently. The fading sun painted her skin in warm gold, softening the sharp lines she usually carried like armor.
For a second, Adam forgot to breathe.
She spoke without looking at him.
"Are you going to stand there staring like a creep, or are you coming up?"
He didn't remember climbing.
One moment he was at the window, the next he was seated beside her on the warm stone roof.
They didn't talk immediately.
The sky shifted in gradients, orange melting into rose, then into deeper shades of violet. The lake mirrored it all, rippling gently.
"It's kind of insane how big this place is," Adam murmured eventually.
"Shut up," she said softly. "Let it breathe."
He smiled faintly and obeyed.
Their shoulders nearly touched.
Then did.
Then didn't.
Then did again.
Subtle.
Her arm brushed his once. She didn't move it away immediately. When she did, it was almost accidental.
She leaned slightly closer when the breeze picked up, just enough that their warmth mingled.
Adam noticed everything.
He said nothing.
The moment stretched comfortably between them, private despite the dozens of students below.
At one point he glanced sideways. The sun caught in her grey eyes, turning them almost silver.
"You look different," he said quietly.
She narrowed her gaze at him. "Don't."
"I meant the hair."
She looked forward again. "It was getting annoying."
He nodded.
They fell back into silence.
Peaceful.
Uncomplicated.
For once.
Eventually the light faded enough that the courtyard below flickered alive with artificial glow. Orange lanterns lit. Strings of lights hummed to life. Decorations popped
They climbed back down separately.
By the time Adam found himself wandering the corridors again, stomach reminding him aggressively of its existence, the castle had settled into early night rhythm.
Voices echoed from distant halls. Laughter bounced off stone. Music tested in short bursts somewhere deeper within.
He frowned slightly, trying to remember Bryce's directions to the dungeons.
Left.
Right.
Down a narrow staircase.
Or was it the wider one?
He turned a corner.
And walked straight into someone.
The impact jolted him backward half a step.
"Sorry—"
He looked up.
His words died instantly.
Shock spread across his face.
"Wait… what the hell are you doing here?"