The carriage wheels rattled over gravel, drawing to a halt outside Dimitri's estate. The fires at Chloe's manor were extinguished, but the smoke of it still clung to the clothes, the hair, even the air around Riella and Amelia as they stepped down, weary and shaken.
Kaien had already seen to Chloe's care, sending her to the physician with strict orders, but Dimitri's eyes never left Riella.
"Bring them inside," he commanded, his tone clipped, betraying nothing. Yet his gaze lingered too long on the soot that streaked her cheeks, on the faint tremor in her hands as she helped Amelia.
Once Amelia was led away by a maid, Riella found herself summoned—not to a guest chamber, but to Dimitri's private study.
The door shut behind her with a heavy thud.
For a moment, silence reigned. Dimitri stood by the tall windows, back to her, shoulders rigid as stone. His voice came low, steady:
"Did you see anything?"
Riella's lips parted, but she hesitated. The memory of the masked figure, the searing words—Calista, daughter of the sun—burned fresh in her mind. Yet something in her chest twisted, warning her to stay silent.
"No," she said softly, though her voice wavered.
Dimitri finally turned. His dark eyes scanned her face, searching, reading every flicker of hesitation. He saw the lie. He always did.
But instead of pressing, he only exhaled slowly, his cold mask cracking at the edges. For once, he didn't look like a general or a commander. He looked like a man carrying too many ghosts.
"You…" His voice faltered, then steadied again. "You don't understand the danger you're in."
"I can handle myself," Riella whispered, but the way her hands trembled betrayed her.
Dimitri crossed the room in two strides. Before she could step back, his arms were around her—his left hand firm against her back, pulling her in, his right resting gently at the back of her head.
Riella stiffened, breath caught. She had never known him like this. Not unyielding General Dimitri, but a man whose grip felt both protective and desperate, as if holding her was the only way to steady himself.
For a heartbeat, she thought she heard the crack in his armor.
"They weren't planning to kill you," he murmured into her hair, his voice low and dangerous. "Not yet. Whoever lit that fire… they only wanted to remind me. To remind you."
Riella's breath hitched. "Remind me of what?"
Dimitri closed his eyes, his jaw tightening. He didn't answer. Couldn't. Not yet.
Instead, his hold on her tightened slightly, the faintest tremor running through his hand. When he finally pulled back, his gaze lingered on hers—haunted, unspoken words burning behind his silence.
Then, as quickly as the moment came, the cold mask slid back into place.
"You'll stay here," he said, stepping away. "Both you and Amelia. You're no longer safe beyond these walls."
And though his tone was as sharp as command, Riella's skin still tingled where his hands had held her, where his closeness had burned hotter than any flame.
The manor felt heavier that night, even with its high arches and endless corridors. The smoke of Chloe's ruined home seemed to follow them still, settling into every corner of Riella's mind. She sat on the edge of her new chamber bed, trying to steady her hands.
The door creaked.
Amelia slipped in, pale from exhaustion but stubborn as ever. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, folding her arms.
"You've been awfully quiet," she said, her tone sharp but her eyes worried.
"I'm just tired," Riella murmured.
Amelia's gaze narrowed. She crossed the room, plopping onto the bed beside her. "No. This is not tired. This is you holding something back. And don't even think about denying it."
Riella opened her mouth, but nothing came. Her lips pressed together, betraying silence more than words could.
Amelia tilted her head, studying her friend closely. Then her eyes widened slightly, a glimmer of realization sparking.
"Oh…" she whispered, a teasing smile breaking through despite the soot still clinging to her hair. "Something happened with him, didn't it?"
Riella's cheeks flushed before she could stop herself. That was all the confirmation Amelia needed. She sat up straighter, grinning now.
"I knew it! You're hiding something."
"Amelia—" Riella hissed, her voice low, almost pleading.
Her friend only smirked, leaning close to whisper like a conspirator. "Was it words? Or… was it something more?"
Riella's silence stretched. Her eyes flickered to the floor, to her trembling hands.
Amelia gasped, clutching Riella's arm dramatically. "Oh, Saints… He touched you, didn't he?"
"Amelia!" Riella's voice rose in flustered protest, but the heat on her face betrayed her again.
Amelia softened, squeezing her hand. "I don't mean it badly, Ri. I just… I've never seen you look this way before. Like something has you caught between fear and fire."
Before Riella could answer, a knock came at the door. A servant's voice called: "My ladies—the General requests you rest early. Breakfast will be served at dawn."
Amelia rolled her eyes. "The General commands, as always," she muttered. But when the servant left, she turned back to Riella, gentler this time.
"Whoever set that fire… I don't care if it was the devil himself. You're not alone in this, Ri. Don't forget that."
Riella nodded, swallowing the storm in her chest.
---
Elsewhere in the manor, the General himself paced his study.
Kael entered without knocking—he never had to. Dimitri's twin moved with an ease that came only from blood and bond. He shut the door behind him, his usual warmth tempered with a rare seriousness.
"You're bringing them here?" Kael asked, his tone carrying no judgment, only concern.
Dimitri didn't answer immediately. He stood by the fire, shadows sharpening the lines of his face.
Kael stepped closer. "You know what that means. Whoever set that blaze will try again. And here—" he gestured around the room—"they'll be at the heart of it."
Dimitri's jaw tightened. "I know."
"Then why?" Kael pressed. "Why risk everything? Why not send them further away, somewhere no one would think to look?"
Dimitri turned then, his gaze sharp but unreadable. "Because no place is safe. Not anymore. And at least here… I can see them. I can guard them."
Kael studied him in silence. For once, his twin looked almost… worn. Not defeated, but carrying something heavier than steel or stone.
"This isn't just duty to you," Kael said quietly. "Not anymore."
Dimitri's eyes darkened, but he said nothing. He poured a drink instead, though he didn't lift it to his lips.
"You're changing, brother," Kael murmured. "And I don't know if it will save you… or destroy you."
The silence that followed was thick, filled only by the crackle of the fire.
Finally, Dimitri spoke, his voice low, almost to himself:
"Whoever set that fire wasn't trying to kill her. They were reminding me that she's here. That they know."
Kael's expression hardened. "Then we'll make them regret it."
But Dimitri didn't reply. His mind was elsewhere—on Riella's trembling hands, her silence, the way she had pressed against him when his arms had encircled her.
It wasn't just danger that unsettled him. It was the undeniable truth gnawing at the edges of his resolve.
She was no longer just a ward to protect.
She was becoming something he couldn't allow himself to want.