Moonlight bled through the window, painting long, accusing shadows across the floor. Astra stirred, the ache in her muscles a testament to her fever. Pushing herself into a sitting position, her breath caught.
Eydis.
Cradled in the leather sofa, she was a vision of serenity, bathed in moonlight. Astra's gaze traced the familiar lines of her face, from the sweep of lashes fanning her cheek to the straight bridge of her nose. An illicit heat flared in her fingertips, begging her to trace those curves, to feel the forbidden warmth beneath her touch. She clenched her fists, her gaze lingering on Eydis's lips, rosy and inviting, still tinged with the salty memory of that shared kiss by the tower.
Resuscitation, she promptly corrected herself.
A guttural growl betrayed Astra's hungry stomach. Eydis's eyes blinked open, revealing a mask of light teasing, yet Astra saw the flicker of worry beneath. "I thought you'd never wake up," her voice a melodious chirp that couldn't hide the undercurrent of concern.
Astra cleared her throat, her voice a husky murmur, "I'm...hungry."
"Conveniently, so do I," Eydis murmured, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. "As it happens, I was hoping we could have dinner." Her hand, surprisingly strong and warm, dipped low, fingers tracing the curve of Astra's hip before settling possessively around her waist. The touch was both electrifying and unwelcome, a spark igniting in the pit of her stomach even as a tremor of surprise shot through her.
Their eyes met, a silent battle raging within their depths. Eydis's smile, knowing and playful, dared Astra to resist. But beneath the surface, a flicker of uncertainty danced in her gaze. "May I help you up?" she asked.
Astra, her voice a defiant tremor, countered, "A bit late to ask that, wouldn't you say?"
Eydis's reply was a slow smile. "Perhaps," she breathed, her lips brushing Astra's ear in a tantalising tease. "Forgive my…impatience."
Astra grumbled, but the fight drained from her limbs as if consumed by the heat radiating from Eydis' touch. With a gentle tug, she guided Astra towards the moonlit tea table overlooking the ocean waves.
Sitting down, Astra winced, her gaze falling on a plate piled with cold steak, limp salad, and stale bread. Hunger gnawed at her, raw and primal, but another hunger, one she'd tried to bury, stirred beneath. She devoured the water, the cool liquid a brief respite from the inferno within. Eydis watched intently, her own seafood untouched.
"Aren't you going to eat?" Astra mumbled, voice muffled by a mouthful of bread, it was surprisingly tasty.
The brunette shrugged, a playful glint in her eyes. "I was…analysing." Seeing Astra's raised eyebrow, she continued, "Whether that meal in front of you is enough. You may need more to satiate your hunger." Her gaze drifted from the food to Astra's amethyst eyes, lingering there a beat too long. "All of it."
The serpent, a mere whisper before, roared in Astra's mind. The taste of salt on skin, the heat of shared breath, the forbidden thrill of succumbing to desire. It was a promise against the voice of reason. For the first time, Astra considered it, seriously considered it. But then, reality gnawed at the edges of her fantasy. Eydis wouldn't mean it. It was teasing, a game. And, oh gods, there was calamari in her mouth.
Eydis fed her, each spoonful accompanied by a playful quip or a teasing glance. Astra found herself devouring not only her own meal but also Eydis's, as if drawn in by the brunette's magnetic presence. When her plate was empty, Astra licked her lips, her amethyst eyes meeting Eydis's. "How did you get to my room?" Her voice was low, a husky whisper against the silence.
Eydis chuckled, her gaze lingering on Astra's lips. "You skipped breakfast and lunch, as if the world has turned upside down, my Lady."
Astra surprised herself by replying with a soft chuckle, "I didn't know you kept such tabs on my whereabouts."
The teasing glint in Eydis's eyes widened. "It's hard not to," she purred, "when your roommate throws out enough dazzling light to drown out the stars."
Heat crept up Astra's neck, and she quickly changed the topic. "I guess that treasure hunt took a toll on my body," she mumbled.
Eydis, however, wasn't fooled. "And here I thought you, of all people, were untouchable," she quipped, a question lingering on her lips that Astra chose to ignore.
Instead, Astra shrugged. "We are limited by our own biology, are we not?" she said, seeking refuge in the familiar territory of logic.
A flicker of understanding crossed Eydis's features, her smile softening. "That is something we both agree on," she admitted, her voice losing its playful edge. "Say, Lady Astra, do you believe in free will?"
Astra raised an eyebrow. "Another philosophical musing, Eydis?" she asked, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Maybe it wasn't the treasure hunt but your astrophysical queries that got me into this mess."
Eydis laughed, a genuine melody filling the air, a sound that had become increasingly frequent in their days together. "And here I thought you didn't understand a thing about astrophysics," she teased.
Astra, once one of the noblest ladies of the empire, wasn't a slacker, but neither was she oblivious. "I got the gist of it," she replied with a wry smile. Then, seeing the expectant look in Eydis's eyes, she sighed. "Fine, if this causes another fever, you're bringing me dinner every day!"
