Reincarnated as a Background Character — Boss Fell in Love With Me
Chapter 13: Three Days of Lies, and the First Time She Touched Him Willingly
In the Ash Court, time seemed to exist in a state of perpetual suspension. It twisted and coiled like fragrant smoke rising lazily in the air or like a serpent, slithering silently, or perhaps like a whispered threat that lingered in the shadows, waiting for the opportune moment to fully materialize. Each hour spent here was an experience drenched in the weight of formality, laced with subtle yet venomous undertones. The nobles, garbed in their fineries, smiled widely, yet their teeth glinted with a predatory sharpness that betrayed their true intentions. Conversations threaded through the air like treacherous currents, words artfully manipulated and turned sideways, rendering meanings ambiguous, concealing unwelcome truths. Shadows crept into corners where light should have danced, creating an atmosphere of foreboding and intrigue.
The Trial of Thorns had reached its conclusion, yet the heralding of the next trial had already commenced before anyone truly recognized its impending silhouette. The court buzzed with anticipation, yet they remained oblivious to the form it would take.
Velzeria withdrew from the swirl of court intrigue, though not entirely. She maintained her commanding presence, issuing orders with a firmness that resonated throughout the gathering, and standing tall and regal during meetings, offering corrections to Raze's posture with a precision that only a ruler could muster. But inwardly, something fundamental had folded in on itself, a retreat from the relentless facade expected of her.
Raze, tethered to her essence, felt the shift before he fully understood it. The once vibrant connection that had vibrated with the intensity of fire and ice alongside an unwavering pride now flickered dimly. The bond was still present, still a formidable force, yet it had grown faint, almost muted. It felt distant, as if Velzeria were bracing herself for an impending conflict that only she could foresee.
On the second evening, Raze found Velzeria lingering in the ancient observatory, perched within the highest tower of the citadel. The structure was embellished with an exquisite glass dome that offered a panoramic view over the seemingly endless expanse of ash plains beneath the watchful gaze of a shattered moon. In this secluded space, he found her unguarded—no watchful eyes of soldiers, no beguiling illusions, no crown to signify her royal status.
It was just her. Her hair fell in natural cascades around her shoulders, and her eyes stared into the distance, filled with an emptiness that suggested a deeper contemplation of her reality. She embodied a wild beauty, raw and untamed, stripped of the pretense expected in the halls of power.
"You're watching the stars," he observed in a soft murmur, careful not to break the spell of quiet that enveloped them.
"They don't move here," she responded, her voice devoid of inflection as she kept her gaze fixed outside. "In this sealed pocket of fate, they lose their freedom. They aren't stars at all. They are mere echoes—fragments of memory-light. A deceptive illusion crafted by the system to mask the transient nature of our existence."
Raze edged closer, the cold marble of the floor sending shivers through his skin.
"You came to listen to ghosts?" he probed softly.
"No," she finally admitted, her voice dropping even lower. "I came here because... here, I can't lie."
At that, she turned to face him.
And then, unexpectedly, she reached out and touched his face.
Her fingers brushed against his skin—delicate and tentative, as though her hands had never been afforded the opportunity to express gentleness.
He felt time still in that moment.
She wore no smile, lacked the armor that typically surrounded her, appearing instead as weary and authentic.
"…You're changing me," she murmured, the words barely escaping her lips.
His breath hitched. "You say that as though it's a negative thing."
"I cannot discern what it is," she replied, her uncertainty palpable. "But I know it is not something I can command or control."
The tether that connected them shimmered with an energy that was not merely magical; it was something deeper—like the tender beginnings of a haunting melody, a distant memory, or the subtle promise of danger on the horizon.
[Soul Sync: 94% — Emotional Transparency Threshold Nearing]
[Pact Status: Stable. Unpredictable.]
"You once confessed that I frightened you," Raze said softly, his voice tinged with the remnants of vulnerability. "You told me that our tethering unnerved you."
Her hand lingered, her thumb brushing against his jawline—hesitant yet unwavering.
"You still instill fear in me," she admitted.
"But not because you are a threat," he replied, hopeful yet anxious.
She swallowed hard, her unwavering gaze locked onto him.
"Then why do you feel this way?" he pressed gently, sensing the weight of her words.
"Because I might need you," she finally revealed.
This admission, more potent than any sorcery, sent tremors through the fabric of reality they inhabited, urging the world around them to wobble precariously.
That night, neither Raze nor Velzeria could find solace in sleep.
Not together—at least not yet.
Instead, they remained in the dimly lit observatory, seated side by side, sharing fragmented thoughts and lapses of silence, the very air around them heavy with unspoken truths too fragile to voice under the harsh glare of daylight.
Velzeria did not initiate another touch, but neither did she draw away or retreat to the stringent walls of her emotional armor.
And in those quiet moments, Raze mused, perhaps the shared silence packed more intimacy than words ever could.
As dawn broke, three significant developments emerged:
1. An intricately sealed raven-scroll, bearing an unfamiliar wax emblem, arrived, carrying a sense of foreboding within its folds.
2. A flickering vision manifested in his HUD—a cracked mirror reflecting a bleeding crown, accompanied by an unsettling reflection that grinned far too widely for comfort.
3. And there stood Velzeria, framed in the doorway of his quarters.
No crown adorned her head. No elaborate mask obscured her visage.
Just Velzeria—standing before him, her expression revealing that he was perhaps the only fragment of the shattered world around her that had yet to betray her trust.
[Trial II: The Mirror of Intent — Begins Tomorrow.]
Warning: Emotional Integrity Will Be Tested.
Outcome: Unknown. Damage: Permanent.
To be continued...