Charlotte stirred.
Not just a twitch or a soft groan this time, she moved. First a hand shifting, then a wince, then finally, she pushed herself upright with shaky arms. Her eyes opened fully now, wide and unfocused. Her breathing came fast, shallow. The grogginess of sleep hadn't even left her before the confusion rolled in like a thunderhead.
"Wh…what happened?" she rasped, her voice dry and unsure, almost disbelieving.
She staggered to her feet, glancing down at herself. Her gaze swept over her body in jerky, sharp movements. Not a bruise in sight.
"What—?" Her hands skated over her abdomen, up her arms, trembling. "But I—I was— I was hit—how am I—"
Her voice had become a breathless whisper, almost to herself now. "This doesn't… make sense…"
She ran her hands over her ribs as if expecting to feel shattered fragments beneath the skin, but all she found was smooth, healed flesh. Panic flared behind her eyes, not from pain, but from the absence of it.
Then she saw him.
Her confusion dropped like a stone into something sharper, darker.
"You?!"
Her voice cracked with a mixture of fear and disbelief as her eyes locked onto the bound figure. Chains wound around his limbs, and his mouth was gagged, but even so, the rage in his eyes was unmistakable.
Charlotte stumbled back instinctively, eyes wide, heart clearly racing. "He—he's restrained. Why is he—what is he—"
"You know," Lavender piped up from her rock perch, lazily tossing a pebble from hand to hand, "you'd think people would thank us for neutralizing rabid dogs, but they always look so confused instead. No gratitude these days"
Charlotte turned to her, startled. "Who—?"
Lavender lifted a hand and wiggled her fingers in a mock-cheerful wave. "Hi."
Charlotte blinked. Once. Twice. Her brow furrowed in deep, puzzled lines, as if her brain couldn't decide whether Lavender was a threat, an ally, or some unclassifiable in-between.
But then her eyes found Mira. And everything else evaporated.
"My Lady!"
She rushed forward, half-running, half-stumbling over herself. Mira, still cradling me with her arm protectively wrapped around my tiny form, looked up in surprise.
"Are you alright? Are you—" Charlotte dropped to her knees beside her, hands hovering just inches away from Mira's shoulders, as if afraid she might accidentally touch an injury. "Did he hurt you? Where are you wounded? I—I'll—"
"Charlotte," Mira interrupted gently, "I'm okay."
Charlotte froze, caught mid-panic. Mira smiled softly, the kind of smile that smoothed over tension like warm sunlight over cracked glass.
Mira said, her voice low and reassuring. "We're safe."
Charlotte blinked rapidly. Tears, or the threat of them, shimmered in her eyes, but she held firm. She nodded quickly, her jaw tight. "Thank the stars…"
Then her gaze shifted. To her.
Eirlys.
She was still standing off to the side, hands folded in front of her, eyes cast slightly downward as if she were trying not to exist. But Charlotte's attention was already locked.
"You…"
Eirlys flinched slightly, cheeks instantly flooding with red.
"I-I—um… h-hi," she stammered, fiddling with the hem of her sleeve. "I-I'm E-Eirlys. N-Nice to meet you."
Charlotte's eyes narrowed just a little, not unkindly—more curiously.
Mira came to the rescue. "She's the one who healed you."
Charlotte's head snapped toward her again. "She what?"
"I-I didn't—I mean, it wasn't—" Eirlys waved her hands frantically, taking a shaky step back. "I-It wasn't that b-big of a deal—!"
"You healed me?" Charlotte interrupted, breathless.
"I-I mean, sort of… I just… I just nudged things along a little…" Eirlys's voice trailed off into an incoherent squeak.
But Charlotte was already moving. Before Eirlys could panic further, she dropped to a low, respectful bow right in front of her, her forehead nearly brushing the grass.
"Thank you," Charlotte said, her voice thick with emotion. "Thank you so much. I owe you my life."
Eirlys immediately tried to backpedal, her entire body going rigid. "P-Please don't—oh no no you d-don't have to bow—I didn't—it's not—I just—!"
Lavender, watching the whole thing with her chin in her palm, sighed dreamily. "Awwww. This is so cute."
I agreed, though in a baby way. I squeaked and wriggled a little in Mira's arms, fascinated by the flurry of stammering, blushing, and heartfelt gratitude on display.
Eirlys looked like she might combust. Charlotte wasn't moving either—her gratitude sincere, unwavering, as if she understood just how close to death she'd been.
Mira just smiled, rocking me gently.
And in that moment, with Jet groaning faintly against his gag in the background, Lavender spinning another pebble in her fingers, and Eirlys turning pinker by the second under Charlotte's unwavering thankfulness, I could feel it—
A sense of relief.
A sense of ease.
Something so simple. Yet, it's felt like a treasure we were never meant to hold for too long.