Eydis's eyes lit up like constellations. "I'd gladly have a daily dinner date with you regardless, roomie," she purred, her voice dropping to a seductive whisper.
Astra growled, a blush threatening to creep onto her cheeks. "Free will? Perhaps it's just an illusion," she countered, trying to regain control of the conversation. "Brains wired by genetics, experiences, a tapestry woven before we even draw our first breath… where, in that tangled mess, is there room for the whims of 'choice'?"
Her words, intended as a shield, seemed to ignite a fire in Eydis's eyes. They burned with a desperate urgency, the kind that makes shadows writhe and moths fly into flames. "But chance?" she whispered, her voice trembling like a ship caught in a sudden squall. "The rogue wave that crashes onto our carefully laid plans? What of that?"
That would be you, Astra thought, but the words died on her tongue, a venomous viper unwilling to slither out of its nest. Instead, she offered a curt, "Elaborate."
Eydis's voice dropped to a conspiratorial hush, her gaze boring into Astra like a cosmic drill. "If our choices are but echoes of our ancestors," she whispered, "could a being who holds all memories captive predict our next step, before we even take it? Could it predict exactly what we're saying, right now?"
The ground beneath Astra shifted, not from physical movement, but from the dizzying realisation of Eydis's quest. Why this obsession with fate and premonition? Was it simply a philosophical contemplation between free will and determinism, or was it something else? A deeper undercurrent confirming her questions about the fabric of this world? A war raged within her, logic grappling with intuition, fear with a strange, reckless desire to trust.
Trust. It was a luxury she dared not to venture. She grudgingly acknowledged that under that violet sky, she might have walked the same path as Eydis. Hell, she'd orchestrated the damn game of deception. But to bridge the gap between understanding and trust felt like walking on a thin rope blindfolded. One misstep, one misplaced faith, and everything they had built could crumble to dust.
Could she afford the luxury of trust, when the cost could be everything?
"Perhaps," she whispered, her fist clenching in the shadows, "it could." The words were a gamble, a bridge built over a raging torrent, but she had no choice but to take a leap of faith.
Eydis's eyes widened, gears in her mind clicking into place like a clockwork. A missing piece of the puzzle found its slot, settling with a soft thud that echoed in the silence. Then, her voice, raw and primal, cut through the stillness. "What makes you say that?"
Astra fought the urge to retreat, to shield herself from the intensity of Eydis's gaze. This revelation, once buried deep within her, threatened to bloom into a weapon used against her. But there was no hiding now. "It's logical," she curtly explained, her voice laced with steel, a veiled warning woven into reason.
Stay away from the royals, Eydis.
Amber eyes burned with a fire that threatened to engulf Astra whole. For a moment, she saw a version of Eydis she didn't recognize, a stranger stripped bare of the playful facade, consumed by a purpose both terrifying and captivating. Yet, the storm quickly subsided, replaced by a deep well of gratitude that made Astra's breath catch.
"Thank you," Eydis whispered, her voice thick with a torrent of unshed emotions. "It means more than you can know."
Astra couldn't decipher the hidden meaning in those words, couldn't understand why her simple acknowledgment sparked such profound gratitude. Eydis was an enigma, her moods as changeable as the Silverkeep's weather. "I should be thanking you," she offered, her voice a gentle counterpoint to the emotions warring within.
Eydis's smile faltered, replaced by a flicker of something Astra couldn't name. Disappointment? Understanding? It vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by her trademark playful glint. "Then we are almost even," she declared, her voice a light melody that couldn't quite erase the shadows in her eyes. "But I still owe you my life."
She leaned in, their faces a breath apart, her voice dropped to a playful note. "Tell me, my Lady, what can I offer to repay this debt? Anything you wish."
Desires morphed into something sharper, something laced with the bitter taste of frustration. "Nothing," Astra snapped, her voice colder than she intended. This constant, unspoken trade of "debts" and favours grated on her, felt like a cage made of gratitude. "I need rest, Eydis. No more questions."
Eydis blinked, taken aback by the sudden hostility. Her gaze lingered on Astra, searching for the reason behind the abrupt shift. For a moment, Astra saw a flicker of hurt, of disappointment, mirroring the turmoil within her own chest. An apology hovered on the verge of her lips.
"You're right," Eydis agreed, her voice devoid of its usual vibrancy. "You need rest. We disembark tomorrow." With that, she turned and left, the door closing with a soft click that echoed in the silence.
Astra was left alone, the unanswered questions lingered. Had she revealed too much? Should she have been honest about the dangers her revelation could bring, the consequences they both might face? But even as doubt gnawed at her, a different truth, buried deep within, refused to be ignored. The fire in Eydis's eyes, the raw gratitude, the silent plea for understanding – it had touched something within Astra, a flicker of warmth amidst the icy grip of her world.
And whether she liked it or not, that spark wouldn't be easily extinguished.