The palace corridors were silent, lit only by the soft glow of mana stones embedded in the pale marble walls. The night was calm, but amid the noble quiet of that residential wing, hurried and determined footsteps broke the steady rhythm of the place.
Sofia was pulling Aziz firmly by the arm. Her little face was sulking, cheeks still slightly puffed, betraying the unresolved jealousy she'd been carrying since the restaurant. She walked decisively, without saying a word, dragging the boy deeper into the palace as if she had a clear destination—even if she didn't.
Aziz didn't resist. He allowed himself to be led with his usual calm, though a faint, ironic smile rested on his lips. His eyes seemed to silently enjoy the girl's stubborn childishness.
Then, as they rounded one of the main corridors, an elegant figure appeared ahead. Her walk was light and graceful, long red hair gleaming under the magical lights. Her astute yet affectionate gaze revealed who she was, even before she spoke.
"Oh my... what do we have here?" Lady Stella said in a serene, curious tone, crossing her arms as she watched the two approach. "Sofia, my dear, how was your day? Did you have fun?"
Sofia didn't slow down. She passed Stella without replying, not even glancing at her directly. She merely cast a sidelong look, snorted audibly with her cheeks still puffed out, and strode on, pulling Aziz more firmly than before.
The fox-governess raised an eyebrow, surprised and somewhat intrigued.
Aziz, meanwhile, briefly turned toward Stella while still being dragged by the girl. His gaze held a playful sparkle, and his ironic smile spoke louder than any words ever could.
"Good evening, Lady Stella," he said in a playful whisper, before disappearing down the corridor, carried away by the determined girl.
Stella watched them vanish from sight. Her expression now wore a slight frown. She touched her chin, thoughtful, with one of her long, well-manicured nails.
"But what... was that?"
Determined to understand, she turned gracefully and took another path. A few minutes later, she found herself in one of the palace's most secluded salons, where Astrid, Sylvia, and Isis were gathered, speaking quietly among themselves.
"Oh, my lady," Sylvia said, lifting her gaze politely and respectfully. "I didn't expect you here now. I thought you were still occupied with documents."
"To tell the truth, I didn't intend to come," Stella replied, approaching with curiosity still in her eyes. "But I just passed Sofia... dragging Aziz through the corridors as if he were a sack of potatoes. And when I tried to ask about her day, all I got was an indignant snort."
"And now you're wondering what happened?" Astrid said, with a small smile at the corner of her mouth, resting her chin on the back of her hand. "It was quite an eventful evening."
"That I can see," Stella replied, taking a seat beside the others. "Someone explain what happened with my daughter for her to act like this?"
Isis let out a soft laugh—the kind of laugh that comes naturally from someone who's paid close attention but prefers to save the details for the right moment.
"It was just a stolen kiss... nothing more," she commented in a sweet but clearly teasing voice.
"A kiss?" Stella's eyes widened slightly. "But who kissed whom?"
Astrid crossed her legs gracefully and leaned back, her gaze sharp.
"A certain waitress named Zia... kissed Aziz on the cheek before running away."
Sylvia, ever composed, added with a subtle smile:
"And let's just say... Miss Sofia didn't handle it very well."
Lady Stella brought her hand to her lips, suppressing an incredulous laugh.
"So that was it..." she murmured. "She's jealous."
"Definitely," Isis confirmed, with a playful sparkle in her eyes. "And it seems little Aziz is beginning to get used to that kind of attention."
Astrid looked at Sylvia, then at Stella.
"Something interesting is starting to form there, don't you think?"
Stella kept her gaze fixed on the passageway where Sofia and Aziz had disappeared moments before. Finally, she smiled lightly.
"Hmm... yes. But I'll pretend I saw nothing," she said, turning her attention back to the women. "Sometimes it's more entertaining to let the seeds grow on their own."
---
Sofia continued pulling Aziz through the palace corridors with firm, hurried steps. Her little face was still flushed with irritation, eyes half-closed and fixed ahead, as if this stubborn gesture was the only way she could express what she felt.
Aziz, although walking along without resistance, finally broke the silence with his calm voice:
"Where are you taking me?"
Sofia didn't reply. She simply squeezed his arm tighter and increased her pace.
He sighed, expression unchanged:
"Sofia..." he repeated with patience. "Where are we going?"
The girl finally turned her face slightly, still walking. The blush on her cheeks revealed a mix of irritation and embarrassment she refused to admit.
"Just... come with me. And stop asking."
Aziz blinked slowly. He seemed neither surprised nor upset—just mildly tired of the silent, impulsive sequence.
"Alright..." he said at last, in a tone almost resigned, allowing himself to be led for a few more minutes in silence.
