Chapter 12
A Memory Danced Between Them: Hers
from Have You Someone to Protect?
by ©Amer
Silas stood at the center of the ballroom, dignified in his silence.
Eyes shifted between him and Lhady—especially from those who remembered. Whispers flickered like candlelight among the older guests. Only Alen, the evening's radiant celebrant, seemed untouched by the tension. She had been far too young when it all unraveled.
Mira and Sian stepped closer to Lhady instinctively, their shoulders brushing hers. But Lhady did not step back.
She was held—not tightly, but securely—by Caelum, who stood beside her with quiet certainty. For the briefest moment, her composure wavered. Her hands trembled before she caught herself, spine straightening once more. She clapped with the rest of the guests as if nothing had changed.
The guests, all still masked in glittering disguises, murmured behind silken feathers and ornate designs, their expressions unreadable but their eyes sharp with curiosity and recognition.
"She's alright," Mira murmured, unsure if she meant it for herself or Sian.
"She's pretending," Sian replied. "And he knows it."She nodded toward Caelum, whose gaze never once left Lhady's profile.
A few high-ranking officials, drawn by Silas's presence, approached him one by one—conversing with respect, eager to be seen with the commander of the city's elite forces. He greeted them with grace, answering politely. But now and then, his eyes sought one person.
He stood tall in formal attire of black and silver, the threads catching the candlelight like woven moonlight. His dark golden hair was tied back in a neat ponytail—not too long, yet enough to soften his angular face. With his light complexion and the striking contrast of his sharp, yet gentle eyes—manly but warm—it was little wonder the women nearby melted under the weight of his gaze, even behind their masks.
Lhady did not move.She wasn't sad—at least, not outwardly. But her smile was a little crooked, the kind that held too much effort and not enough ease. She kept her place, her hand still wrapped gently in Caelum's.
The hall quieted when the herald stepped forward."Presenting the celebrant's first dance," he declared, "in honor of her coming of age."
Gasps of admiration followed Alen's entrance.She glowed, dressed in soft pearl and storm-silver accents, a diadem woven through her dark curls. She looked every inch the young noble she had become.
At her side stood Silas—his golden-dark hair catching the candlelight, eyes calm, his presence grounded and assured. His attire was deep midnight blue, embroidered with threads of silver-gold that shimmered like starlight. A commander's poise. A soldier's strength. But there was something softer, too, when he turned to Alen and offered his hand.
Lhady's expression didn't change.She watched—not him, but her. Watched Alen accept his hand, watched the two of them take their place on the floor. Her posture remained, unmoving, graceful. But her fingers curled just slightly beneath her shawl.
"She's going to leave," Sian whispered."No. She'll stay." Mira's voice was steady. "This is Alen's night."
And Lhady stayed.She did not smile. But she did not flinch either, even as the music began and Silas led Alen in the first sweeping turn of the dance.
Caelum watched her quietly. He had heard things over the past months—fragments of stories told over tea or beneath breath during shop visits.
The girl who rarely left her bookshop after her guardian's death.The one who once stood at the train station too long, waiting for someone who never returned.The one who was now, finally, seen walking through town again. With him.
He never asked. He only listened.And now, as he watched her watching another, those stories stirred again in his mind.
Still, he did not let go of her hand.Lhady didn't look at him. But she felt it—that stillness beside her, the warmth, the way he stayed.
"Do you want to leave?" Caelum asked softly.She shook her head, eyes fixed ahead. "It's her moment."Caelum's voice lowered. "And yours?"A pause."She'll remember tonight forever. I don't want her to remember it... with absence."
Silas and Alen turned in a final elegant step, her laughter light, his hand steady at her waist.Lhady blinked, then exhaled slowly."I'm fine," she said, not quite convincingly.Caelum didn't press. He only nodded, fingers firm around hers.
"Then we'll stay. Together."
And in that crowded, golden-lit hall, filled with music and whispered histories, Lhady remained.Not for herself.But for the girl dancing in silver.And the man who once left her standing still.
Lhady kept her gaze on the dancers, but her mind drifted—softly, like the notes of the waltz echoing around her.
A memory returned. Gentle. Piercing.It was around this season, four years ago, in the modest tailoring shop at the edge of town—the same place where Caelum had recently been fitted for the ball. An elder woman had been celebrating her birthday, and both Lhady and Silas had come with small gifts and well wishes. The woman, soft-voiced and perceptive, had always cared for them like grandchildren.
That afternoon, the old shop had smelled of tea and pressed cloth. There were only the three of them inside, the tailor humming in the back while Lhady helped her arrange birthday pastries on the table.
Silas had arrived late, breathless, holding a small box tied with a ribbon."You remembered," Lhady had said, surprised."Of course," he replied, eyes bright. "I never forget things that matter."
She smiled, heart skipping.They had stayed after the woman retired for a nap. And in the quiet that followed, with golden light pouring through the old glass window, Lhady had sat beside Silas on the worn velvet bench.
Neither spoke for a long while.Until she said, without meaning to, "It's different now, isn't it?"Silas turned to her. "What is?""Us."He paused, searching her face."I'm still me. You're still you. But... yes," he admitted. "It is."She looked at him, uncertain. "And you don't mind?""I was hoping it would change," he said, softly. "Because I care for you, Lhady. Not just as someone from our past. I care for you... because you're the person I want in my future."
Her breath caught. It was the first time she'd felt her heart move like that since—Since Amer.Since she lost the one person who had been her whole world, and all the silence that came after.
Tears welled up, unbidden. Silas reached for her gently, hands warm at her cheeks."I won't leave you," he said, firm, almost like a vow. "Even if the world changes, I'll stay."She had nodded, too overwhelmed to speak.Then she leaned into him, and he pulled her close. They sat in that quiet embrace, the shop wrapped in fading light, the kind of silence that didn't hurt.
It was the first time she loved someone after loss.The first time she let herself be held again.
Back in the ballroom, the music softened to a close.Applause rang through the crowd as Alen curtsied and Silas bowed, their dance complete.
Lhady didn't move. She simply blinked once, as if returning from somewhere far. Her fingers still rested in Caelum's. He said nothing, but his thumb moved slightly—comfort, not demand.
She stood taller again.It was a beautiful memory. But that was all it was now—a memory stitched in warmth, folded away like a keepsake no longer worn.