Chapter Three

February 27, 1895
Aefryne Hill, Veronaville

Puck watched wordlessly as Oberon paced back and forth in front of him, the floorboards creaking intermittently with the ticking of the clock in the hall. It must have been nearly midnight now, he mused–and yet, Oberon was still here, biding his time. His mind was made up, but his body was unwilling to cooperate.

“There is no sense delaying it,” muttered Puck at last. “It has to be done. You know it, and more importantly, she knows it; this is what she wants.”

Sighing, Oberon slowed to a halt, slouching in resignation at the foot of Puck’s bed. “She will die.”

“She knows.”

The elder shook his head. “She must not realize…”

“She does,” Puck insisted. “She wants this.”

“But why her?” demanded Oberon as Puck pulled himself to his feet. “Why her and not I? I have been on this earth longer than she; should it not be my turn?”

Puck frowned; he could not pretend to have an answer, but at the same time, Oberon was not one to take silence as a reply. And yet, he could accept that this was the way things were, even though Titania was the older sister he never had. It was her time, and if she was willing to embrace it, then so was he.

“She won’t die immediately,” he breathed at last. “She will still have time…”

“Not enough,” spat Oberon bitterly.

“I know.”

Once more, all was quiet save for the sounds of the house. Oberon did not speak again, but as his gaze met Puck’s, his eyes clearly read I cannot do this.

Puck sincerely hoped that his blink was enough to convey his response of You must.

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