Deborah's POV
Walking alongside Barron along the carefully maintained pathways of the garden, I couldn't help but notice the perfection of every flower lining the way. Each blossom seemed sculpted, with colors so vivid that they felt almost unnatural. It was a scene meticulously designed to impress, yet I felt no awe or admiration.
These flowers, though undeniably beautiful, lacked the vitality and authenticity of those that grew freely on the ground. They were too perfect, too controlled, and it was that very perfection that rendered them lifeless in my eyes.
Barron's steps slowed beside me. He tilted his head slightly, stealing glances at my face as though trying to decipher my thoughts. "You don't seem to like the flowers," he said finally, his tone tinged with confusion. "I thought all girls loved flowers."
I stopped walking and turned to face him, my expression composed, though inwardly I couldn't help but be amused by his naivety. "That has nothing to do with being a girl," I replied, my tone measured yet laced with a hint of irony. "Everyone admires beautiful things. But…" I glanced around at the surrounding blooms, my lips curling into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "If you've seen the flowers on the ground, you'd feel the same way I do about these."
"The flowers on the ground?" he repeated, his voice now tinged with curiosity. "That makes sense. I mean, most of these seeds came from there. But… what are they like?"
I could see the spark of genuine interest in his eyes. He wasn't asking out of politeness—he truly wanted to know. Before I could answer, though, he pressed on, almost eagerly. "What about underground? Are there flowers in the underground cities?"
His enthusiasm caught me off guard. I shook my head slowly, directing my gaze toward the distance, where the light of the garden lamps melted into the encroaching night. "No," I said quietly, my voice softening. "There are no flowers underground. There's no sunlight, no space for life to grow like this. Down there, survival itself is a luxury. People are too busy staying alive to think about things like flowers."
My words hung in the air, a stark contrast to the serene beauty of the garden. When I looked back at him, I saw that his expression had changed. His usual boyish confidence had faded, replaced by an uncharacteristic vulnerability. He met my gaze, and for a brief moment, I saw a flicker of something unexpected—sympathy, maybe even guilt.
He hesitated, then asked, "Which underground city were you in?"
"Murias," I replied, keeping my tone casual, as though it was just another detail, insignificant and mundane.
His brows furrowed. "Murias?" he repeated, a note of disbelief creeping into his voice. "I heard that was one of the Lee family's cities. But… the Lee family…"
He trailed off, but the weight of his unfinished sentence lingered. My heart skipped a beat, though I maintained a composed facade. "The Lee family?" I echoed, tilting my head slightly as if puzzled. "What about them?"
I leaned in ever so slightly, feigning curiosity. "I've only recently come to the Sky Cities. I don't know much about what happened before. Can you tell me?"
It wasn't difficult to lace my words with just the right mix of innocence and eagerness. The trick was to appear just naïve enough to earn his trust without raising suspicion.
Barron hesitated, clearly debating whether or not to continue. But my open expression seemed to reassure him, and after a moment, he sighed. "Well, originally, the Sky Cities were ruled by five families, not three. The Lee family and the Blackwood family were the other two."
"Five families?" I repeated, raising my eyebrows as though this was entirely new information. "So what happened to the Lee and Blackwood families? Did they find somewhere else to survive?"
He shook his head, his lips curving into a bitter smile. "It's not that simple. You know how hard it is to survive outside the Sky Cities. We're lucky to have found places above the Enigma radiation. Building these cities was already a miracle."
"And the two families?" I pressed, my voice steady but softer now, as though his answer didn't matter as much as the conversation itself.
"I don't know all the details," Barron admitted, his eyes dropping to the ground. "But from what my parents have told me, it was some sort of virus. Both cities were completely wiped out."
"A virus?" I repeated, my voice tinged with disbelief, though internally, my mind raced. Virus. It was the perfect excuse—a clean, unquestionable explanation for the destruction of two entire families. But I knew better. It wasn't a virus. It was genocide, hidden behind a veil of lies.
The Sky Cities had painted themselves as sanctuaries of progress, yet beneath the surface, they thrived on bloodshed and betrayal. Blackwood and Lee… two families erased not by chance, but by design.
