CHAPTER 159: LATE

For a while, neither one of them spoke—almost like they had said all they needed to say. The silence between Aria and Liora was thick, but not entirely uncomfortable.

It was as though the weight of what had been spoken still hung in the air, pressing down on them. Aria lowered herself slightly against the edge of the table while Liora paced once, then twice, clearly not ready to sit.

Aria opened her mouth to say something else, maybe to ease the tension that had crept between them again—but she jerked up in shock at the sound of a knock on the door.

Her heart leapt instantly, her breath catching. But as quickly as the fear came, it was replaced with relief. That knock was too polite, too respectful. Zyren would never knock on his own door. She knew that much.

She had just gotten up, heading toward the door with her nerves still taut from the earlier conversation, thinking it was the guards, when she heard a familiar voice. Rymora’s voice.

It made her speak immediately. "Let her in!" Her tone held none of the command it usually would. Instead, it came out quick and grateful, like a small breath of escape.

Rymora greeted with a low bow of her head, fixing her gaze on the floor as she entered. I

Liora, upon seeing her, instantly got on her feet. No smile crossed her lips this time—only a quiet urgency, a shift in posture that made it clear that she knew their time was up. Moving closer without hesitation, she stepped forward and gave Aria a hug. It was firm, heartfelt, and brief—almost like she wished she didn’t have to pull away at all.

Whatever they had left to say, they both knew now that it would have to wait. There was no room left for more words, not with Rymora standing there quietly like a silent shadow.

"I’ll come and see you very early tomorrow," Liora promised softly, almost in a whisper as she leaned in to hold Aria again, this time more tightly. Her arms didn’t shake, but the concern in her touch was undeniable. The look on her face—worried, drawn, determined—was not the kind one wore unless something truly mattered.

No matter how curious she was, Liora knew better than to think she’d be allowed to witness the bonding ritual. Zyren would never allow it. Which meant that she wouldn’t know what happened until morning. And that lack of knowledge sat heavy on her shoulders like a stone she couldn’t remove.

Liora had just pulled away from Aria when she leaned in again slightly, her voice low and urgent. "You know you don’t have to go along with it. You can still refuse." Her breath brushed lightly against Aria’s ear as she spoke, and for a moment, Aria froze.

But the expression that met Liora’s gaze when she pulled back was one of resignation masked behind a small smile.

"I’m okay, Liora. Don’t worry about me," Aria replied, her tone soft, almost too calm. A smile curved her lips but didn’t quite reach her eyes. The weight in her chest hadn’t lifted—it had only been buried deeper, out of sight.

Liora stared at her for a moment longer, as if trying to read the truth beneath her words. But in the end, she nodded slowly and turned away. Her footsteps were deliberate as she left, the door closing behind her with a final click that made the room feel colder.

Neither Liora nor Rymora acknowledges each other’s presence. And yet, in that heavy silence, it became instantly and undeniably clear that the two of them did not like each other.

Aria didn’t know when it had started or why the sensation was so visceral, but it was there. Rymora’s silence wasn’t just respectful—it was distancing.

The moment the door shut behind Liora, Rymora began to move. Without a word, she walked toward the wardrobe. Her hands moved quickly and efficiently, sorting through the dresses and garments stored there. It was clear what she was doing—picking out the outfit Aria would wear to the General food hall for breakfast.

Aria watched her closely. Her gaze followed every movement, eyes narrowing faintly as her thoughts shifted.

Aria hadn’t said a word yet, but something gnawed at the back of her mind. A detail she couldn’t ignore.

She saw it—again. The faint bruise, just at the sides of Rymora’s mouth.

"What happened?" Aria asked suddenly, her voice cutting through the still air. "That’s the second time you’re getting bruises on the sides of your mouth."

She hadn’t even finished speaking when she saw Rymora blush.

The transformation was immediate. From the roots of her short, curly hair right down to her toes, Rymora flushed deep red. It was startling—so intense and so quick that it gave Aria pause.

The reaction was unexpected. Aria’s breath caught slightly as she stepped forward. Her expression widened with confusion and curiosity as she stared at Rymora, whose back was now rigid, her shoulders hunched toward the wardrobe as if she wanted to vanish inside it.

If it had been possible to toss herself entirely into the wooden frame, Rymora would have done it. Her embarrassment was that raw, that exposed.

Instead of answering, Rymora simply shook her head. It wasn’t a small shake either—it was vigorous, firm, final. And then she tossed the outfit she had selected onto the bed without turning around.

Aria blinked. She had expected denial, maybe even evasion—but not this.

She remained quiet, unsure whether to push or leave it be. Eventually, she chose silence. Whatever story lay behind that bruise, Rymora clearly wasn’t ready to share it. Not now. Maybe not ever.

Besides, time was slipping quickly through her fingers. She was already running late. Everyone else would have already arrived at the food hall.

Getting ready became a quick, quiet affair. Aria dressed quickly, her fingers moving automatically. Her thoughts buzzed, but she didn’t speak. Rymora followed close behind, neither one breaking the silence that wrapped itself tightly around them.

Rymora glanced at Aria’s hair, lips thinning. It was still damp. There hadn’t been enough time to dry it properly, but there was nothing they could do about it now. Without a word, they both stepped out of the room and began to move swiftly toward the General food hall.

By the time they reached the front gates, Aria’s heart was thudding. But even before the guards came into view, she knew what had happened.

The door was closed.