Before either lord could fully conclude their discussion, their respective representatives pressed forward with an entirely different matter—one that neither Caelum nor Seraphina had expected to be brought up.
Magnus, leaning back slightly in his seat, his keen eyes watching Caelum with an air of amusement, folded his arms. "You didn't flinch," he stated plainly.
Caelum frowned, not understanding—or perhaps deliberately refusing to acknowledge—the statement. "What?"
"You didn't shift away, my lord," Magnus clarified, his tone light but unmistakably probing. "When Lady Seraphina cleaned your face."
Caelum's jaw tightened. He placed his hand against his temple, sighing heavily as if burdened with unnecessary trivialities. "It was an accident," he dismissed, his voice controlled. "There was no need to cause a scene over something so insignificant."
Magnus, however, was unconvinced. "Insignificant?" He arched a brow. "Then why did the entire table go silent? Why did you—of all people—just sit there and let it happen?"
Meanwhile, in the Crimsonvale camp, Ilyra Vesryn tapped a finger against her lips, looking at Seraphina with an unmistakable smirk.
"You cleaned his face," Ilyra mused, her golden eyes gleaming with mischief. "With a handkerchief, no less. How... unexpectedly delicate of you, Lady Seraphina."
Seraphina stiffened, her fingers twitching against the armrest of her chair. "It was instinct," she answered sharply, though the heat creeping up her neck betrayed her. "I didn't think—"
"Precisely," Ilyra cut in, her smirk widening. "You didn't think. You acted."
Seraphina narrowed her eyes. "You're implying something foolish."
"Am I?" Ilyra shrugged, leaning forward. "Because for all the decades of rivalry and bloodshed between our houses, I can't recall a single instance where either of you ever tolerated the other being within arm's reach, let alone touching each other."
A heavy silence fell in both tents.
In the Avarnel camp, Magnus exhaled a chuckle, shaking his head. "You of all people, Caelum, letting the Crimson Wraith so close without retaliation? If I didn't know better, I'd think you were growing soft."
Caelum shot him a sharp glare. "You don't know better."
Magnus only smirked, clearly entertained.
Back in the Crimsonvale camp, Seraphina crossed her arms, trying to will away the lingering heat on her face. "It means nothing."
"Of course it doesn't," Ilyra nodded sagely, though the teasing glint in her eyes remained. "And yet, I wonder why you stormed off afterward. Or why you've been avoiding even looking in his direction since then."
Seraphina's grip tightened on her sleeve.
Outside, beyond the canvas of their respective tents, the flower child laughed, running barefoot through the field as knights from both houses—who once only exchanged glares—now watched over her with quiet fondness.