"Wear this?" Amara asked, holding out her jacket.
"Are you crazy?" the girl replied, a pained laugh escaping her lips.
"Yes, I am," Amara said with a hint of defiance. The girl hesitated but eventually slipped it on, confused by Amara's behavior. She had expected her to act with purpose, to fulfill the grim task ahead, but instead, Amara was acting oddly.
"We need to walk," Amara said, breaking the tension.
"Where?" the girl asked, her brow furrowed.
Amara didn't answer directly; she simply urged her forward toward Mary's tent.
When they arrived, Mary's eyes widened in shock as they entered. "Amara! What?"
"I need some help," Amara said, urgency lacing her voice.
"Are you crazy?" Mary yelled, taking a step back.
"Shush," Amara replied, her tone firm. She guided the girl to sit on the bed, while Mary pulled her aside, concern etched across her face.
"You know that you're not just disobeying the rules; this is treason in the eyes of the crown prince," Mary whispered urgently.
Amara met her gaze, unwavering. "I don't care."
Just then, Ethan entered the tent abruptly, his eyes landing on the scene before him. "Okay… We need to hide her," he said, his tone surprisingly nonchalant, as if this were a normal occurrence.
"Am I the only sane one here?" Mary exclaimed, exasperation evident in her voice.
"What's the plan?" Ethan asked, his eyes narrowing at Amara.
"I didn't really think that far ahead," Amara admitted, her voice trailing off.
"You don't even have a plan? Unbelievable," Mary shot back, frustration rising.
"Calm down," Ethan interjected, trying to steady the tension. "I can take the teleport crystal?" Amara suggested, her mind racing.
"And? From the Maxwells? How?" Mary questioned, skepticism lacing her words.
"I know where he keeps it," Amara replied, determination creeping in.
Ethan stepped closer to Amara, urgency in his voice. "Be quick. I'll hide her in here," he said, indicating the tent. Amara nodded and dashed out, her heart pounding as she ran toward her own tent.
She wasn't thinking clearly; . Once inside her tent, she felt a rush of adrenaline.
"Where were you?" a voice came from behind her. Amara whipped around to see Maxwell standing there, his tone calm yet tinged with anger.
"I was with Mary," Amara responded quickly, trying to maintain her composure.
Maxwell studied her, then sat on his bed. "Where were you running?" he asked, his voice steady and emotionless.
"Yes," Amara said, knowing lying was futile as her breaths came quick and uneven.
"Why?" Maxwell pressed, his gaze unwavering.
"I... I was running because of the snow. I didn't .... want to ... get wet," she stammered, her fear evident.
"Where is she?" Maxwell asked flatly.
"Who?" Amara replied, feigning ignorance.
"Who do you think? Do you have someone in mind?" Maxwell's tone was mocking, but his eyes remained piercing.
"I... killed her," Amara finally confessed, her heart racing.
"Where is the body?" Maxwell's question was cold, and Amara could feel her pulse quickening.
"I buried her," she said, trying to sound convincing.
"You look clean, though. No mud, and you're quick for one person," he observed, skepticism in his voice.
"There are people who helped me," Amara said, desperation creeping in.
Maxwell smiled slightly. "Can you give me their names?"
"Mary... and Ethan," Amara replied, meeting his gaze.
His eyes softened a fraction. "Ethan? I see. So why are you running so fast, Amara?"
"Mary's clothes... She didn't have spares, ....so I told her she could use mine. I'll bring ....," Amara explained, hoping to placate him.
"You don't have to run for this," Maxwell said, his voice calm.
"It's snowing," Amara insisted.
"Fine. We need to sleep. Be quick to come to the tent. And sorry for yelling at you," he said, a hint of weariness in his tone.
Amara looked at him, shaking her head slightly. "Amara, be quick. I'm really sleepy. Give her the clothes and come to bed quickly," Maxwell urged.
She said " yes" then closed her eyes.
When she opened her eyes, she found herself in the big bed, enveloped in darkness within the lavish room. ' Another dream'
"Evren, stop doing this every time you visit me," Amara said, her voice laced with both irritation and familiarity.
"Well, everyone has a style," Evren replied, standing in front of the window, illuminated by moonlight.
.
.
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⭐ n n n n n n n ⭐ n n n n n n n n ✨ n n n n n n n 🌟 🌠 n n n n n n n ⭐ n n n n n n n n ✨ n n n n n n n 🌟 ⭐ n n n n n n n ⭐ n n n n n n n n ✨ n n n n n n n 🌟 ✴️ n n n n n n n ⭐ n n n n n n n n ✨ n n n n n n n 🌟