Barron shifted uncomfortably, misinterpreting my silence as shock. "I don't know much more than that," he said quickly, as though trying to fill the void. "You have to understand, I'm the youngest in my family. My brothers and sisters handle the serious matters. I'm just… here."
He laughed, though the sound was hollow. "Honestly, if they weren't all married, I wouldn't even be at events like this. I'd be the last person they'd send to… well…" He hesitated, his cheeks flushing slightly. "To meet someone like you."
It was hard to tell whether he was embarrassed or frustrated. Perhaps both. Either way, his honesty caught me off guard.
"But," he continued, his tone more thoughtful now, "I've never cared much about what goes on up here. The politics, the families… none of it matters to me. What I care about are the places we've forgotten—what's left of the ground, the underground cities…"
His voice trailed off, and I found myself staring at him, genuinely intrigued. Barron's perspective was unexpected, especially for someone born into the privilege of the Sky Cities.
Before I could respond, a sound from behind drew my attention. I turned, and there he was—Chad.
His tall frame cast a shadow over the garden's glowing lanterns, and even from a distance, I could see the tension in his posture. He walked with the same deliberate, measured steps as always, his face an unreadable mask. But as our eyes met, I caught something fleeting in his expression.
Frustration? Annoyance?
Or perhaps jealousy.
The thought made me pause. I studied his face, searching for confirmation, but he quickly looked away, his jaw tightening. Whatever emotion had surfaced, it was already buried.
I stood, smoothing the folds of my dress as Barron followed my lead. Chad's voice was steady and formal as he addressed me. "Miss Edwards, it's getting late. Would you like me to escort you back to Ablach?"
This was a joke, plain and simple.
Tonight's banquet had been orchestrated with such precision, the intent as blatant as the glittering chandeliers above us. Both families were clearly eager to solidify this alliance, practically itching to finalize the arrangement before the night was over. And now, out of nowhere, Chad appeared, feigning concern about the time? It was laughable.
No, this wasn't about time or logistics. This was Lugh's ploy—his way of keeping an eye on things, ensuring that every detail of this evening proceeded as planned. But Chad? Chad had his own reasons. He wasn't here to remind me of schedules or deadlines. This was his excuse to interrupt, to cut short whatever he thought was unfolding between Barron and me.
His timing, his tone, even the stiff way he held himself—it all screamed one thing: he couldn't stand the idea of me and Barron alone together.
His words were courteous, but his tone carried a subtle edge. It was a challenge, though one so carefully veiled that it could easily be dismissed as concern.
I raised an eyebrow, meeting his gaze briefly before he looked away again. Did he really expect me to leave now, in the middle of this conversation? It was laughable.
Before I could respond, Barron stepped forward, his voice rising in protest. "Deb, you should stay here a few days! My mother even prepared a guest room for you. It's right over there, overlooking the garden." He gestured toward a large window that offered a view of the glass-enclosed conservatory.
Chad's eyes flicked toward the direction Barron had pointed, then back to me. His expression remained neutral, though I could sense the tension radiating from him. "Miss Edwards," he said evenly, "the journey back to Ablach takes several hours. If we leave now, it will be quite late by the time we arrive."
I glanced between the two of them, weighing my options. Barron was proving to be a valuable source of information, and I wasn't ready to cut this conversation short. On the other hand, keeping Chad close could also be to my advantage, especially when dealing with Lugh.
Finally, I turned to Barron and offered a faint smile. "That sounds lovely. I'll stay here for a few days."
Then, turning to Chad, I added, "Please inform my father. And while you're at it, have the maids pack my belongings and bring them here tomorrow."
Chad's eyes darkened slightly, but he bowed his head in acknowledgment. "Understood, Miss Edwards."
I didn't wait for his reaction. Taking Barron's arm, I walked toward the guest quarters, the faint sound of Chad's footsteps fading behind me.
This extended version adds significant depth to the interactions and the characters' emotional undercurrents, ensuring it surpasses the required word count while maintaining a rich, engaging narrative tone. Let me know if there's anything more to adjust!