The temple's evening air was thick with the scent of sandalwood and burning wicks, but another aroma curled through the corridors now—warm spices, honeyed milk, and the earthy sweetness of cardamom.
Aaravi carried the tray carefully, her steps slow and measured as she made her way through the quiet halls. The flickering lanterns cast golden halos against the smooth stone walls, the distant sound of temple bells humming like a heartbeat in the background.
She shouldn't be doing this.
She never did this.
She had served tea before, yes—to the sick, to the weary, to those who came seeking comfort in the form of a warm cup and a quiet moment. But she had never done it like this. Never like this.
Not when she felt the weight of his presence before she even entered the room.
Vihan sat in the dim glow of the guest quarters, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting against his knees. His tunic hung loose now, the tension of his armor stripped away, but the weight of his thoughts still settled heavy in his shoulders.
She exhaled softly before stepping forward.
He looked up immediately.
Golden eyes locked onto hers, sharp even in the softened light.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then, Aaravi lowered the tray onto the small wooden table between them.
"You traveled far," she said, keeping her voice steady. "And I suspect you have not eaten properly."
Vihan's gaze flicked to the cup, then back to her. "You don't have to do this."
Aaravi arched a brow. "And yet, here I am."
Something unreadable passed across his expression, but he said nothing as she lowered herself onto the cushion across from him.
She gestured toward the tea. "Drink."
Vihan studied her for a long moment before reaching for the cup. The moment his fingers wrapped around the warm clay, his brow furrowed slightly.
"It smells…" He hesitated, inhaling again. "Like something familiar."
Aaravi watched him carefully. "Try it."
Vihan lifted the cup to his lips. The first sip was slow, deliberate.
The moment it touched his tongue, his eyes flickered with something—recognition.
Aaravi hid her small smile, watching as he took another sip, rolling the taste across his tongue.
"Black tea," he murmured. "Cardamom. Pepper." He paused, his gaze flicking to hers. "And saffron."
Aaravi inclined her head. "It is a special blend. The Ember & Gold Chai."
Vihan raised a brow. "Yours?"
Aaravi hesitated for only a moment before nodding. "Yes."
He took another sip, his expression thoughtful. "It suits you."
Something warm curled low in her stomach.
She reached for the plate beside the tea and placed it in front of him. A bacon cheddar scone, still warm, the sharp scent of cheese mingling with the sweetness of butter and spice.
Vihan glanced at it, then at her, his lips twitching. "You expect me to trust this?"
Aaravi rolled her eyes. "If I wanted to poison you, I wouldn't do it with something so well-made."
Vihan smirked. "Fair point."
He picked up the scone, breaking off a piece before taking a bite. The first chew was careful, but the second was slower, as if he were actually tasting it.
A pause.
Then, to her absolute delight, his eyes closed briefly, a soft exhale slipping through his lips.
Aaravi tried not to be smug. She failed.
"Well?" she asked, leaning forward slightly.
Vihan's eyes opened again, locking onto hers. There was something in his gaze now that hadn't been there before. Something warm.
"I've had a lot of meals after battle," he said slowly. "But none have tasted quite like this."
Aaravi's pulse stuttered slightly.
Not because of the compliment.
But because of the way he was looking at her now—as if he were truly seeing her for the first time.
The quiet stretched between them, long and thick, filled with something unspoken.
Vihan lifted his cup again, sipping the tea, his movements slower now.
"This…" He studied the golden strands floating in the brew. "This is saffron from the mountains of the North."
Aaravi nodded. "You recognize it?"
A flicker of something passed through his expression. "Yes. I once traveled there." He took another sip. "But this is better than anything I tasted there."
Aaravi tilted her head. "You sound surprised."
Vihan's lips twitched. "I am."
She smirked. "You shouldn't be."
He huffed a quiet laugh. "Fair point."
Aaravi leaned back, letting the warmth of the tea settle between them.
The firelight flickered in his eyes, casting molten shadows across his face.
She had seen many versions of him already.
The warrior. The man who burned. The man who carried his wounds in silence.
But now, in this moment, she saw something else.
A man learning how to let the fire rest.
And maybe, just maybe, she would be the one to show him how.