Morning arrived softly, though to Melissa, the light felt like an intrusion.
She woke with a dull ache behind her eyes and a heaviness in her limbs that felt far worse than simple exhaustion.
Her mouth was dry, her head throbbing in quiet protest against the wine from the night before.
She groaned, turning onto her side. Never again, she thought weakly.
As she sat up, the fragments of the previous night drifted back: Clementia's sharp voice, the shattered porcelain, and the tears she had sworn she was done shedding.
Her chest tightened, but the pain felt… distant. Like a storm that had passed, leaving the ground soaked but intact.
A knock sounded at the door. Melissa stiffened. "Yes?"
The door opened without waiting for permission.
Ember stepped in. She didn't look like the confident prodigy or the fiery leader of Arson. She looked… awkward. She was holding a slightly crooked bowl, steam rising from it in uneven curls.
"You look terrible," Ember said bluntly.
Melissa blinked, letting out a small, surprised laugh that immediately turned into a wince. "I feel worse."
Ember placed the bowl on the bedside table. "Soup."
Melissa stared at it. "You… cooked this?"
"I followed a recipe," Ember said defensively
"That doesn't reassure me."
Ember scowled. "Just drink it."
Melissa lifted the spoon and took a cautious sip. It was… interesting. It was far too salty and somehow bland at the same time. One vegetable was a mushy pulp while another was nearly raw. It was imperfect in every possible way.
Melissa smiled. "It's good," she said softly.
Ember narrowed her eyes. "You're lying."
"I'm really not." Melissa took another sip, slower this time. Warmth spread through her chest—not from the salt, but from the fact that Ember was here. That she had noticed.
"You missed training," Ember said, leaning against the wall. "Kai said you'd probably overslept. Felix said you were 'emotionally marinating.'"
Melissa snorted. "There it is," Ember noted, her voice softening.
"The what?"
"That sound. You laughing."
Melissa paused, the spoon hovering mid-air. She hadn't realized how long it had been since she'd made that sound.
"I get headaches sometimes," Melissa whispered, her gaze lowering. "They pass."
Ember didn't push. She never did.
After a moment, she said, "You know… you don't have to be exceptional all the time. It's overrated. Exhausting. Trust me."
Melissa looked up, searching Ember's face. "You say that, but you still try to be perfect."
Ember huffed. "Bad habit."
Silence settled between them—not the heavy, suffocating silence of House Cynthia, but something light and easy. When Melissa finished the bowl, she looked at Ember sincerely.
"Thank you. For coming."
Ember headed for the door, pausing with her hand on the handle. "Next time you feel like drowning in bad decisions… knock on my door instead."
Melissa laughed again—freely this time. "I'll try."
As the door closed, Melissa sat in the quiet. She had entered this realm at fifteen; now, at twenty-one, she had been the leader of Cynthia for two years.
She was a pillar of the Second Realme, yet only Ember seemed to know the person behind the title.
A friend, Melissa thought. Perhaps even something more.
Outside, the realm stirred. Destiny was impatient. But for now, the earth felt a little less heavy.