"I like Noel."
Selene's words lingered in the air like frost. The silence that followed was deafening.
Elena stood frozen, lips parted but voiceless. Her calm composure fractured into quiet shock.
Noel, meanwhile, wanted the earth to swallow him whole. 'Not again… this makes four times now, doesn't it? Why does this keep happening to me?'
It wasn't that he disliked Selene—far from it. It would have been strange not to.
Images rushed through his head, memories stacked like cards:
—The early mornings at the academy when he trained with his sword and Selene drilled with her wand. They never planned it, but somehow, they always ended up there together.
—The day he had "stolen" her away from her own house, defying the shadow of her cruel mother.
—The moment Selene, after years of silent suffering, had finally gathered the courage to confront that same woman.
