For a suspended heartbeat, the world seemed to narrow to the space between them... Nerine standing just inside the doorway, Kindra behind the counter, the faint glitter of jewels catching light between them.
Sofia's chest tightened, bracing for the flicker of recognition, the narrowing of eyes, the sharp intake of breath that would mean trouble.
But none of it came.
Kindra's gaze slid over her with a polite smile, the way a shopkeeper might greet any well-dressed stranger. "Good day. Welcome to Madam Helen's Gems. How can I help you today?" Her voice was warm, professional, without the faintest tremor of surprise.
Nerine's breath caught in confusion. Kindra wasn't pretending—She could tell. There was no furtive glance, no guarded hesitation. Just genuine, unremarkable courtesy.
Penelope stepped forward, entirely unaware of the storm in Nerine's head. "We're looking for pieces to match the gowns for the annual ball. Something elegant but striking." she said showing her the dress portrait for the annual ball.
Kindra nodded. "Of course. I have several sets that might suit you both. May I?" She gestured gracefully toward a display case and began unlocking it.
Nerine moved closer almost mechanically, her mind whirring. She studied Kindra's face....the familiar slope of her cheekbones, the little dimple in her chin—but there wasn't even a flicker of recognition in her eyes.
It didn't make sense.
Had she changed that much? The hair, yes, and her bearing was different—more refined, more deliberate—but Kindra had known her for years. Could that all be erased so easily?
Kindra placed a velvet-lined tray on the counter, the jewels catching in the lamplight like droplets of fire and ice. "This set," she said, pointing to a delicate necklace of pearls and moonstones, "would suit someone with fair skin and light eyes. Very understated, yet captivating in its own way."
Penelope's gaze slid toward Nerine with a smile. "That sounds like you, Sofia."
Nerine managed a polite nod, her voice steady. "It's beautiful."
But her attention was still on Kindra—on the calm way she moved, the complete absence of the knowing glance Nerine had dreaded.
She almost wanted to test it. To say something only the two of them would know. To watch for the reaction. But Penelope was right there, and Kael....Kael was standing near the doorway, his unreadable gaze fixed on her as though he could see every unspoken thought.
Kindra brought out another tray. "And this....emeralds, for a more vivid statement."
Penelope's eyes lit up. "Oh, I adore these. Sofia, which do you prefer?"
Nerine hesitated, finally letting her lips curve into a faint smile. "The pearls. They… feel right."
Kindra began wrapping the chosen set in fine tissue, placing it into a box embossed with the store's crest. "A lovely choice, my lady," she said, her tone still entirely impersonal.
When they turned to leave, Penelope was already chattering about the next stop, her arm linked with Nerine's.
Nerine glanced back once.
Kindra was already bent over another tray, carefully rearranging sapphires, her expression calm—completely untouched by the encounter.
It left Nerine with a strange hollowness in her chest. Not relief, not entirely.
Because if Kindra didn't recognize her at all… then why did that unsettle her more than if she had?
Nerine's pulse still hadn't slowed by the time they stepped out of Madam Helen's Gem Store.
Penelope was in high spirits, chatting about how Irene's gowns and the pearls would be "absolutely divine" for the ball. Nerine nodded along, her mind drifting back to Kindra's face—the total lack of recognition, the polite warmth of a stranger.
That shouldn't have been possible.
They walked arm in arm, Kael trailing just behind like a silent shadow, when Penelope suddenly wrinkled her nose. "If I have to drink one more cup of tea today, I might turn into a teapot."
Nerine gave a small laugh. "That would explain why you always seem to whistle when you're bored."
Penelope gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. "I do not whistle...."
"You hum," Nerine corrected with a teasing glance. "Like a kettle about to boil."
Kael's voice floated from behind, smooth and amused. "You're both worse than a teahouse full of gossiping matrons."
Penelope spun around mid-step, walking backward so she could face him. "Then I suppose you wouldn't mind if we had a proper meal instead of tea?"
