As the days passed, my injuries healed faster than I had anticipated. The deep gashes on my side had scabbed over, the bruises had faded to a mottled yellow, and the stiffness in my limbs was beginning to ease.
I found myself regaining more of my independence, no longer needing Ciara's assistance as much as before. While part of me reveled in the return of my strength, there was another part a smaller, quieter part that couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment.
Without the excuse of needing Ciara's constant attention, I started spending more time on my own, reflecting on everything that had happened.
The whirlwind of events, from the initial tension between us to the heated kiss in the infirmary, replayed in my mind over and over again.
I couldn't help but think about how I'd initially seen Ciara as nothing more than a reckless, arrogant warrior who thrived on chaos and flirting with anything that moved. But now… now I wasn't so sure.
There was a side to Ciara that I had glimpsed in those quieter moments, a side she seemed to hide from everyone else.
The way she would check on me without making it obvious, the subtle concern in her eyes when she thought I wasn't looking, the almost imperceptible softness in her voice when she asked if I was okay all of it made me question the image I had of her.
Ciara was a puzzle, and with each passing day, I found myself more and more intrigued by the pieces.
I would catch myself thinking about her at odd times during my morning stretches, while I reviewed reports in Leora's office, or even when I was supposed to be resting. It was as if she had lodged herself into my thoughts, refusing to leave. And the more I thought about her, the more conflicted I became.
Because while I was beginning to see the layers beneath her brash exterior, I couldn't ignore the fact that Ciara was, at her core, a wild card. Unpredictable. Uncontrolled. Dangerous.
She was the type of person who could turn your world upside down without a second thought, and I wasn't sure if I could handle that kind of chaos in my life. I wasn't sure if I wanted to.
Yet, despite my reservations, I couldn't help the way my heart fluttered whenever she was near. It was maddening.
One afternoon, as I was organizing the last of the documents in Leora's office, I heard the door creak open behind me.
I turned to see Nathaniel standing there, leaning casually against the doorframe with that charming smile of his that seemed to make everyone else swoon. Everyone except me.
"Aeliana," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "You're looking well. Fully healed, I take it?"
"Almost," I replied, turning back to my work. I had no desire to engage in whatever game he was playing.
Nathaniel had a reputation, one that rivaled Ciara's, but without the rough edges. He was polished, refined, and calculating everything Ciara wasn't. And that was precisely why I wasn't interested.
Nathaniel stepped further into the room, his presence demanding attention even though I was determined not to give it to him. "I've noticed you've been spending less time with Ciara lately," he commented, his tone casual, but I could sense the underlying curiosity.
I shrugged, not bothering to look up from the stack of papers I was sorting. "I'm healing. I don't need her help as much anymore."
"Ah, yes. But you know, Ciara's not the only one who can offer assistance. If you ever need anything, I'm more than happy to help." His voice dipped into a lower register, the flirtation unmistakable.
I sighed, finally looking up at him. "I appreciate the offer, Nathaniel, but I'm fine. Really."
He didn't seem deterred by my lack of enthusiasm. Instead, he moved closer, his eyes lingering on mine. "You've grown stronger, Aeliana. It's… impressive."
"Thank you," I said, my voice cool and distant. I didn't need his compliments, and I certainly didn't need whatever it was he was trying to offer.
Nathaniel's gaze didn't waver, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes something calculating, as if he were trying to figure me out.
"You know, Aeliana," he began, his voice softer now, "you deserve someone who can appreciate you. Someone who understands your strength."
There it was, the subtext beneath his words. He was offering himself as that someone, subtly insinuating that Ciara wasn't right for me, that she was too wild, too reckless, too dangerous.
And while a part of me knew he wasn't entirely wrong, the thought of entertaining Nathaniel's advances made my skin crawl. He was too smooth, too practiced, and I didn't trust him as far as I could throw him.
"Ciara understands more than you might think," I replied, my tone sharp enough to cut through the tension.
Nathaniel's eyes narrowed slightly, but he quickly masked it with a smile. "Of course. I didn't mean to imply otherwise."
"Good," I said, my voice firm.
Nathaniel took a step back, clearly realizing he wasn't going to get anywhere with me. "Well, if you ever change your mind," he said, his tone returning to its usual charming lilt, "you know where to find me."
I didn't bother responding as he left the room, the door clicking shut behind him. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, my thoughts immediately drifting back to Ciara. No matter how many others tried to sway me, no matter how many flirtatious advances I had to fend off, my mind always returned to her.
The truth was, despite my initial irritation with her brash attitude and constant teasing, I had come to care about Ciara in a way that surprised me. It wasn't just attraction though there was plenty of that, much to my own confusion.
It was something deeper, something that made me want to see past her rough exterior to the person she hid underneath.
And that was dangerous. Very dangerous. Because caring about Ciara meant putting myself at risk.
She was a heartbreaker, someone who moved from one conquest to the next without a second thought. I had seen it happen before hell, I'd heard the stories. And yet, despite all the warning signs, I found myself drawn to her like a moth to a flame.
But I wasn't naïve. I knew that getting too close to Ciara could mean getting burned. I couldn't afford to lose myself in whatever this was, not when there was so much at stake. I had my duties, my responsibilities, and I couldn't let my emotions cloud my judgment.
And yet… I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to let go, just for a moment. To see where this thing with Ciara could go, even if it was destined to end in disaster. Because the thought of walking away, of never knowing what could have been, was almost as terrifying as the thought of getting too close.
I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts as I returned to organizing the papers in front of me. I needed to focus, to ground myself in something concrete. But even as I tried to push Ciara out of my mind, I knew it was a losing battle.
As the days went on, I found myself avoiding Ciara more and more, telling myself it was for the best. The distance gave me space to think, to sort through my feelings without the constant distraction of her presence.
But even as I tried to convince myself that I was doing the right thing, I couldn't ignore the ache in my chest whenever I saw her from across the courtyard, laughing with the other soldiers or training with that fierce intensity that had initially drawn me to her.
I missed her. I missed the way she made me laugh, the way she challenged me, the way she made me feel alive in a way I hadn't felt in a long time. And that realization terrified me.
Because I knew that if I let myself fall for Ciara, there would be no going back. She was the type of person who could take your heart, twist it up, and leave you with nothing but pieces. And yet, despite all of that, I couldn't bring myself to walk away completely.
One afternoon, as I was finishing up some work in the library, I heard footsteps approaching. I looked up, my heart skipping a beat as I saw Ciara standing in the doorway, her eyes locking onto mine with that intense gaze that always made my breath catch.
"Hey," she said, her voice softer than usual. "I've been looking for you."
I swallowed, trying to keep my voice steady. "I've been… busy."
She stepped into the room, closing the distance between us with that effortless grace she had. "Too busy to see me?"
I felt a pang of guilt, but I pushed it down. "I needed some time. To think."
"About what?" she asked, her eyes searching mine.
I hesitated, unsure of how to put my thoughts into words. "About us. About what this is."