CHAPTER 39: STORY TIME WITH EVELYN

Emma leaned forward in her seat, eyes fixed on Evelyn. "I can see that," she murmured, taking in Evelyn’s calm expression, the faint smile that masked something deeper. "So... what happened then?"

Evelyn’s gaze drifted. She exhaled slowly and adjusted in her chair, as if bracing herself. "Alright," she said, fingers lacing together in her lap. "I’ll give you the short version. But don’t interrupt me, okay?"

Emma nodded, sensing the shift in atmosphere.

"I was seven when I started noticing things. My family was... close. Maybe too close, if that makes sense. We all lived together in a massive home my grandfather bought, me, my parents, my grandfather, and his wife, unlike this place that he built, which was gaining attention ."

Her voice had a quiet rhythm now, distant but careful.

"Everyone admired this place. Said it was one of the greatest constructions in the world. They came to my grandfather constantly, asking him to help them replicate it. He eventually helped develop what people now call the dungeon-building frame."

"Structures that change and respond, and send you to different buildings, which are dungeons."

Emma blinked. "Wait... that was your grandfather?"

Evelyn gave a small smile. "Yeah. That’s why I say we were too close since we did everything together. Everyone thought we were brilliant. One of the Untouchable. But there was always something off beneath all that praise, which I did not know till later. Something... strained."

Emma stayed quiet.

"One night, I couldn’t sleep. I was hungry, probably something silly like wanting a biscuit. I was still wearing these ridiculous pink pajamas with little stars on them." She gave a soft laugh. "Anyway, I crept down the stairs, thinking I could sneak something from the kitchen. But just as I reached the second step, I heard voices."

Evelyn’s smile faded, and her brows furrowed slightly.

"They were downstairs in the main hall. My dad... and my grandfather. So I backed up—didn’t want them to catch me. But then I heard my father say something that made me freeze."

Emma watched, waiting.

"’I don’t care about dungeon-building,’ he said. ’What I care about is this curse. This... thing that makes me hate that despicable elf." Evelyn’s voice had lowered, mimicking the deep anger of her father.

Emma’s expression darkened in thought, but she didn’t interrupt.

"My grandfather—he looked like an older version of my dad—gray hair instead of black, same eyes—put his hand on Dad’s shoulder and gave him this soft smile. I couldn’t see it that night, but I remember imagining it. He told him, ’You shouldn’t hold onto hate like that. It’ll destroy you and make you not think straight. This isn’t the way to situation."

Evelyn paused, her eyes unfocused.

"My father—Lucas—he lost it. I’d never heard him sound like that. He shouted, ’Situation? You call this a situation? I’m going to lose you because of her. You know what it’s like to watch you cough up blood every morning? And then you expect me to smile at my daughter like everything is okay?"

Evelyn glanced at Emma, her tone even.

"He broke down in front of his own father. Said he was scared of dying. Scared of leaving me behind. Said he couldn’t bear the idea that I’d grow up watching him die the way he watched his father die."

Emma’s eyes were wide now, lips parted slightly. She didn’t speak, but her fingers tightened against her skirt.

"They hugged. My grandfather just said to him, ’I’m sorry, Lucas. I didn’t want this life for you either.’ And that was it."

Evelyn looked down.

"I didn’t know what to do with that. I was just a kid. I crawled back to my room that night, but I didn’t sleep. I kept thinking... what curse? Who’s this elf? I didn’t know anything."

Emma slowly leaned back. "...Did you ever find out what the curse was?"

"I didn’t have answers. So I made my own plan."

Evelyn straightened a little, voice quieter.

"I woke up early the next morning. I mean early. I went to my grandfather’s room and crawled under his bed. Dumb, right?" She gave a small, bitter smile. "But I stayed there. I didn’t care about how dusty it was or that my knees hurt. I waited for over thirty minutes."

Emma blinked in surprise. "You waited under the bed...?"

"It mattered to me," Evelyn said simply. "I needed to know if what I heard was real. And then... I heard it."

Her voice thinned slightly.

"A cough. Then another. Then more—wet, harsh, like it was tearing something out of him. I couldn’t see his face, but I could see his hand gripping the sheets. And then my father came in, dragging a metal pole... one of those IV stands, the ones you see in hospitals. He was holding bags of blood, or whatever kept my grandfather from collapsing that day."

Emma’s face softened, her lips pressed together.

"I cried under that bed, silently.

"I kept the blanket over my mouth so they wouldn’t hear me. I didn’t understand everything. But I understood enough. Something was killing them. Slowly. And it would kill my dad next."

There was a long pause.

Evelyn stood suddenly. "I think I’m done telling the story."

Emma looked up, startled. "Wait, Evelyn—"

But Evelyn was already walking toward the door.

"I wasn’t expecting that," Emma said softly, but Evelyn didn’t stop.

