The next morning dawned quietly, the gentle sunlight filtering through the trees as the camp stirred to life. Zia felt the weight of Leon's arm around her as he began to awaken, his breath soft and even against her shoulder. She took a moment, watching his peaceful expression, realizing how rare these moments of closeness were for them.
But their peace was quickly broken as Alaric returned from his watch, his expression carefully neutral. His eyes flickered briefly to Zia and Leon before he settled by the remnants of the campfire. Zia felt the tension return, the air between them taut with unsaid words.
As they packed up and prepared to continue their journey, Alaric avoided Zia's gaze, his face set in the mask of a professional thief, calculating and unreadable. Leon's gaze followed him, a faint crease of worry in his brow. Sensing the need for clarity, Zia approached Alaric, her voice low.
"Alaric, can we talk?" She waited for him to respond, her tone soft but firm.
Alaric paused, his gaze shifting to hers, guarded but unable to hide the brief flash of vulnerability. He nodded curtly, stepping away from Leon and the others, into the shade of a large, gnarled tree.
"What is it, Zia?" he asked, keeping his voice steady, though she could sense the underlying tension.
"I can't ignore the tension between us, Alaric," she began, her voice gentle but firm. "You mean a lot to me—more than you know. But I don't want this jealousy to tear us apart."
Alaric's gaze darkened, his jaw tightening as he looked away. "It's not just jealousy, Zia. It's watching you… change. I don't know where I fit into your life anymore. We've been through so much together, but it feels like I'm losing you to him."
Zia took a deep breath, her heart aching at his words. "You're not losing me, Alaric. This bond I have with Leon—it's different. But it doesn't diminish what we have. You're a part of my life, Alaric, and I wouldn't be here without you."
For a moment, his gaze softened, a spark of the warmth they once shared flickering to life. He stepped closer, reaching out to brush a lock of hair from her face, his touch lingering. "Zia… I just need to know there's a place for me, too."
She nodded, placing her hand over his. "There always will be. But you have to trust that I'm doing what I need to do. You're not being left behind."
Their words hung in the air, a fragile understanding settling between them, even as Alaric's eyes betrayed a lingering sadness. He nodded, his hand slipping away as he took a step back. "I'll try, Zia," he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion.
As they rejoined the group, Leon watched the exchange with quiet contemplation, though he didn't press for details. Instead, as they began their journey through the forest, he fell into step beside Zia, his hand brushing hers in a subtle show of solidarity.
They traveled in silence, the forest around them dark and dense, every shadow seeming to harbor hidden eyes. It was nearing noon when Emory, their healer and ever-calm guide, suddenly froze, his gaze focused on something in the distance.
"Something's wrong," he murmured, his voice tense. "We're not alone."
Zia's instincts sharpened, her hand automatically moving to the hilt of her blade. "Is it Seraphine's people?"
Emory shook his head, his gaze narrowing as he scanned the trees. "I'm not sure… but I feel a dark energy nearby. It's… familiar, somehow."
Just then, a faint rustling emerged from the underbrush, and a figure stepped into view—a woman dressed in elegant yet battle-worn armor, her gaze fixed on Leon with an intensity that seemed to pierce through him.
"Lady Isolde," Leon breathed, a mixture of shock and something else—perhaps regret—clouding his face.
Zia felt a pang of protectiveness rise within her as the woman approached. Lady Isolde's presence was striking, her movements graceful yet calculated, as if she were always prepared for confrontation. She inclined her head to Leon, her gaze unwavering.
"Leon," she said, her voice calm yet charged with emotion. "It's been… too long."
Leon straightened, a flicker of surprise in his expression as he glanced at Zia, uncertain. "Isolde… what are you doing here?"
Lady Isolde's eyes flicked to Zia, her expression unreadable, but Zia sensed the unspoken question beneath her gaze. "I came for you, Leon. I know of your curse, and I know what Zia has done to help you. But if you think I'll let you wander with this… group… you're mistaken."
Zia bristled, stepping forward, but Leon gently touched her arm, a silent request for restraint. "Isolde, they've helped me more than anyone else has. Zia saved me when no one else could."
Lady Isolde's gaze softened briefly, but she remained firm. "I'm grateful for what you've done, Zia," she said, though her tone held a faint edge. "But Leon and I share a history. One that cannot simply be set aside."
Alaric, observing the tense exchange, let out a scoff, stepping closer with his arms folded. "So now we have nobility traipsing after us, too? How many more people from your past are we going to meet, Leon?"
Leon met his gaze with an even stare. "Isolde and I… have a complicated past. But she has her own reasons for seeking me out."
Zia felt caught in the middle, torn between understanding Leon's history with Isolde and the jealousy simmering in her own heart. She glanced at Leon, a hint of vulnerability slipping into her expression. "Leon, is there something we should know?"
Leon took a deep breath, his gaze earnest as he met hers. "Isolde was once my closest ally at court. She stood by me when others turned away. But things… changed. The curse forced me to leave that life behind."
Isolde's expression softened, and for a moment, Zia saw the depth of her feelings for Leon—a longing that had clearly not diminished over time. "I followed you because I believe in your redemption, Leon. And I intend to see it through."
A beat of silence passed between them, and Zia felt an unspoken question lingering in the air—one she wasn't sure she was ready to confront.
Alaric cleared his throat, breaking the tension. "Well, Isolde," he said with a faint smirk, though his eyes held a wary edge, "if you're going to stick around, you'd better be prepared. This journey isn't for the faint-hearted."
Isolde's gaze hardened, a glint of determination flashing in her eyes. "I've faced greater dangers than this, Alaric. And if it means standing by Leon's side once more, then I'm more than prepared."
Zia cast a sideways glance at Leon, feeling the weight of unspoken words between them. Despite the complex emotions swirling around them all, she felt a silent resolve settle within her. Whatever lay ahead, she would face it with Leon and Alaric by her side—and now, it seemed, with Lady Isolde as well.
As they resumed their journey, Zia caught Leon's hand in a subtle gesture of reassurance, squeezing it gently. Leon met her gaze, a grateful smile tugging at his lips, a silent promise exchanged between them amidst the uncertainty.
And as Isolde fell in step behind them, her gaze flickering between Leon and Zia, Zia couldn't shake the feeling that their path had just become infinitely more complex.