They entered her room quietly. Elara lay on the bed, her face pale, her breathing faint but steady, Jasper was sitting beside her. Ryen's expression darkened with worry as he took in her condition.
"What happened to her?" he asked, his voice soft. "Why is she still in bed?"
Jasper's face hardened, her tone fierce. "What are you talking about, Ryen? She's been lying here since yesterday, because of you. I almost died from your—"
Alastair raised a hand, stopping Jasper mid-sentence, and turned to Ryen. "Ryen, don't you remember what happened yesterday?"
Ryen's confusion deepened, his voice faltering. "What…what did I do?" he asked, his tone filled with genuine bewilderment.
Jasper's expression softened just slightly, but her voice was still tense as she glanced back down at Elara, who remained motionless on the bed.
Ryen stood in silence, his fist clenched as he replayed yesterday's events in his mind, a haunting question echoing in his thoughts: "What did I do?"
As he struggled to recall, a brief flashback in Alastair's voice drifted through his memory—the moment he lost control, the shock on everyone's faces, and the mysterious blue flames that enveloped Elara. Ryen's guilt weighed heavily on him, each unanswered question adding to his unease.
In the present, Elara stirred, gently opening her eyes. Beside her, Jasper sat close, gripping her hand with a warm but cautious expression. "You're awake," she said softly.
Elara blinked, taking in her surroundings, then turned to Ryen. "What was that power you used?" she asked, her voice still weak. "The flame touched me…it drained every bit of energy I had."
Ryen looked at her, confused. "I…I don't know. I thought I passed out from your kick."
The room fell into an awkward silence, the tension thickening. Suddenly, a maid entered and announced, "Master Regin and Silas have arrived."
Everyone made their way downstairs, with Jasper supporting Elara. Regin took in the group, his gaze filled with concern. "How are you all holding up?" he asked.
Alastair nodded. "Elara's feeling a little weak, but I think she'll be fine after breakfast."
Regin turned to Ryen. "And you? How are you feeling?"
Ryen looked down, struggling to put his feelings into words. "I don't know…I just…" He trailed off, unable to explain the confusion clouding his mind.
Regin gave a reassuring nod. "I understand. Rest today; there's no need to train."
With Regin's orders, the group disbanded for the morning.
It was past morning Ryen stayed , watching Regin and Silas as they left the mansion. He felt a gnawing need to clear things up with Elara, so he made his way to her room, his mind swirling with guilt.
Reaching her door, he opened it slightly and stepped in, bowing deeply. "I'm sorry for what happened yesterday," he said earnestly.
Elara jumped, clearly startled. "You should at least knock before coming in!" she snapped.
"Oh, sorry!" Ryen quickly backed out, closed the door, and knocked. "May I come in?"
A pause, then a faint, amused voice from inside. "Come in."
Ryen reentered, bowing as before. "I'm sorry—for yesterday, and for not knocking."
Elara gave him a long, thoughtful look. "I can't accept your apology."
Ryen's eyes widened as he lifted his head, confused. "Why not? It wasn't intentional. I didn't even…" He trailed off, his gaze settling on her as he noticed her for the first time. She sat in a chair by the window, her hair down, wearing a yellow T-shirt that caught the sunlight. She held a bowl and spoon in her hands, her legs tucked under her, looking unexpectedly radiant.
"Why did you stop?" Elara asked, arching an eyebrow, clearly aware he was staring.
For a moment, he was speechless, taking in her stormy gray eyes and her lips—soft and pink, as she absentmindedly held the spoon in her mouth. Realizing himself, he looked away, embarrassed. "I'm…I'm sorry for staring. You…you look…magnificent."
Elara's cheeks flushed a deep red. "Rea—" She snapped out of it, scowling slightly. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Ryen quickly cleared his throat, feeling even more flustered. "Nothing, nothing. I just wanted to apologize again."
Elara's expression softened. She set down the bowl and gestured to a chair. "Hey, come sit here."
"I'm fine here," Ryen replied, still feeling uneasy.
She raised an eyebrow, giving him a challenging look. "Do you want me to accept your apology or not?"
"Alright, alright, I'm coming," he muttered, moving over and sitting on the edge of her bed. Elara, now in a more relaxed pose, drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, hiding her lower face behind her legs. Only her eyes and her smile were visible, and she seemed to be choosing her words carefully.
"I already forgave you for yesterday," she said, her voice softer now. "It wasn't your fault. You weren't fully conscious, and…well, I underestimated you."
Ryen looked down, guilt weighing heavily on him. "I'm still sorry."
Elara smiled, her voice turning teasing. "As for coming into my room without knocking…"
He looked up at her, captivated by the gentle smile she wore. His mind drifted, losing track of her words as he was drawn in by her gaze. Noticing his stare, Elara blushed. "Wh…what are you looking at?"
He snapped back to reality, mumbling, "Nothing, nothing." Rising quickly, he took a step back. "I'll take my leave now."
As Ryen closed the door behind him, Elara sat back on her bed, still blushing, clutching her pillow as she recalled the look on his face.