But as the steps continued and the corridors stretched on, Aziz began to realize they weren't heading anywhere. There was no destination. No specific room. Just corridor after corridor—as if Sofia had lost herself and was walking only to escape what she felt.
After a while, he spoke again, now in an even gentler voice:
"How about... we go to the garden fountains?"
Sofia stopped abruptly.
Aziz also halted, looking at her.
The girl remained still for a moment. Her eyes fixed on the marble floor. Her cheeks, previously showing only anger, now took on a pinkish hue, betraying a sudden embarrassment. In that moment, she realized she'd been walking aimlessly. Without purpose. Just trying to flee the feeling that surged when she saw Zia kiss him... and the ache she felt for having only snorted and run away.
"Okay..." she replied quietly, almost in a whisper.
Aziz simply nodded and took a step forward, leading for the first time since they'd started walking. Sofia followed silently, their fingers timidly and uncertainly intertwined.
The path to the garden was brief. The fountains, nestled among carefully enchanted hedges and leafy silver-leafed trees, murmured with clear waters reflecting the lights of the night sky.
It was a calm, secluded spot—perfect for a conversation that couldn't happen amid curious gazes.
Maybe, here, words finally would be spoken.
---
Soft night lights bathed the garden in an enchanting aura. The sound of the fountains was constant, a continuous whisper that soothed the mind. Among all the sculptures, one stood out with singular beauty and grandeur: a ten-tailed fox-woman, masterfully carved in enchanted white stone, gleaming under the moonlight. Water danced elegantly around her figure.
Aziz and Sofia stopped in front of it.
"How about we sit for a while?" he suggested calmly, after admiring the imposing fox-woman sculpture by the fountain for a moment.
Sofia hesitated. She still looked tense, her face a mix of anger and shame. But she eventually nodded almost imperceptibly, the blush still evident on her cheeks.
They sat on the marble bench facing the fountain, side by side. The sound of the water filled the silence between them. For long seconds, neither spoke.
Aziz cast a sidelong glance at the girl beside him, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the ground.
'She's still upset...' he thought.
Even though she looked like a child, her mind held another history—a previous life full of memories, silence, loneliness. He wasn't an experienced man in love or feelings. Quite the opposite. But at least he could recognize the confusion in someone experiencing something for the first time—and not knowing how to handle it.
'I never knew much about emotions... In my past life, I had no one. No love, no true friendship. And in this one... so far, only my mother... and Isis. They taught me a bit. But it's all still so new.'
"Before... where were you actually taking me?" he asked softly, breaking his internal monologue.
Sofia didn't reply. She only turned her face, pouting stubbornly.
"That's fine... you don't have to tell me." He let out a soft sigh—not from physical fatigue, but from the awkward atmosphere between them. "I just thought we'd walk forever without direction."
Sofia snorted, finally breaking the silence.
"I-I didn't even know where I was going!" she grumbled, turning her face further away from him. "I just wanted to walk... with myself... with you... I don't know!"
Aziz held back a laugh.
"So let's stay here a bit. Just talk."
She didn't reply—or complain.
He relaxed his shoulders, allowing himself to lean back against the bench. After a moment, he looked at her with the corner of his eye.
"You were upset because of Zia, weren't you?"
"I... I'm not upset!" Sofia retorted, almost jumping off the bench as if the mere mention of that other girl stung her. "I just didn't like what she did, okay?!"
"About the kiss?"
"Shut up!"
His question made Aziz look away, laughing low. It wasn't a mocking laughter—it was gentle, almost affectionate, like someone witnessing a sweet moment and unable to help themselves.
"You're laughing at me!"
"I'm not. I just find it funny how you pretend not to mind, but your cheeks are still red."
Sofia crossed her arms tighter.
"Hmph, I really don't care."
Aziz looked at her with tenderness and then spontaneously reached out to gently stroke her red hair. His fingers brushed the soft strands in slow, soothing strokes.
Sofia froze.
For a few seconds, she didn't react. The touch was strange, unexpected... and at the same time, so good. Comforting. Warm.
She relaxed, without realizing it. Her body softened, and she let him continue.
Only when she fully realized what was happening did she try to pull away, blushing even more.
"S-stop that!" she said, attempting to move away.
But Aziz gently prevented her with a soft gesture—no force behind it.
"Stay a bit longer. I'm not doing anything wrong..."
Sofia bit her lip, indecisive. Deep down, she didn't want him to stop.
Slowly, without looking at him directly, she lowered her head. Aziz smiled and carefully guided her head to rest in his lap.
She yielded.
Lying there, embarrassed, yet not resisting.
His fingers resumed caressing her hair. And in that enchanted silence, with the fountain's murmur and beneath the sculpted fox-woman's watchful gaze, time seemed to stand still.
Sofia closed her eyes.
Aziz looked at the sky.
And nothing more needed to be said.