Emma hesitated, then stood as if to follow, but she stopped herself. Evelyn didn’t want comfort. Not right now.

She watched her go, eyes filled with quiet understanding.

Emma decided not to say anything more that night. Evelyn clearly needed space, and pressing her wouldn’t help.

She left her alone during lunch and only gave a soft wave at dinner. Evelyn joined them without a hint of anything being off, quietly eating while Lucy and Caelen talked about training plans at the table.

Emma sat beside Caelen but barely touched her food. She kept glancing at Evelyn, who looked calm, even content, as if nothing had happened.

Emma couldn’t tell if it was strength or just another mask. Either way, she didn’t interrupt it.

Later, in their room, Caelen leaned in just as they settled under the blanket. He was going to kiss her, but she turned her head.

"Not tonight," she said softly.

Caelen paused, then pulled back. "Is something wrong?"

Emma hesitated, then shook her head. "No. It’s just... I read a story earlier. Got me thinking."

"Was it that good to get you thinking like that?" he asked, watching her face.

"No," she said after a pause, eyes distant. "It was sad."

Caelen reached out gently. "You okay? You can talk to me."

She nodded, lying down. "Yeah... It’s just the first sad story I’ve really read. The kind that doesn’t end well."

"There are a few of those," Caelen said, lying beside her. "Some movies do that too. You think there’ll be a happy ending, and then... just nothing. Or worse."

Emma let out a small breath, not quite a sigh. "Yeah."

He didn’t say anything else, but leaned in and kissed her cheek. She didn’t move away this time. They lay there in the dark, the silence between them soft but a little heavy.

Emma woke up earlier than usual. She slipped out of bed quietly, wrapped her cardigan over her shoulders, and made her way to the kitchen.

Silver was already there, prepping ingredients with her usual energy, though she looked normal to Emma, but she felt like she was a bit surprised for some reason.

"Early?" Silver said.

Emma smiled faintly. "Thought I’d help today."

As they began working, she noticed Evelyn already seated at the table, sipping coffee with a calm expression, her eyes on the window.

Emma walked over and greeted her. "Morning."

Evelyn glanced up and returned the greeting evenly. "Morning."

Emma sat down beside her. The silence wasn’t heavy this time—it felt like a waiting room, not quite comfortable but not awkward either. After a moment, Emma spoke.

"I’m sorry about yesterday."

Evelyn didn’t look surprised. She set her cup down. "It’s not your fault. I reacted poorly. Even though I chose to say everything... I guess I wasn’t ready for how I’d feel after."

Emma looked down at her hands. "I didn’t mind hearing it. I just... feel bad for making you go there."

"You didn’t make me," Evelyn said. "And I’m sorry too. For putting Caelen in that situation."

Emma tilted her head. "Why do you say that?"

Evelyn paused. "I didn’t have the right to ask him to risk himself and your life like that. I thought... if he was willing to do stuff like that and what he did to Lucy, maybe I too can do stuff like that. But I heard my grandfather warn my dad about where that kind of hate leads. I guess I didn’t take it as seriously as I thought I did."

Emma looked at her for a long moment before speaking. "Caelen’s not stupid. He probably knows the risks. And he also knows what he wants to do. So... don’t beat yourself up, okay?"

Evelyn gave a small smile. "Okay."

They shifted the conversation after that, talking about little things.

Nothing important, but it filled the space with something lighter. So much so that Lucy and Caelen eventually came in, both looking only half-awake.

Lucy raised a brow at the sight of the two of them chatting. "What time did you even wake up?"

"Before you," Evelyn said without turning, sipping her coffee.

Emma smiled. "We were just talking."

"Mm," Lucy said, already heading toward the prepared food.

Caelen rubbed his eyes, sat beside Emma, and leaned against her shoulder with a quiet grunt. "Too early."

"Didn’t you say we’d start training this morning?" Lucy asked, grabbing a boiled egg from the tray.

Caelen groaned louder. "You remembered that?"

Lucy smirked. "I did. So no backing out."

Caelen sat up straighter, resigned. "Fine. Just let me eat first."

"Ten minutes," Lucy said as she sat down.

The group gradually settled into the usual rhythm, but something felt subtly different. Less tension. A shift that hadn’t quite reached peace, but was closer.

Evelyn glanced toward Caelen with a smile. "Want a massage after training?"

Caelen blinked. "Nah. That’s Emma’s job."

Evelyn looked over at Emma.

Emma smiled softly and said under her breath, "You’ll get there."

Lucy, already chewing, stopped and looked directly at Emma.

Emma met her eyes and smiled a little more.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then Lucy slowly turned back to her food and muttered, "Tch."

Caelen didn’t seem to notice any of it. He was too focused on piling food on his plate before Lucy reminded him to spar, so he should hurry.

Evelyn sipped her coffee again, saying nothing, but her eyes flicked between the two girls and the man between them.

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