After a long, tense minute of silence, I finally broke it. My voice was uncertain, but I couldn't stop the thought from bubbling to the surface. "Is she one of the girls who aren't here to marry me but because of her parents?" I asked, the words feeling odd as I spoke them. It felt like I was asking a question I didn't even fully understand myself, but I had to ask anyway. Maybe she was one of the girls who didn't like boys at all—or maybe there was something else to her presence here that I hadn't realized until now. It didn't make sense, but it was a question that had been gnawing at the back of my mind.
Aeneas, who had been standing across the room, looked even more irritated by the second. His mood was visibly worsening, and he muttered under his breath, his voice dripping with frustration. "By how she's standing up to that jerk, instead of siding with us, I bet she is." His words were sharp, and his sneer deepened. "She's innocent enough to believe whatever that dumbass was saying," he continued, his tone thick with bitterness. His irritation hung in the air like an undeniable cloud, and I couldn't help but notice there was something more to his anger—something deeper that hadn't been said. It clicked then, and I understood. This must be the reason why Aeneas was so angry. There was a history here that none of us were privy to, something unsaid that kept his temper so volatile.
"What exactly did Eileithya say?" I asked, my voice directed at no one in particular, but hoping that one of them would be able to clarify things. I needed to know more about her behavior, something concrete to hold onto, and so I asked the question that had been haunting me since the confrontation.
Sohan, who had been unusually quiet up until that point, answered me in a voice that didn't quite sound like himself. It was as if something had come over him, something dark and heavy that had altered the way he spoke. His words were weighed down with a shadow of doubt. "She was, again, insisting that she still has fifty-two years to live," Sohan began, his voice void of its usual lightness. "Which," he glanced around at all of us, making sure we were all on the same page, "I guess all of us here know is a lie." His eyes flickered nervously as he spoke, his gaze briefly meeting mine before looking away, as if he were trying to escape some deeper truth. The words settled heavily in the air. The atmosphere in the room shifted, and I could sense the tension rising. It was as if we were all waiting for something we couldn't yet see.
Rai, who had been standing in the back of the room with his arms crossed, seemed especially uncomfortable with that particular statement. His posture shifted slightly, and I noticed how his face hardened, as though he was preparing for something unpleasant. There was a sense of unease in the way he carried himself, like there was something gnawing at him, but he wasn't ready to share it yet.
"Maybe she's just trying to make herself forget her actual deadline," Adonis suggested nonchalantly, rolling his shoulders, his voice almost casual. But there was an edge to it, a kind of careful detachment, as if he was trying to shake off the weight of the conversation.
Rai, however, shook his head vehemently, his expression clouded with something deeper—something I didn't quite understand. He opened his mouth, speaking slowly, as if his words were carefully chosen. "I don't think so," Rai said, his voice drawn and reluctant. "But I can't pinpoint what's happening either. I just..." His words trailed off, and his gaze drifted, distant and unfocused. He stared into the distance, as if lost in thought, searching for something he couldn't quite grasp. His voice lowered to a whisper, almost as though he was speaking to himself, lost in his own memories. "I still can't forget the expression on her face when she saw herself in the mirror."
The words struck me like a cold wind, sending a chill through my spine. I couldn't shake the image that formed in my mind—a flash of Eileithya's face, twisted in a strange mixture of emotions. I swallowed hard, trying to push the uncomfortable sensation aside, but it wasn't easy. "It's been haunting my dreams every night for a month now," Rai continued, his eyes far away, as if he could still see that moment replaying in his mind, over and over again. "It was... it was as if... at the same time she was scared, sad, and lost, she was also happy, relieved..." His voice faltered for a brief second, and I could sense the deep emotion behind it. It was a moment of raw vulnerability, something he didn't often show. I could feel the weight of his words settle over me, and it made my stomach churn uncomfortably.
I couldn't meet his gaze anymore. My eyes flickered away, searching for something to focus on. It wasn't that I didn't care, but his words—so personal, so full of emotional weight—made me uncomfortable. "You know her better than we do, Rai," I finally said, my voice a little more detached than I intended. I wasn't sure why I said it, but it felt like the right thing to say. He seemed to perk up slightly, his attention back on me, and I felt the shift in the air as the tension eased a little.
Even though Rai's feelings toward her were far from kind, and even though there was a lot of animosity between them, I still trusted that Rai had a better understanding of Eileithya than any of us. He'd seen parts of her that none of us could claim to know. "Even if you hate her," I added, my voice quieter now, "you know her better than any of us here. Do you think she would harm someone for nothing?"
Rai looked confused by my question, his brow furrowing as he processed my words. He seemed genuinely unsure of what I meant, which only added to the strange atmosphere between us. "Harming in what way?" he asked, his voice tentative, as if I was asking him something complicated.
"Like... pushing someone to the ground," I clarified, the words hanging awkwardly in the air as I spoke them. The question felt ridiculous even as I asked it, but there was something in me that just couldn't ignore what I had seen.
"Nsomi?" Rai said, his eyebrows raising in disbelief, as though the idea was beyond comprehension. "Unless this person was me, Aeneas, Sohan, Adonis, or... hm... you... then, no! Even now, she isn't the type to harm someone for no reason!" His voice was firm, full of certainty, but I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was off. His answer didn't fully satisfy me, but I kept it to myself.
Aeneas, clearly exasperated by the conversation, let out a long sigh. He rolled his eyes dramatically, as if the whole situation was beneath him. "I hate her, but I hate to agree with Rai," he said with a mixture of irritation and begrudging respect. "But why the question?" he shot me a look, his tone sharp and questioning. It was clear he wasn't happy with the line of questioning, but I couldn't back down.
I bit my bottom lip nervously, feeling the knot in my stomach tighten. The weight of the situation was starting to settle in, and it didn't feel right. "Well..." I began slowly, unsure of how to explain. "A few minutes ago, I found her with Elodie in the hallway." I paused, searching their faces for any sign of understanding. "Elodie was on the ground, looking terrified, like someone had tried to murder her, while Eileithya was standing over her, just staring down at her." I felt my heart race as I recalled the moment. I could still see it clearly—Elodie's wide, horrified eyes and Eileithya's cold, detached gaze. The image haunted me.
"I... I thought she had harmed her," I admitted, my voice faltering. The words felt like a confession, a weight I wasn't sure I was ready to bear. "So I acted on impulse, and I kind of hurt her." I winced slightly as I said it, almost regretting the words, but it was too late now.
Sohan slapped his forehead in exasperation, his face flushed with frustration. "Come on, Dai!" he groaned, clearly upset. "Your mom told us, explicitly, not to hurt the girl physically. Especially not now—she may look like she's fine, but she isn't 100%. The physician told us in private that she wasn't fully healed yet." His tone wasn't angry, but there was a firmness to it that made me feel guilty.
Sighing heavily, I muttered, "It was automatic. I just reacted. It was instinct."
Adonis, who had been standing quietly until then, finally spoke up. His voice was steady, but I could hear the tension under the surface. "How did you hurt her exactly?" he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Depending on how it went down, we might not have an issue with it."
I avoided their gazes, feeling the weight of their stares. "I threw her at the wall with... more strength than I should have," I admitted, the words heavy in my mouth. I could feel the weight of their disapproval before they even said anything. "But in my defense, I thought she would harm Elodie again!" I added, trying to justify myself, but I knew I wouldn't find much sympathy.
The silence that followed was thick and uncomfortable, each of us left to stew in our own thoughts, the tension palpable. It was clear that none of them agreed with my actions, but whether they understood them or not was a different question entirely.