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The Next Morning
Mirabel walked through the hall, heading to meet Tracy. Her steps faltered when the floor suddenly betrayed her—she slipped. Strong arms caught her before she could hit the ground.
Her eyes snapped up—and locked on Lucian.
For a moment, the world seemed to still. His presence suffocated her, his closeness burning against her skin. But disgust twisted inside her chest. Just looking at him makes me sick. I should get revenge on this man someday.
A cough broke the tension. Marcelo, Lucian's right-hand man, stood nearby, his eyes flicking knowingly between them. The sound jolted Mirabel back to reality. She pulled away abruptly, her face set in a scowl, and stormed off without a word.
Lucian didn't spare her a glance. His indifference cut deeper than if he had touched her.
"Ha," she muttered under her breath, her fists tightening at her sides. "Just looking at him makes me hate everything."
She spotted Tracy and hurried to her side.
"What are you doing here?" Tracy asked, holding a basket.
"I was coming to see you," Mirabel answered, her expression softening.
"Perfect. I'm delivering towels to the guard unit."
"Then let me help." Mirabel grabbed one of the baskets before Tracy could argue.
"Thank you," Tracy said with a grateful smile.
"Don't mention it. Come on, let's go."
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Guard Unit
The clang of steel and the shouts of exertion filled the training grounds. Soldiers sparred and drilled, their movements sharp and disciplined. As soon as one of the men called for a towel, Mirabel hurried forward and handed it over.
The guard looked her over curiously. "You new here?"
"Yeah," she said, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
"I'm Dave," he introduced with a grin. "And you are?"
"Mirabel."
"Nice to meet you, Mirabel. You're cute."
Heat touched her cheeks. "Thank you."
"I'd like to be your friend," Dave continued.
Mirabel hesitated, then nodded. "Um… sure."
"Good. I'll check up on you later," he said, flashing another smile before jogging back to training.
From the corner of the yard, Lucian appeared. His eyes caught the exchange. His lips curved—not into a smile, but a scoff. Without a word, he turned and walked away, his jaw set tight.
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The Garden
Later, Mirabel and Tracy settled onto a bench beside the blooming flowers. The air was fragrant, the colors vibrant in the sun.
"I love this garden," Tracy sighed.
"Me too," Mirabel said softly, letting her guard down for the first time that day.
"So, Tracy… what brought you here?"
Tracy's expression grew somber. "It's a long story."
"I'm listening. Keep it short if you like."
Tracy nodded slowly. "I was fifteen when my parents were killed by assassins. After that, I worked at a small café to survive. One day, a customer accused me of stealing her necklace. When they searched my things, the necklace was there. I knew I'd been set up by my coworkers, but no one listened. They beat me until I could barely move. That's when Lucian showed up. He stopped them, took me in, and gave me a place here."
Mirabel's heart tightened. "I'm sorry about your parents, Tracy."
Tracy gave a small smile. "It's alright. Lucian is… a good man, in his own way."
Mirabel's eyes darkened, though she forced herself not to speak aloud. Lucian. Even his name sounds like a demon. He's nothing but a monster.
Tracy tilted her head. "What about you? What brought you here?"
Mirabel's throat tightened. She shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it. It's… complicated."
Tracy reached over and squeezed her hand. "That's okay. You don't have to."
The two sat in silence, the sound of the garden filling the spaces between them—beauty and pain coexisting in the same breath.
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