Amara blinked, taking in her surroundings. "What happened? How did I get here?"
"You were nearly dead in the dungeon," came the icy response. "I brought you to safety."
Amara's eyes widened as she focused on the figure standing at the foot of her bed. Lyria, with her signature aloofness, stared down at her. The room was stark and utilitarian, a safehouse with bare walls and minimal furniture. It was nothing like the grandeur of the Vaeloria family manor, but it was safe.
"Why?" Amara croaked, still groggy from her ordeal.
"Because you were foolish enough to tackle a dungeon alone and get yourself nearly killed," Lyria replied bluntly, her expression unchanging.
"Well, I didn't exactly plan to encounter an S-rank monster in an E-rank dungeon," Amara muttered, trying to sit up.
Lyria arched an eyebrow. "And yet, you did. Your recklessness could have cost you your life."
"Thanks for the reminder," Amara said dryly. "I'll be sure to schedule my near-death experiences more carefully next time."
Lyria's lips twitched slightly, almost imperceptibly. "You should consider joining my guild."
Amara blinked again, certain she had misheard. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," Lyria said, her tone as frosty as ever. "Join my guild. You'll have access to better resources and protection."
Amara stared at her, incredulous. "Why would you want me in your guild?"
Lyria's gaze was steady, but something flickered in her eyes. "It's a logical decision. You have potential, and the guild would benefit from your abilities. You'd also be safer."
Amara couldn't help but laugh, though it came out more as a wheeze. "Safer? With you? The woman who barely speaks to anyone and whose idea of a compliment is 'You're not dead yet'?"
"Do you want the offer or not?" Lyria's tone was sharp, though there was a hint of something else—annoyance, perhaps?
Amara paused, considering. Joining Lyria's guild would indeed offer her greater protection and resources, but Lyria was a wild card. She was unpredictable, cold, and enigmatic. The offer was tempting, though. Very tempting.
"I'll think about it," Amara finally said, lying back down. "Right now, I just need to rest."
Lyria nodded curtly. "Think quickly. We'll discuss it later."
As Lyria turned to leave, Amara couldn't help but watch her, trying to decipher the mystery that was Lyria Vaeloria. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Amara alone with her thoughts and a whirlwind of emotions.
Lyria paused outside the door, her mind racing. Why did I make that offer? she wondered. She leaned against the wall, frowning. Was it really just practicality? Or something more? The thought unsettled her. She couldn't afford to be distracted, especially not by feelings she couldn't control.
Back in the safehouse's small kitchen, Lyria decided to prepare a meal for Amara. It was an unusual gesture for her, one she rarely extended to anyone. Cooking had always been a solitary activity, something she did to clear her mind and find focus.
She started by washing and peeling potatoes, her movements precise and methodical. Next, she chopped onions and garlic, the sharp scent filling the room. She added olive oil to a pan, heating it before tossing in the vegetables. As they sizzled, she retrieved some chicken breasts from the refrigerator, seasoning them with salt, pepper, and a blend of herbs.
While the chicken cooked, Lyria prepared a simple salad with fresh greens, cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, and a light vinaigrette. She arranged everything neatly on a plate, her attention to detail evident in the presentation. The final touch was a slice of warm, crusty bread.
With the meal ready, Lyria carried the plate to Amara's room. She knocked once before entering, her expression as unreadable as ever.
"I made you something to eat," she said, placing the plate on the small table next to the bed.
Amara looked at the food, then back at Lyria, surprise flickering in her eyes. "Thank you."
Lyria nodded, her face a mask of coldness. "You need to regain your strength."
Amara took a bite, savoring the flavors. "This is really good. I didn't expect you to be such a good cook."
Lyria, always maintaining her composed and cold demeanor, stood by the counter, watching Amara eat. Her eyes softened slightly as she observed the genuine enjoyment on Amara's face. "I'm glad you like it," she replied, her tone cool and measured.
As Amara continued to eat, she couldn't help but steal glances at Lyria. There was something about the way Lyria moved with such grace and precision that fascinated her. She noticed the slight twitch at the corner of Lyria's mouth, a hint of a smile that never fully formed.
Lyria walked over to clear Amara's empty plate. As she reached out to take it, their hands brushed against each other. The unexpected contact made both women freeze for a split second. Amara's eyes widened, and a playful grin spread across her face.
"You know," Amara said teasingly, "for someone who's always so composed, you sure seem a bit flustered right now."
Lyria's cheeks tinged pink, a rare sight that Amara couldn't help but find endearing. "I'm not flustered," Lyria said defensively, though the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her. She quickly turned to take the plate to the sink, but in her haste, she bumped into the edge of the counter, causing a glass of water to tip over and splash onto her clothes.
Amara stifled a giggle as Lyria's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh no, are you okay?" she asked, genuinely concerned but unable to hide her amusement.
Lyria looked down at her now wet shirt, her façade of icy control cracking even more. She let out a frustrated sigh and mumbled, "I'm fine."
Amara, sensing an opportunity to lighten the mood, grabbed a kitchen towel and approached Lyria. "Here, let me help you," she said, gently dabbing at the wet spot.
Lyria stood still, her heart pounding as Amara got closer. She felt an unfamiliar warmth spread through her at the touch of Amara's hands. Their faces were inches apart, and for a moment, Lyria forgot to breathe.
"There," Amara said softly, her voice almost a whisper as she finished drying Lyria's shirt. "All better."
Lyria looked into Amara's eyes, feeling her resolve waver. For the first time in a long while, she felt vulnerable, exposed. She wanted to stay in this moment, to explore the strange feelings bubbling up inside her, but the intensity was too much. Without another word, she stepped back, breaking the spell.
"I, uh, I need to go," Lyria stammered, her usual composure nowhere to be found. She turned on her heel and hurried out of the kitchen, leaving Amara standing there, confused but also amused.
As Lyria fled the scene, her face flushed with embarrassment, she couldn't help but curse herself for losing control. But a small part of her couldn't deny the thrill she felt from the encounter. Maybe, just maybe, Amara was starting to crack the ice around her heart.