The carriage rolled into Chloe's manor just as the afternoon sun bathed the gardens in a soft golden hue. As soon as Riella stepped down, Amelia rushed forward, wrapping her in a tight hug that nearly lifted her off the ground.
"You're back!" Amelia grinned. "I thought Seraphine would convince you to stay another day."
"She tried," Riella said with a chuckle. "But someone promised me stew."
Behind her, Chloe appeared, arms crossed but eyes alight. "I did no such thing. But there's lunch ready, if that's what it takes to bring you home."
They all laughed, and for a moment, the tension of the past few days melted.
Once inside, the manor's cozy warmth wrapped around Riella like a familiar shawl. The rooms were smaller than the estate's vast halls, the air lighter. Safe. Familiar.
As soon as Riella entered the bedroom she shared with Amelia, the questions began.
Amelia closed the door behind them, arms folded. "So?"
"So… what?" Riella asked, feigning innocence as she placed her bag on the bench.
Amelia narrowed her eyes. "You stayed an entire extra day. With them. With him."
"I drank tea. Listened to Seraphine talk about fashion. It wasn't a secret council of warlords."
Amelia wasn't buying it. She stepped closer, peering at her best friend's face like a hawk. "Then why are your eyes sparkling like that?"
Riella froze, caught mid-motion as she pulled the pins from her hair.
"They are not sparkling," she muttered.
Amelia arched a brow. "You've been glowing since you walked in. What happened?"
Riella hesitated. She could still feel the warmth of the morning sun, the weight of Dimitri's gaze from the window above, the silence that had spoken louder than any word.
"Nothing," she finally said. "Just… peace and flowers. It was quiet."
Amelia frowned, unconvinced. But before she could press further—
"Girls!" Chloe's voice rang out from downstairs. "Lunch is on the table, if you're done whispering like love-struck schoolgirls!"
Riella laughed, a little too quickly.
Amelia didn't miss it.
And though she said nothing more, her eyes followed Riella all the way to the door—curious, knowing.
And just a little bit worried.
The dining room in Chloe's manor was nothing like the grand halls of the estate. There were no gilded chairs or endless rows of polished silver. Instead, it was cozy—sunlight filtered through the lace curtains, casting patterned shadows across the tablecloth. A vase of fresh lilacs sat in the center of the table, and the scent of rosemary and garlic lingered in the air.
Riella took her seat beside Amelia, still brushing damp hair over one shoulder. Chloe moved between the kitchen and the table with surprising speed for someone in heels.
"I told you the cook makes the best roast chicken," she said with a proud little grin, setting down the final platter.
"You are the cook," Amelia pointed out, amused.
Chloe winked. "Exactly."
They dug in quickly, hunger sharpening after the events of the morning. For a time, the only sounds were the clinking of cutlery and the occasional murmur of delight from Amelia or Riella. The food was good. Warm, hearty, comforting in a way that made the manor feel like home again.
"You seem... different," Chloe said suddenly, eyes flicking toward Riella. "Relaxed."
Amelia nearly choked on a bite of bread.
Riella glared at her in warning before calmly sipping her water. "Maybe I just missed the food."
"Or maybe it's something—or someone—else," Amelia mumbled into her cup, but Riella kicked her lightly under the table.
"Ow!" Amelia yelped. "That wasn't necessary."
"I thought there was a bug," Riella said smoothly, not meeting her gaze.
Chloe, clearly enjoying the tension, leaned her elbows on the table. "Should I be preparing for a long, scandalous story?"
"No scandal," Riella said firmly.
"Shame," Chloe sighed. "I like a little scandal with my dessert."
They shared a laugh, but Amelia's gaze lingered. It wasn't teasing anymore—more thoughtful than anything. She was still turning over what she had seen earlier: the faint smile Riella had worn, the way her hand had hovered near her collarbone as if remembering a touch. Riella was never good at hiding things from her, not really.
But if she wasn't ready to talk, Amelia would wait.
Still, it didn't stop her from watching.
"You know," Chloe began between bites of roasted vegetables, "Seraphine doesn't strike me as someone who talks about dresses and love stories. She's too... poised. Regal."
"She's not as rigid as she looks," Riella replied, choosing her words carefully. "She's... odd. In a good way."
"She's beautiful," Amelia said.
"She's terrifying," Chloe countered. "She makes me want to fix my posture."
That drew laughter from both girls, and the moment lightened again.
The conversation drifted toward safer ground—memories from their childhood, the market festival that was coming up, and an embarrassing story about a nobleman who once tried to court Chloe by writing her a poem entirely made of bird metaphors.
"I think he compared my hair to a crow's wing," Chloe said, horrified. "And not in a romantic way. More like... ominous."
"I would've married him out of pity," Amelia giggled.
"I nearly buried him in the garden," Chloe replied with a smirk.
Riella listened more than she spoke. Her thoughts wandered, like lazy clouds on a quiet afternoon. She kept seeing dark eyes through tall windows. The way Dimitri had stood, unmoving, as she hugged the boys goodbye. There had been something in his gaze—unreadable, heavy.
Not longing. Not regret.
Something quieter. Sadder.
And she'd left without looking back. But she'd felt it. The weight of his stare lingering like a shadow behind her.
"You're gone again," Amelia whispered beside her, leaning close enough to nudge her arm.
Riella blinked. "No, I'm here."
"You drifted. I know your drifting face."
"I don't have a drifting face."
"You absolutely do."
Chloe raised a brow. "Should I leave the two of you to confess your undying love in peace?"
"Please do," Amelia replied quickly.
Riella groaned, but her lips twitched into a smile.
Chloe stood, gathering empty plates. "If you're done tormenting her, help me with the desserts. I made peach tarts. I had a feeling today needed something sweet."
Amelia jumped up to help, though not without sending one last knowing glance in Riella's direction.
Alone now for a breath, Riella leaned back in her chair and looked out the window. A bird flitted by, dark against the sun, wings spread wide.
She wondered if Dimitri had gone back to his study.
She wondered if he still stood at the window, watching the garden.
She wondered why the thought made her chest ache.