For the first time since the trial began, since we set foot into that maddening nightmare, I felt... peace. A strange, fragile kind of peace. The soft rhythm of Mira's heartbeat beside my tiny frame rocked me in comfort. The moment felt sacred, in a quiet, fleeting kind of way.
I couldn't help but soak in the sight before me—Charlotte smiling gently, Eirlys still fussing nervously under the weight of gratitude, Lavender swinging her legs lazily, tossing stones. Mira… looking more like her again. Not someone in panic. Not a fighter. Just... Mira.
It meant something. Even if it wouldn't last. Even if it was only for now.
But that warmth didn't last long.
Because I felt it, a subtle tension under Mira's fingers. The way her grip shifted slightly on my back. The gentle smile fading from her lips, replaced by something more rigid. Uncertainty. Her eyes narrowed slightly, turning to the left.
Charlotte noticed it too. Her instincts, always sharp when it came to Mira, kicked in fast. She followed Mira's gaze—
And froze.
Her expression shifted instantly. Surprise, realization… and something deeper. Relief. The kind that cuts through the fog in your mind and makes everything real again.
Standing at the edge of the clearing, tall and calm, was him.
Lucien.
He didn't move. He didn't speak. He simply stood there like a statue. He made no attempt to interrupt. He simply watched, eyes soft, posture humble.
But the weight of his presence was felt all the same.
I had sensed him earlier, his presence pressing softly into the edges of my awareness. But I knew better than to call attention to it. He didn't want to disrupt. And apparently, Lavender had caught on too—her glance flickered toward him for the briefest moment, then turned away again like she was doing him a favor.
Charlotte bolted.
"My Lord!"
Her voice broke through the stillness like a bell. She ran toward him, nearly stumbling as her feet met the uneven ground.
"You're awake—I'm sorry! I failed you—I was completely useless—if I had been faster, if I hadn't let my guard down, maybe you wouldn't—"
"Charlotte."
Lucien's voice was calm but firm. The kind of tone that didn't raise its volume but silenced everything.
She stopped mid-ramble.
He stepped forward and rested a hand lightly on her shoulder. "You were never a liability. You did what you could. You protected Mira and Caelum to the best of your ability."
"But I—"
"You survived," he cut in gently, "and you ensured others did too. That's what matters."
Charlotte blinked rapidly, clearly holding back tears. Then she dropped her head with a tight nod, murmuring, "Yes, my Lord."
Lucien gave her a small nod of approval, then turned his gaze to Mira.
And the entire atmosphere changed again.
The silence between them wasn't comfortable. It wasn't peaceful. It was loaded. Thick.
Tense.
They didn't say anything right away. Just stared at each other. Lucien with his usual composed look, but his fingers fidgeted behind his back. Mira… Mira's gaze hardened, her expression growing stormy the longer the silence lingered.
It was hard to look at.
These were the two people who'd given me more love in this life than anything I ever knew in my old one. But right now, it felt like there was a wall between them. One neither knew how to climb. And honestly, I didn't know if they wanted to.
The journey… everything we endured… it had done something. Or undone something.
The distance between them wasn't just emotional anymore. It was felt in the air. I didn't want to think it, but—this was going to be a problem going forward.
Lucien finally cleared his throat, his voice softer than usual.
"So… uh…" he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, "you're okay?"
The words hung there. Bare. Unsteady.
Mira's eyes narrowed instantly.
"That's all?" she asked, her voice low and sharp. "That's all you have to say after everything?"
Lucien looked slightly taken aback, lips parting, but no words came immediately.
Mira didn't wait.
"You disappeared," she snapped. "Then you were unconscious, dying—again, might I add. Charlotte was nearly killed. Caelum could've been taken. And I had to fight through all that, alone—again!"
Lucien stayed silent, but guilt crept up his neck. He didn't interrupt.
"I needed you!" Mira continued, her voice cracking with something far more raw than anger. "You always act like you have to carry everything on your own. I'm tired of it. I'm tired, Lucien."
Lucien swallowed hard. "Mira, I didn't mean—"
"No," she said firmly, "you never mean to. But you still do it."
I sighed inwardly.
They were talking—but not really saying what needed to be said. Mira might feel she's right, but she pushed hard, too fast. Lucien meant well, but he always stumbled when it came to vulnerability. Both of them were wounded in different ways… and neither knew how to reach the other without hurting first.
All that pressure, fear, loss—it left bruises they hadn't begun to address.
Mira turned away slightly, clutching me a little tighter.
Lucien's shoulders slumped. "I just wanted to know you were okay…"
"You could've said that before asking awkwardly like we're strangers."
Lucien muttered something, looking away.
Another silence. Thick. Unbreathable.
I nestled against Mira's chest again. I didn't know what I could do—if I could even do anything. I was a baby. I couldn't speak, I couldn't walk, but I felt everything.
This mattered.
They mattered.
But if something didn't change… we'd fall apart.