I opened my eyes, instantly aware of the difference in my surroundings. The dull, throbbing pain that had consumed me before I passed out had lessened, replaced with a distant ache. The air smelled cleaner, fresher—far from the damp, musty odor of the cramped cell where I had spent the past few days.
I slowly turned my head and saw someone resting beside me, their head resting on the bed near my side. The sight was strange—comforting but unfamiliar in a way.
Who is that?
I shifted my fingers first, testing my ability to move. The muscles in my arm protested, but I pushed through it. I needed to know where I was, and more importantly, who was with me. As I tried sitting up, the person next to me stirred, lifting their head groggily.
"Keara?" I whispered, still unsure if I was truly awake or caught in another dream.
Her eyes widened as they met mine. She gasped softly, then lunged forward, wrapping her arms around me in a hug so tight it almost knocked the breath out of me. I didn't care—I hugged her back, holding on as though she might disappear if I let go.
Please don't let this be another dream. Don't let this be another illusion.
She pulled away slowly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Her face was a mix of relief and sadness, as though she had been carrying a heavy burden all this time.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice shaky. "You might not remember me, but I'm just so glad to have you back."
Oh, right. She still thinks I don't remember her. Should I tease her? No, not now. I miss her too much for that.
"Keara, what do you mean?" I said, my voice more steady than I expected. "Of course, I remember you."
She blinked, stunned, as if my words were too good to be true.
"I—I'm so sorry for the things I did… the hurtful things," I continued, my chest tightening as I spoke. "I never wanted to hurt you."
Keara's lips trembled, and her eyes overflowed with tears. "It's good to have you back," she said, her voice cracking. She sniffed, wiping her face quickly, embarrassed by her tears, but I didn't mind. Happy tears—they were happy tears this time.
…
As the day went on, I couldn't help but feel restless. Even though I was back in familiar company, there was an undeniable tension pulling at me. I had just woken up, but the gnawing anxiety that gripped my heart wouldn't let go. It felt as though if I didn't leave soon, I might lose something—my memories, my sense of self, my freedom.
Keara and I had been invited to dinner with the king of Dirmil, and while I knew I should be grateful, all I really wanted was to get out of here. A part of me felt deeply indebted to him; after all, if not for his intervention, I might have died in that cell. But something about staying felt wrong. I wanted to thank him and leave as soon as possible.
"Keara, do you think it'd be rude to ask if we can leave after dinner?" I asked as we walked down the hall toward the dining room. My palms were sweating. I couldn't figure out if it was nerves or if something else was stirring inside me.
"No," she replied casually, not even looking at me.
"Really? It won't offend him?" I asked again, the doubt creeping back in.
"It's fine, Lilien," she said more firmly this time. "You're not obligated to stay longer than you want to. You've been through a lot."
Her words should have been reassuring, but they weren't. I still felt torn, guilty even. Was it ungrateful of me to want to leave so quickly? Yet, staying didn't feel right either. I was restless, as if the longer I remained here, the harder it would be to leave.
When we reached the dining room, the king was already seated, waiting for us. His presence, regal and imposing, filled the room. I curtsied out of respect, though my body felt sluggish and off balance.
'He's… giving off main character in love aura,' I thought, eyeing him discreetly. Is he one of those stoic male leads? But he's a king—he must be married, right?
"Please, take your seat, Your Majesty," the king said, his voice deep and authoritative, but not unkind.
"Thank you, Your Majesty," I responded, sitting down opposite him. The awkwardness of the moment settled over me, and I tried not to fidget.
"I received reports about how you were treated," he began, his expression softening slightly. "I would like to apologize on behalf of my people."
"Oh no, Your Majesty," I quickly shook my head, trying to ease the tension. "There's no need. They were only doing what they thought was best for their country."
"Please, call me Tristan," he said.
His words caught me off guard. I glanced at Keara, unsure how to respond, but her face remained impassive. I couldn't tell if she was comfortable with this situation or not.
"Oh, uh… Then call me Lilien," I said, doing my best to match his informality. "Once again, thank you for your hospitality."
There was a slight pause, and I could see he was studying me, perhaps trying to understand what I was thinking. The room was filled with a strange tension, like something unspoken was hanging in the air between us.
"It's my pleasure, Lilien," he said, smiling slightly. "However, I'd still like to apologize for my people's actions. I thought, perhaps, while you are here, you could—"
"We'll be leaving tomorrow," Keara interrupted, her tone cold and unyielding.
Her words sliced through the conversation like a knife. There was no hint of politeness, just a straightforward declaration.
"But—" Tristan began, his brow furrowing slightly.
"I appreciate your help, Your Majesty," Keara continued, her voice firm. "But we've overstayed our welcome."
"You are always welcome here," he said, though his tone was tighter now, more strained. The tension was palpable.
"Lilien would prefer to leave as soon as possible," she pressed, crossing her arms as if daring him to argue further.
"She just woke up," Tristan countered, his voice a touch more forceful. "Staying a little longer won't hurt. In fact, some might see leaving so soon as running away."
"Oh, we didn't realize," Keara shot back, her words dripping with sarcasm. "It's just that some can tell when they are no longer truly welcome."
Wait a minute. What is this? Were they… having moments while I was gone? Or is this tension something that's been here all along? How did I miss this?
"I can't force you to stay," Tristan said after a long pause.
"No, you can't," Keara responded coolly. "And I can't force you to accept it either."
Her sharp retort hung in the air, the conversation stalling for a moment before I finally spoke up, my voice much softer than either of theirs.
"Thank you again, Your Majesty… Tristan," I said, hoping to ease the tension, though I knew it wouldn't do much.
They both turned to me, but it was clear that whatever battle of wills was happening between them wasn't over yet.
I thought we were done with this. Clearly, I missed something big.