Walking the castle grounds with Ciara felt surreal. My legs were still a little weak, but the stiffness was easing, the pain becoming more of a dull throb than a sharp ache.
The infirmary, with its sterile, suffocating air, had become a prison, and stepping out into the open was like breathing for the first time in weeks. Yet, there was a strange irony in the fact that Ciara my once-loathsome tormentor was the one supporting me as I tried to reclaim my strength.
Her arm was solid beneath my fingers, her grip steady, though I could sense the tension in her muscles, like she was always ready to spring into action. It was reassuring, in a way, knowing she was prepared for anything.
But at the same time, it irritated me. I didn't want to need her support, didn't want to rely on her for something as basic as walking. But here I was, clutching her arm like it was the only thing keeping me from collapsing.
We walked in silence at first, the only sounds coming from the crunch of gravel underfoot and the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind.
The air was cool, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the courtyard. It should have been peaceful, a moment of calm in the midst of everything. But the tension between us made it hard to relax.
Ciara, for once, seemed at a loss for words. She usually had some biting remark ready, some sarcastic quip that would make me grit my teeth in frustration. But now, she was quiet, her gaze focused straight ahead, her jaw set in that stubborn line I had come to know so well.
I glanced up at her, trying to read her expression. Was she as uncomfortable as I was? Or was she just putting on that same indifferent mask she always wore? I couldn't tell, and that irritated me even more. Ciara had always been a mystery to me a puzzle I couldn't solve. And now, with everything that had happened between us, she was even more of an enigma.
As we neared a small fountain in the center of the courtyard, Ciara slowed her pace, giving me a chance to catch my breath.
The fountain was simple, water trickling down from a stone cherub into a shallow basin, the sound soft and soothing. Ciara led me to a bench nearby, and I sat down with a sigh, trying to ignore the fact that my legs were trembling from the short walk.
Ciara sat beside me, but not too close, leaving a careful distance between us. It was as if she was trying to be respectful, to give me space. But it only made the air between us feel even heavier, thick with all the things we weren't saying.
I hated this. Hated how awkward things had become. But more than that, I hated how much I had started to care about Ciara's opinion, how much her presence affected me. It was easier when I could just hate her, when I could see her as nothing more than a ruthless, heartless warrior. But now... now things were complicated.
"You don't have to hold my hand, you know," I said, my voice sharper than I intended. "I'm not some fragile flower."
Ciara turned her head slightly, raising an eyebrow. "I wasn't holding your hand," she replied, her tone neutral. "I was offering you support. There's a difference."
"Semantics," I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest.
She didn't take the bait, didn't rise to the challenge like she usually would. Instead, she just looked at me, her gaze steady, almost... calm. It was unsettling. Ciara was never calm. Not with me.
There was always a sharpness to her, a hardness that made it easier for me to keep my distance. But now, she seemed different. Softer, somehow. And that softness was getting under my skin in a way I didn't like.
"What's your problem?" I snapped, unable to keep the irritation out of my voice. "Why are you being so... so nice?"
She tilted her head slightly, as if considering the question. "I thought that's what you wanted," she said after a moment. "For us to try. To not be at each other's throats all the time."
I opened my mouth to argue, but the words caught in my throat. She was right. I had said that. I had been the one to suggest that we try to get along, to not let our pasts define us. But now that she was actually doing it being kind, being considerate it was throwing me off balance.
I didn't know how to deal with this version of Ciara, and it was making me uncomfortable.
"Well, it's weird," I said, my voice coming out more defensive than I intended. "You're weird."
Ciara actually smiled at that, a small, almost imperceptible curve of her lips. It was the first time I had seen her smile in a way that wasn't laced with sarcasm or condescension. It was... nice. And that made me even more annoyed.
"Maybe I am," she said, her tone light. "But I'm trying."
"Trying to do what?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at her.
"To not be such a bitch all the time," she replied bluntly.
Her honesty caught me off guard, and for a moment, I didn't know how to respond. I had expected her to brush me off, to throw back some sarcastic comment. But instead, she was being... genuine. It made me feel even more off-kilter, like the ground was shifting beneath my feet.
"Well, you're not doing a very good job," I said, though my voice lacked the usual venom.
Ciara let out a soft chuckle, and the sound was so unexpected that I found myself staring at her. "I'll take that as a compliment," she said, a hint of amusement in her voice.
I looked away, feeling a flush of heat rise to my cheeks. Damn it, why was she making this so hard? Why was she making it so difficult for me to hate her?
The silence between us stretched on, the sound of the fountain filling the space. I could feel her watching me, could feel the weight of her gaze, but I didn't dare look back at her. If I did, I wasn't sure what I would see. And that scared me.
"Why are you really doing this?" I asked after a long moment, my voice quieter now. "Why are you trying so hard?"
There was a pause, and I could sense the hesitation in her. When she finally spoke, her voice was low, almost tentative. "Because I don't want to keep making the same mistakes."
I frowned, turning my head to look at her. "What do you mean?"
She sighed, running a hand through her hair, a gesture that was more nervous than I had ever seen her. "I've spent so much time pushing people away. I thought it was easier that way, that if I didn't let anyone in, I couldn't get hurt. But... that's bullshit. It just leaves you alone. And I'm tired of being alone."
Her words hit me harder than I expected, striking a chord deep inside me. I had never thought of Ciara as someone who could feel lonely.
She had always seemed so self-assured, so independent. But now, seeing this vulnerable side of her, it made me realize that maybe she wasn't as different from me as I had thought.
"I get that," I said quietly, my gaze dropping to my hands. "I've done the same thing. Pushing people away, keeping them at arm's length. It's easier than getting hurt again."
"Yeah," she agreed, her voice soft. "But it's also fucking miserable."
I let out a short laugh, nodding. "That it is."
For a moment, we just sat there in silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts. The tension between us had shifted, softened, like a heavy weight had been lifted.
I still didn't know what to make of Ciara, didn't know if I could fully trust her. But for the first time, I felt like we were actually on the same page, like we were finally starting to understand each other.
"Look," Ciara said, breaking the silence. "I'm not good at this at being open, at letting people in. But I'm trying. And I know I've fucked up in the past, but... I want to do better. With you."
Her words were so earnest, so raw, that it took me a moment to process them. Ciara had always been guarded, always kept her emotions locked away behind a wall of sarcasm and indifference. But now, she was letting that wall down, if only a little, and it was more than I had ever expected from her.
I didn't know how to respond, didn't know what to say. Part of me wanted to forgive her, to let go of all the anger and resentment I had been holding onto. But another part of me was still wary, still afraid of getting hurt again.
"I don't know if I can trust you," I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. "Not yet. But... I'm willing to try."
She nodded, her expression serious. "That's all I can ask."
For a long moment, we just sat there, the fountain gurgling softly in the background. It wasn't a perfect resolution, and there was still so much left unsaid between us. But it was a start. And for the first time, I felt like maybe, just maybe, we could find a way forward.
Ciara stood up first, offering me her hand. I hesitated for a moment, then took it, letting her pull me to my feet.
The contact sent a jolt of electricity through me, and I quickly let go, pretending to adjust my clothes. Ciara didn't comment, just watched me with that same calm, steady gaze.
"Come on," she said, her tone lighter now. "Let's get you back inside before you overdo it."
I rolled my eyes, but didn't argue. As much as I hated to admit it, I was tired, my legs trembling slightly from the exertion.
We walked back to the castle in companionable silence, the awkwardness between us easing with each step. It wasn't perfect, and I knew we still had a long way to go. But for the first time, I felt like we were heading in the right direction.
And that, at least, was something.