Chapter 180: The Shuttered Night
The laughter still lingered in the air, soft and wistful, as Eva and Aristea made their way down the corridor flanked by towering palms and silent staff. The glitter of the gala remained behind them, a lingering sparkle of candlelight and strings of soft music, but outside the ornate ballroom, it was only the two of them.
They hadn't let go of each other's hand since the last twirl beneath the chandelier. Aristea's grip was firm, possessive almost, while Eva's fingers trembled slightly — not from fear, but from a swell of something new. Excitement. Admiration. The soft ache of connection blooming too quickly to name.
"I don't want to say goodbye," Eva murmured, voice small, eyes shining as she glanced up at Aristea. "Even if it's just for the night. I haven't even left yet, and I miss you already."
Aristea grinned, brushing a loose strand of hair from Eva's cheek. "Don't act like this is the end. We'll see each other again. And besides…" she leaned closer
The moon hung pale and heavy above the villa grounds, draping the world in silver silence. The soft murmur of high heels and goodbye kisses floated on the night breeze as guests gradually departed, their laughter trailing behind like perfume. Eva held tightly to Aristea's hand, both girls reluctant to part. They had danced, talked, laughed. They had built something real, something warm, in the middle of a cold, calculated world.
"Will you write, text, video call, and call me?" Aristea asked softly, brushing a strand of hair from Eva's cheek.
Eva nodded. "Every day if I can. I promise."
They were steps away from the car when it happened.
A scream — sharp, too close.
Gunshots cracked across the garden like shattering glass.
Then came the screams. Piercing. Real.
Guests shrieked and stumbled in glittering heels, gowns tangling at their feet as they fled toward the marble corridors. Security guards roared into their radios, forming a human barrier near the hedges where a figure in black had already been tackled to the ground. Glass shattered somewhere. A waiter's silver tray hit the flagstones with a clatter, flutes of champagne exploding in sprays of gold and foam.
Eva froze.
Her heart leapt into her throat, eyes frantically scanning for Aristea — but she was already moving.
Aristea grabbed Eva's wrist, yanking her behind a stone balustrade just as another volley of gunfire snapped through the night. Leaves burst from a boxwood beside them. A bullet hissed past Eva's ear.
Then it hit her.
Not a sound, not a blow — just a strange pressure, then heat, then cold.
Eva's breath caught.
She looked down and saw the red. Crimson blooming across the white satin at her waist like a cruel ink spill.
Her legs buckled.
"Eva!"
Aristea caught her mid - fall, arms wrapping tightly around her. She barely hesitated — dropping to one knee, shielding Eva's body with her own as more gunshots cracked through the air. Blood soaked into her lap, warm and alarming. Eva tried to speak, but her lips trembled without sound.
"Stay with me," Aristea whispered, voice sharp and trembling. "Look at me, Huntress. Don't you dare close your eyes."
But Eva was fading.
The sky above her was spinning now — trees blurring, stars warping into streaks. Her ears buzzed. The world was too loud, and too far away. She could barely feel Aristea's hand on her cheek anymore.
"I've got you," Aristea said fiercely, and then, without hesitation, she lifted her.
One arm behind Eva's shoulders, the other beneath her knees, Aristea rose.
She carried her through the smoke and confusion like a girl made of war and moonlight. Hair wild, eyes blazing, voice barking commands at the nearest guards. "Clear the way! I need an exit now!"
They obeyed.
People parted. Security surrounded them, barking into earpieces as Aristea, barefoot now — her heels abandoned on the gravel path — ran down the corridor with Eva in her arms. Blood left a trail behind them. Eva's head lolled against her shoulder, lips barely moving.
"I'm cold," Eva murmured, though her voice was slurred and barely there.
"Just hold on," Aristea whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. "You're not leaving me. Not tonight."
They reached the loading zone behind the kitchen entrance. A black armored car screeched to a halt. A man in uniform jumped out, swinging open the door, but Aristea didn't wait. She climbed in, cradling Eva like something sacred, one hand pressed to the wound to slow the bleeding.
The last thing Eva saw — through flickering lashes and the throb in her skull — was Aristea's face above hers. Strong. Terrified. Fierce.
"Stay awake, Huntress," Aristea said, voice cracking. "Please. Just a little longer."
But Eva was already slipping. The pain dulled. Her fingers went numb. The world collapsed inward, until all she could hear was the thud of her heartbeat and the fading echo of Aristea's voice.
Then — darkness.
She didn't know how long she was out. Time didn't seem to exist. Just… stillness.
When Eva awoke, it was to a quiet humming, sterile and artificial. The ceiling above her was pure white, the light painfully bright.
