The room had been swallowed by silence for what felt like hours. Not a word passed between Eira and Ana. The heavy stillness sat between them like an invisible wall—cold, suffocating, and impenetrable. Neither dared speak, but the silence spoke plenty.
Then, finally, it cracked.
Ana's voice pierced through the air, brittle but unwavering. "So, what are you thinking?" she asked. "Are you regretting it now? Regretting going to that pond? Talking to me while I was crying? Comforting me?" She tilted her head, her tone challenging. "Do you regret all of it?"
Eira turned her gaze toward her—steady and calm, so calm that it was irritating to Ana.
"No," she said softly. "I don't regret comforting a girl who was crying. That's not a mistake. That's just who I am. If I saw someone in pain again, I'd help them again. Even if it was you." Her voice grew firmer. "What I do regret is thinking you were Ana. Thinking you were my friend. That…" Her words trailed for a moment as she exhaled. "That is what hurts."
Her voice cracked just slightly at the end, but she didn't let it show for long.
"It's painful," she went on. "Spending weeks with someone—laughing, studying, sharing stories, inviting them into your dorm, calling them your sister—only to realize it was all fake. Just a disguise. Just a mission."
She paused, staring directly into Ana's face.
"But why wait two months? Why now? You could've done all this from the start. You didn't need to play the friend. Why bring me here now?"
Ana looked away, then shrugged with infuriating nonchalance. "Let's just say… I got tired. I've been running missions for too long. So, I gave myself a little break. Two months of rest. I spent them at the school."
Eira gave a short, sharp laugh. It echoed through the dark room.
Ana frowned. "What's funny?"
"Oh, nothing," Eira said, a cruel smirk on her lips. "Just remembering how you excelled in some of those classes. You were so talented, even I envied you sometimes. But now I realize… you were just an old woman pretending to be a schoolgirl."
Ana's face twisted in irritation. "Don't call me that."
"What? An old woman?" Eira's grin widened. "But isn't that what you are? What are you now—thirty? Forty? It's hard to tell in the dark, but I'd bet you're pushing forty. It must be exhausting pretending to be young, right?"
Ana rolled her eyes and sighed. "Stop this childish game. You won't bait me into doing something stupid. I've been trained far too well for that. Don't waste your time with mind games, little girl."
Eira leaned back and shrugged. "Oops. You caught on."
She tilted her head and said coldly, "So? What now? Come on—get it over with. Torture me? Kill me? Kidnapping isn't fun if you're just going to sit here in the dark and let me get thirsty. You know, for someone who spent two months pretending to be my friend, you could at least offer me a glass of water."
Ana didn't respond to that. Instead, she answered plainly, "I'm not the one you need to worry about. I was just supposed to get you out. The rest…" She looked toward the door. "The rest is for someone else."
The room fell silent again.
Then—a knock came from the door .
Ana immediately rose, her wand already in hand. With a quick flick of her wrist, a mask appeared on her face, concealing her features.
"Oh," Eira mocked. "Suddenly shy? Don't want the other villains to see your face?"
Ana ignored the jab. She stepped toward the door, her voice sharp. "Who is it?"
A man's voice answered coolly, "I'm here to sell a phoenix."
With a flick of her wand, Ana opened the door. Two figures entered—a short man with sharp eyes and a taller one with broad shoulders and a cruel smirk.
Their eyes scanned the room, pausing on Eira.
"So this is the girl," the short one said. "Why isn't she unconscious? Shouldn't she be asleep or something?"
Ana crossed her arms. "Spare me the complaints. My job was to deliver her. You can handle the rest."
The tall man chuckled. "She's awake and feisty. That's your problem."
Ana glared at him. "I'm done here. I'll inform the employer that my part of the contract is fulfilled."
She turned to Eira. "Well, Eira… it was a beautiful two months. Surprisingly pleasant, I'll admit. Who knows? If you survive, maybe we'll meet again someday."
Eira stared at her, unblinking. "If I live," she said in a low voice, "I promise you, Ana—or whatever your name really is—you'll regret everything you did to me. And if I find you again… you better be long gone."
The taller man gave a low whistle. "Such fire. She's threatening you with a straight face. What did you do to her?"
Ana didn't bother responding to that. "Enough. Finish your task before someone finds her. They're already searching."
The short man nodded. "We'll take care of it. Don't worry."
Before leaving, Ana walked over and began patting down Eira's robes. Her brow furrowed.
"Where's your pouch? The one you always carry?"
Eira only smiled. "No idea. Maybe the wind took it."
Ana scowled. "Whatever. I just needed it as proof. Not my concern anymore."
She backed toward the door. "Goodbye… friend."
Then she was gone.
Eira was alone with the two strangers now. The taller man looked her up and down and grinned.
"Well, well. Eira White," he said slowly. "You look even prettier in person than in the newspaper ."
She glared at him. "And you two look uglier than I imagined. I pity your wives—if you've ever had any. Honestly, you both give off the vibe of lifelong bachelors… and not by choice."
The short man snorted, but the tall one narrowed his eyes and licked his lips. "Oh, now that's not very nice. I could show you exactly how much experience I've had."
Eira sneered. "Don't flatter yourself."
The shorter one muttered, "Let's just go. We've wasted enough time. We need to get her out before it's too late."
"Fine, fine," the taller man said, disappointed. "But I've been waiting for this moment…"
Together, they moved toward her, and the dark room emptied once more.