The golden rays of dawn slipped through the curtains of the chamber, stirring the dust into quiet motion. The terror of the nightmare had retreated, but the silence it left behind felt suffocating.
Lethia sat on the couch, one leg crossed elegantly over the other, her elbow rested against the backrest, her head supported lightly in her hand. Her gaze was fixed on the bed where Serik lay submerged in an exhausted sleep as his weary body had finally surrendered to the rest it so badly craved.
He had pushed himself to the brink of collapse, riding for days from the Western Borders to the Capital without pause, driven solely by the desperate need to reach her.
She looked at him, her mind a chaotic blur of the previous night. She remembered the heat of his skin, the intensity of his touch and the warmth of his heart.
Can I really step beyond it? she wondered.
Is it even possible for me to truly forget everything?
Her eyes softened as she cast one final look at him before leaving the room silently.
She moved down the hallway toward the study, her expression neutral. As she passed a maid, she stopped for a second. "Find Ciro. Have him meet me in the study," she ordered, then kept walking.
By the time Ciro arrived at the study, Lethia was already sitting behind the desk.
Ciro closed the door and stepped forward. "You called for me, My Lady?"
She lifted her gaze slowly, "What happened… after I lost consciousness?"
"The hunt was called off," Ciro said. "The wolves' attack was not accidental. It was discovered that someone deliberately led the pack toward the pavilion."
A faint stillness settled in the room.
"Everyone was escorted back immediately."
"Lord Serik came to see you shortly after you were brought back," he added.
"I see."
She lowered her gaze briefly, then lifted it again.
"Where is Silas?"
"He is currently with Arin."
Lethia nodded. "Tell Arin to make sure Silas stays away from Catherine."
Ciro hesitated slightly, "I understand."
"Also, fetch the documents regarding forgery. I want to see them," she added.
"As you command" Ciro said, turning to leave.
Lethia stayed stayed there for a long while reading the documents of her estate, though her thoughts were far from the matters at hand.
***
The day was drawing to it's quiet end as the sun was lingering at the edge of the horizon as though reluctant to depart.
In the bustling streets of the capital, small vendors were beginning to pack their stalls, and children dashed through the alleys for one last run before dark.
Serena walked through the bustling street, a small wrap of roasted peanuts cradled in her hand. She nibbled on them absentmindedly as she passed the stalls.
Serena had always been warm of spirit and quick to befriend others. In only a few days, she had grown familiar with everyone around the streets.
"Closing up early today, Marco?" she chirped, pausing by a fruit stall.
"The wife has a stew waiting, Serena! You should get home too, the chill is coming," the old man laughed, waving her off. Serena grinned, promised to visit tomorrow, and continued her walk.
As she walked, her thoughts drifted unwillingly to the events of the previous day.
When Ciro had carried Lethia back to the manor, unconscious and pale, Serena had felt the world tilt beneath her feet.
She had refused to leave Lethia's side, she would have remained there all night if Serik had not arrived.
She withdrew herself and sat outside the room until she heard Lethia's scream.
The sound of Lethia's voice, filled with agony, had Serena on her feet in an instant. She had burst toward the room but stopped dead at the threshold.
Through the cracked door, she saw Serik was holding Lethia, his hand gently stroking her hair.
Serena watched, her eyes widening in shock as she heard a sound she hadn't heard in years. Lethia was sobbing hard.
Tears pricked Serena's own eyes. It hurt to hear, but she felt a strange sense of relief. Finally, Lethia had found a warm space to let her pain out. Seeing them wrapped in that embrace, Serena knew she wasn't needed there. She had quietly pulled the door shut.
The memory faded as Serena reached the edge of the plaza just as the street performers were setting up. Singers were tuning their instruments, their melodies beginning to drift through the cooling air.
She slowed down, tempted to stay and listen to the music, but night was approaching swiftly.
With a small sigh of regret, she turned away from the plaza and quickened her pace toward the manor.
After crossing the plaza, Serena made her way toward the old stone bridge that arched over the river. The evening breeze had turned cooler, carrying the scent of water and damp stone.
She noticed a figure leaning heavily against the railing. He wore a black cloak plain but the high quality of the fabric made it obvious he was no commoner. His boots were polished. His posture, despite the sway, held the unconscious elegance of someone raised above others.
He was leaning so far over the edge that it looked like he might tumble into the water at any moment.
Serena hesitated. If he was some high ranking noble, getting involved might bring trouble. But as she turned to leave, he tipped further, his body swaying dangerously.
"Oh for heaven's sake!"
She dropped her peanuts and lunged, grabbing his arm with both hands and yanking him backward.
She dropped her wrap of peanuts and rushed forward, grabbing his arm just in time.
"Mister! If you're planning to throw yourself into the river, do it later. Don't jump in front of me!" she cried out.
The man turned his head slowly, as if annoyed by an insect. "Mind your own business," he muttered, attempting to shrug her off.
Serena caught the scent immediately.
She wrinkled her nose. "You've been drinking? And you're dangling over a bridge? Are you trying to drown yourself?"
The man turned toward her, and Serena finally got a good look at his face, his fiery red hair and piercing gold eyes stood out even in the dimming evening light.
A handsome man indeed she thought, gulping.
But despite his beauty, his eyes looked hollow, as if he simply wanted to disappear.
