Melly, who had been standing beside them all this time, could only watch the two of them with empty eyes. As if her existence meant nothing, as if the world belonged only to the two people staring at each other in silence. They stood so close, drowning in emotions she could not understand, making all the noise of the city around them feel distant and irrelevant.
People still walked by. The sound of footsteps, hushed conversations, and the smell of food from the stalls around the square were all still there. Yet for Riven and Ashtoria, it was as if all of that had vanished.
Melly had thought about cutting in, saying something, maybe even making a joke like she usually did. But she could feel the tension in the air. Something serious, something deeply personal, was unfolding between them. For the first time, she chose not to interfere.
She shifted her gaze and noticed a wooden bench not far from where they stood. She walked over, sat down slowly, and let out a long sigh of exhaustion. Her legs ached from walking and standing for so long, but that tiredness was forgotten, replaced by a curiosity she could not ignore.
From the bench, Melly watched the two of them with eyes full of interest, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips. The smile of someone who knew she was witnessing something unusual. Something she knew would change everything.
Then suddenly, Melly remembered what she had done back in the village: the woman burned alive, the storm she had summoned, and…
The image of lightning striking that woman replayed in her mind, twisting her stomach. Her feelings churned, stormy and conflicted, just like the storm she herself had called forth.
She had not yet told Riven what she had done. Not because she wanted to hide it, but because she felt she had not found the right moment to tell her brother.
Melly had spoken with Ashtoria, the woman who had witnessed everything from beginning to end. As she expected, Ashtoria had told her she had discovered her Affinity.
"Your Affinity is the storm."
Those words from Ashtoria still echoed clearly in her head since the day before.
Melly tried to push the thought away and looked back at Riven and Ashtoria. The smile that had faded slowly returned to her lips, faint but real.
.
.
.
Riven thought the answer he had given earlier was enough to explain his stance. But when he saw Ashtoria's eyes, filled with pressure yet hiding a pain he could not understand, he realized it was not enough.
He exhaled slowly and repeated his words, this time more directly.
"I don't know," he said calmly. "I haven't even met her in person. How can I judge someone's nature based only on stories? I don't want to condemn anyone just because of rumors passed around in markets and taverns."
Riven studied Ashtoria's reaction carefully. His words did not directly answer her question, but they chipped away at the wall of unease weighing down her heart.
Ashtoria turned her face aside for a moment, as if weighing something only she knew. When she looked back at Riven, her voice was soft, yet filled with an unmistakable tremor.
"What if… what if the rumors are true? What if she really did kill people as she pleased?" she asked. It sounded less like she was talking about someone else, and more like she was confessing about herself.
Riven did not hesitate. He met her blood-red eyes firmly and answered in a steady voice.
"In that case, the real question is who those people were. This world is full of rotten men, Aria. Many of them deserve to die. Tell me… do you think those people deserved to be killed?"
The words struck Ashtoria like a sudden storm. They did not just reach her ears, they pierced deep into the memories she had buried, into wounds that had never healed. Faces she had erased. Blood she had spilled. Screams that once echoed so vividly, now lingering as faint whispers in her mind.
Her hand, which had been gripping Riven's collar, loosened. Her gaze wavered. She lowered her head, lips slightly parted, yet no words came. Without realizing it, she pressed her face against Riven's chest, as if the weight she had carried alone all this time had finally grown too heavy.
Riven stayed still. He could feel her hot, uneven breaths against his chest, could feel how fragile the woman who always appeared unshakable truly was. He wanted to hold her, to wrap her frail frame in an embrace, to run his hand through her fragrant red hair… but he held himself back.
He knew how complicated her feelings were. More than that, he understood how fragile the bond growing between them was. Too many secrets remained untold, yet too many emotions were already weaving threads between them.
Suddenly, Ashtoria lifted her head. Her crimson eyes glistened. The shimmer at their corners was not only emotion but something far deeper, something she had never let surface. Her voice trembled, every word sounding like shards of wounds she had long hidden.
"What would you think… if those people threw stones at her?"
Riven stayed silent.
"What if they called her a monster?" Ashtoria continued, her voice quieter. "What if they locked her up… never gave her food. What if they whipped her every day, just to see her suffer?"
Riven could only stare at her. His chest grew heavy with every word that left her lips.
She spoke again, her blood-red eyes boring into his, as if forcing him to feel what she felt.
"What if… all they ever wanted was to hate her? They wanted her dead… but before that, they wanted to see her break slowly, suffer, alone."
Her voice was nearly a whisper, yet every word echoed sharply in Riven's mind.
Then she asked again, this time in a voice softer than before, as though she herself feared the answer.
"Do you think… people like that deserve to die?"
For a moment Riven could not speak. Not because he lacked an answer, but because his entire body was tense—angry, sorrowful, confused, all at once.
His mind flashed back to the body he had once seen: covered in scars, cuts, lash marks. Anger surged inside him. His jaw tightened, teeth grinding without him realizing.
'Is that what you've been through, Ashtoria?' his thoughts roared.
Before he could restrain himself, his body moved.
Riven pulled her into his arms—tight, with a force he could not explain. He slipped a hand behind her head, caressing her crimson hair gently, as if trying to erase invisible wounds.
His voice was soft but firm, a simple sentence that rose straight from his heart without hesitation.
"If you think they deserved to die… then they all deserved to die."
Ashtoria froze in his embrace.
The words were simple, yet their impact spread through her like warm poison, straight to her heart. Her breath caught, her body trembled. But it was not fear, it was her heart pounding so hard it terrified her.
So hard she worried Riven could hear it.
So hard it frightened her.
No one had ever said such words to her before. Not in a voice this gentle. Not in an embrace like this. Not while stroking her as if she was something precious… not a monster.
Ashtoria did not know how to react. The only thing she knew was this: she did not want to let go of this embrace. Not now. Not anytime soon.
For the first time in her life, she felt… she was not alone.