Her throat was dry. Her limbs felt foreign. Her side ached, bandaged and stiff. She turned her head, slowly, too slowly.
Aristea was there.
Sitting cross - legged in a chair beside the bed, her jacket thrown over her lap, long hair messy, face pale with worry. She had fallen asleep sitting upright, her chin tilted to the side.
Eva's heart squeezed. She tried to speak, but her voice came out as a cracked whisper: "Arry…"
Aristea jolted awake. Her eyes landed on Eva, and for a second she looked like she couldn't believe it. Then she lunged forward, gently grabbing her hand. "You're awake. Eva. Oh gods, you're awake."
"W - Where…?"
"You're safe," Aristea said quickly. "You're in a private medical wing. They rushed us here after… after someone opened fire. You were hit, Eva. They sedated you while they operated. It's been two days."
"Two…?"
Eva tried to sit up, and Aristea immediately supported her back with one hand. "Don't push yourself. Just breathe."
Eva did. Inhaled slowly. Her chest still felt tight, but her mind was catching up now. The images returned in pieces — her father disappearing into the crowd, the music playing, Aristea dancing with her, and then—
Panic flickered in her chest. "My papa?"
"He's fine. He wasn't injured. He left after ensuring you were taken care of." A shadow passed over Aristea's face. "He's been giving orders through secure channels. You're not allowed to leave without clearance. I'm not either."
"Did they catch them?" Eva asked.
"No. Not yet." Aristea pressed her lips into a line. "They think it was politically motivated. Someone might've known who you really are, or guessed. They were targeting key guests, and you were visible — dancing with me. That made you a symbol. A… target."
Eva looked down at her trembling hands. "I almost ruined it, didn't I?"
"No." Aristea's voice was firm. She cupped Eva's cheek. "You didn't ruin anything. You were brave, you smiled, you played your part… and you were with me. I'm just glad I was there to pull you behind the car."
Eva blinked back tears. "It's not fair. I didn't even tell anyone who I was. Why would they…?"
"Because sometimes, it's not about who you say you are," Aristea murmured. "It's who they think you are. And you shined last night, Eva. Like someone powerful."
Eva let out a weak breath. "I was just trying to make Papa proud."
Aristea leaned forward, resting her forehead gently against Eva's. "You don't have to nearly die to do that."
There was a long pause. Eva shut her eyes and stayed like that — forehead to forehead with Aristea, hands entangled. She didn't want to open her eyes again. Not yet. Not if the world outside still had guns and secrets and people pretending she didn't belong.
Finally, Aristea spoke again.
"I told them I'd stay with you. I refused to leave. I made a scene," she admitted with a tiny smile. "Even threatened to call my uncle. They backed off."
"You stayed?" Eva asked, her voice hitching.
"Of course I stayed, Huntress."
The nickname hit her heart like a kiss. "I missed you," Eva whispered, fresh tears slipping down her cheeks. "I haven't even left yet and I missed you already…"
"You can miss me as much as you want," Aristea said, wiping her tears. "But you're not going anywhere without me knowing exactly where and when."
Eva gave a shaky smile. "You sound like Ina."
"Then she's smart," Aristea replied. "And fierce."
The moment stretched between them, soft and solemn.
Then Aristea pulled something from her jacket pocket. A silver charm, shaped like a crescent moon, attached to a black ribbon.
"I was going to give you this after dinner. As a token."
Eva reached for it with trembling fingers. "It's beautiful…"
"It's from my family's old collection," Aristea explained. "It belonged to a girl who was said to be protected by the moon goddess. She never lost her way, even in war."
Eva's lips trembled. "You think I'm like her?"
"I know you are," Aristea said. "And if you ever get lost again, just look at it and remember — your Arry is watching."
Eva squeezed the charm to her chest. Then, without overthinking, she leaned forward and kissed Aristea's cheek. "I love it. I love you."
Aristea didn't even blink. She just smiled. "I know."
Later, when the nurses came to check her vitals and feed her soup, Aristea had to move away, sitting on the other end of the room. But her eyes never left Eva.
And Eva, even though aching and sore, smiled faintly as she sipped her soup. She wasn't alone. Not in this sterile, silent space. Not anymore.
When evening came, Aristea curled into the corner of the long couch near Eva's bed. She refused to be escorted out. Eventually, the staff gave up.
Eva watched her doze off again, soft snoring barely audible.
She turned the moon charm in her fingers, whispered a soft thank you into the quiet, and tucked it beneath her gown.
Maybe the world was still dangerous. Maybe it was still cruel.
But Aristea had held her hand through it. Had shielded her. Had stayed.
Eva closed her eyes, the white room slowly fading into dreams laced with crescent moons and a girl's voice calling her "Huntress."