Layla quietly slipped out of the great hall before the celebration ended. She didn't want to draw attention.
Only the siren noticed her departure. A faint smile curved her lips before she turned her attention elsewhere.
The palace corridors stretched endlessly before Layla, their opulence pressing down on her like a gilded cage. She moved quickly, though the weight of unseen eyes lingered on her skin. Despite her confidence, unease coiled tight in her chest. This world wasn't hers. All this splendor, these glances, these power games…
She pushed open the infirmary door and stepped inside, exhaling softly as the familiar scent of herbs and medicine wrapped around her. Here, at least, she could breathe.
Her fingers trailed absently over a vial on the wooden table. A bitter smile touched her lips.
— A cell more lavish than the others, she murmured.
— Talking to yourself? That's never a good sign.
Layla startled, spinning around. Oris stood in the doorway, his dark ceremonial attire making him look even more severe. His sharp gaze locked onto hers, unreadable as always.
He stepped inside, closing the distance between them with quiet ease.
— You have a bad habit of slipping away unnoticed, he remarked. I don't recall giving you permission to leave.
Layla snorted, folding her arms.
— Oh, forgive me, Your Highness. Next time, I'll send a written request.
— See that you do.
His tone was perfectly even. Was he joking? Teasing? She could never tell with him, and it was maddening.
She huffed, glancing away.
— I just felt uncomfortable, she admitted. I prefer my lab.
For a moment, he said nothing. Then, far too casually:
— That's a shame. You looked beautiful tonight.
Layla's breath caught. Her eyes snapped back to his, searching for mockery.
— Excuse me?
— Really, he continued smoothly, stepping closer. All that was missing was a dance.
Layla let out a short laugh, shaking her head.
— Oh yes, that's exactly what I needed. A nice little waltz in the middle of a room full of strangers.
— It would have been memorable.
— For all the wrong reasons.
Oris smirked slightly, watching her with that same infuriating calm.
— I don't know. You might have surprised them.
A silence settled between them, lighter than before yet charged with something unspoken. Layla's fingers tightened around the vial, only now realizing she had been gripping it the entire time.
Then, as if deciding the conversation had gone on long enough, Oris straightened and turned toward the door.
— Try not to disappear next time.
— Try not to follow me everywhere, she countered.
He glanced back, amusement flickering in his dark eyes.
— No promises.
Then he was gone, leaving Layla staring after him, still smiling despite herself.