"Leave, before I have you beheaded." he snapped, his voice carrying a cold authority.
Serena blinked.
Then she smacked his shoulder.
"Listen here, you overgrown child..."
His head snapped toward her in disbelief.
"...threatening the person who just saved you? Is that how you were taught manners?'
His eyes narrowed. "Do you have any idea who I... "
Before he could finish, Serena grabbed his wrist and started dragging him away.
He stumbled after her, surprisingly compliant.
"Are you abducting this kid now?" he asked dryly.
"If I were abducting you, I wouldn't have announced it," she shot back. "Sit."
She pushed him down onto the bench and began straightening his crooked cloak.
"In this world, a fragile woman like me can't do anything to a man, so don't worry about being abducted."
He gave her a sidelong glance but said nothing.
His eyes, beautiful as they were... looked exhausted.
Serena sighed.
"Stay here until you're sober. Then you can decide if you still want to jump off bridges."
She stood and turned to leave, but felt a tug.
She looked down at him.
He had caught the edge of her skirt, holding her back.
"Stay!" he ordered.
Serena blinked.
"Listen, kid, I have to go. It's getting dark and it's not safe."
"Go home," Serena added.
His grip tightened faintly. "I don't have one."
Serena was about to scold him again, but the words died in her throat.
With a sigh, she sat back down. Only then did he release her skirt.
For a while, they sat in silence. The river moved below, steady and indifferent.
Finally, she asked gently, "What's hurting you?"
He didn't answer at first. His gaze remained fixed on the dimming sky.
"I miss someone," he said at last.
Serena glanced at him sideways.
She hesitated.
Then, blunt as ever. "Are they dead?"
His head turned slowly.
"What kind of question is that?" he demanded. "You ask that so casually?"
"Well," she shrugged, "if they're alive, we can work with that. If they're dead, that's… harder."
He stared at her in disbelief.
"You're incredibly insensitive."
"It's efficient," she corrected.
She recognized that look, it was the same one she had worn when she missed her mother.
"Death ends a life, but it doesn't end the bond. That's the unfair part. You're still talking to them in your head… and they never answer back"
His eyes flickered toward her.
After a moment, he asked, "Did someone of yours die too?"
Serena gave him a flat look. "And I'm the insensitive one?"
For a heartbeat, they simply stared at each other.
He huffed.
She huffed back.
And somehow, despite everything, a small, dry laugh escaped them both.
"My mother," Serena admitted after a moment. "When I was twelve."
"Do you still miss her?"
"Of course," she said. "But it doesn't tear me apart the way it used to. At first, I thought if I had known she would leave so soon, I would have hugged her more. Stayed home more. Annoyed her less."
Serena looked at the river for a long moment before speaking again.
"You know what the worst part is?" she said quietly.
He didn't answer, but she could tell he was listening.
"The sad part about grief," she continued, "is that you don't just grieve the past."
He frowned slightly.
"You grieve the future too."
He looked at her now.
"All the things that were supposed to happen. The conversations you thought you'd have. The ordinary days you assumed would come." She swallowed softly. "You don't just lose what was. You lose what could have been."
His fingers tightened against his knee.
She gave a small, humorless smile. "When my mother died, I didn't only cry because she was gone. I cried because she would never see me grow up. Never scold me for staying out late. Never meet the people I'd bring home."
Silence stretched between them.
"It feels like someone tore pages out of your life before you got to read them," she added.
His voice came low. "Yes."
She smiled faintly.
"I have realised that the pain is the price you pay for loving," she said. "So I'm not really scared of it anymore."
The words settled between them.
"If you love deeply," she went on, "you will hurt deeply. That's the deal. But I'd rather hurt than never love at all."
He looked away, thoughtful.
"I think," she added gently, "we don't regret loving them. We just regret that it ended."
A long silence followed.
Then he asked, almost reluctantly, "And if the pain never fully leaves?"
"It won't," she answered honestly.
She smiled softly.
"It just changes shape. It stops being a wound and becomes a scar. You don't bleed every day but you remember."
He was very still.
"And sometimes," she said lightly, "the scar aches when it rains. That's normal too."
A faint breath escaped him.
"It hurts but eventually… you stop trying to run from it."
She added,"My mother was kind to everyone. So I tried to be like her. I hoped she would live on through me."
He looked at her and said quietly, "You achieved that... because you are kind."
Serena stared at him, surprised by the sudden gentleness in his voice, before a quiet laugh escaped her.
"I see. Then I guess it's all good. What about you? What did you love about the person you miss?"
He looked at the sky, a distant memory softening his features.
"He was my elder brother. His heart was so big... he would forgive you with a smile even if you stabbed him."
His voice cracked slightly as he finished.
Serena reached out instinctively and patted his head.
"He sounds like a wonderful person. I'm sure you will become as kind as him."
He pulled back slightly, moving her hand away. "Stop treating me like a kid."
She pouted. "I thought we were bonding."
He almost smiled.
Then Serena suddenly gasped.
She shot to her feet. "I'm late"
He blinked at her dramatic panic.
She grabbed his hand before he could react.
"Since I'm doomed anyway," she declared, tugging him up, "you're coming with me."
"To where?" he asked.
"To somewhere loud," she replied. "If we can't erase grief, we can at least annoy it."
He stumbled after her as Serena dragged him straight toward the glowing lights of the plaza.