His dark eyes softened almost imperceptibly. "As long as you don't make me endure another hour debating between chamomile and mint."
Penelope grinned in victory, looped her arm through Nerine's again, and pulled her toward a corner street where the scent of roasted meats and fresh bread wafted through the air.
They chose a discreet, elegant place on the main avenue. High ceilings, warm candlelight, polished wood tables that reflected the glow. The windows were slightly fogged from the heat inside, and the air smelled faintly of rosemary and butter.
A waiter led them to a table tucked toward the back, giving them privacy without making it obvious they were avoiding attention.
Nerine settled into her seat, finding it strangely comforting to be somewhere ordinary after the charged encounters of the morning. Penelope scanned the menu like a woman on a mission.
"Do we order something extravagant?" Penelope whispered conspiratorially. "Or do we play it safe?"
"Safe," Nerine murmured, pretending to study the menu though her appetite was still unsettled. "Extravagant gets you desserts you can't pronounce and regret later."
Penelope smirked. "Noted. Safe, but with dessert."
Kael, already glancing toward the waiter, ordered for all three of them without asking. Somehow, he managed to choose exactly what they each would have picked.
"How do you do that?" Penelope asked, eyes narrowing playfully.
"Observation," he replied simply, leaning back in his chair.
Nerine sipped her water, not trusting herself to join the banter. Her thoughts kept circling back to Kindra. If the woman truly didn't recognize her, then the life she once had might be more distant than she'd imagined. But if she was pretending… why?
Their meals arrived—perfectly roasted lamb for Kael, a delicate herb-stuffed chicken for Penelope, and a chicken stew with warm bread for Nerine.
For a while, they ate quietly, the comfort of food softening the edges of tension. Penelope's chatter began to fill the space again, light and easy.
It almost felt normal.
Nerine was midway through a bite of bread when she felt it—a subtle shift, like a drop in barometric pressure. The candle flames flickered unnaturally, bending toward the door.
Kael's gaze snapped up from his plate, his entire body stilling.
Penelope noticed too, her words faltering mid-sentence.
From the corner of her eye, Nerine saw shadows pass across the frosted windows. Tall shapes. Many of them.
The door opened with deliberate slowness.
One by one, figures slipped inside. Seven. No… eight. Their movements were too fluid, their eyes catching the candlelight in unnatural glints. They didn't belong here.
Vampires.
Conversation in the restaurant died instantly. Chairs scraped softly as people leaned back, giving them space, unsure whether to flee or freeze.
The group fanned out, surrounding the room without hurry, like predators who already knew there was no escape.
Their leader stepped forward.
He was tall—slender but with a wiry strength in the way he moved. His hair was black as midnight, his eyes a pale silver that caught every shard of light. His lips curved into a slow, deliberate smirk.
"Hello there, Lord Kael?" he asked, his voice smooth but carrying an edge.
The room went very still.
Kael didn't move, didn't blink.
The man's smirk widened. "Then I have a message for you."
Nerine's breath caught. A message?
The man didn't elaborate. Instead, he gave a slow, appraising glance at Kael—then at Penelope and Nerine. "We were told to find you. That's all you need to know… for now."
Behind him, one of the vampires shifted impatiently, as if restraining himself from something more violent.
"Who sent you?" Kael's voice was even, but there was steel beneath it.
The leader's eyes glinted, but his answer was infuriatingly vague. "Ask the right questions, and perhaps you'll find out before it's too late."
Then, with a faint nod to his group, they turned and filed out—leaving the same way they came, silent and sure of themselves.
The door shut, the air slowly easing, but the tension stayed coiled tight in Nerine's chest.
She looked at Kael, hoping for an explanation.
But his gaze was distant, shadowed, as if already calculating the next move.
And for the first time, Nerine wondered—not who had sent them—but what exactly was coming next.
And it felt like something very big.