Morning spilled into Aurelia's room with the soft warmth of sunlight that filtered through the thin curtains. For a moment, she lay still, clutching her blanket like a child clutching safety from the storms of the world. The memory of the night before — Malion's sharp smile, the slap Liora dealt in fury — all returned to her like echoes. Her chest felt heavy, but at the same time, there was an odd flutter that she couldn't deny.
She rubbed her eyes and whispered to herself, "It was just one night. I'll forget it. I should forget it."
Yet deep inside, she already knew she couldn't.
The day in the household began as it always did. Her mother's voice rose from downstairs, instructing the maid to fetch water, ordering her elder sister to stop whining, and complaining about the price of grain in the marketplace. The familiar domestic chaos was comforting in its own way — though the unease between her and Liora remained like a storm cloud just beyond the horizon.
When Aurelia stepped into the hall for breakfast, Liora was already seated at the long wooden table. She had her chin raised high, her lips pressed together, and her eyes narrowed. Aurelia tried to ignore the glare boring into her, but the scrape of the spoon against the bowl felt louder than usual.
Her mother sat at the head of the table, weary-eyed from lack of sleep. She cast a brief look between her daughters but said nothing. Perhaps she wanted to avoid another argument.
Liora, however, had no such restraint.
"So," Liora said suddenly, her tone dripping with venom, "did you sleep well, sister? I was wondering if your legs were sore from all the walking you did last night."
Aurelia's spoon froze mid-air. The words cut sharper than she expected, not just because of the accusation but because of the smugness in her sister's voice.
Her mother shot Liora a warning glance. "Enough. We already cleared that matter last night."
But Liora wasn't done. She leaned closer, lowering her voice so that only Aurelia could hear. "Don't think you're clever. I saw you. And one day, I'll prove it."
Aurelia forced herself to take another spoonful of porridge, though her stomach knotted so tightly she could barely swallow. She wanted to snap back, to defend herself, but she remembered Malion's face — and Nicholas, his wide eyes as he lied for her. He had saved her in a way she didn't fully understand, and she wasn't about to ruin that by speaking recklessly.
Instead, she said lightly, "Maybe you should worry about yourself, sister. Accusing me only makes you look desperate."
Liora's jaw clenched. Their mother sighed heavily and muttered about "daughters driving her to gray hairs." The conversation ended, but the anger in Liora's eyes promised that this battle was far from over.
The day dragged on as Aurelia did her usual tasks. She helped sweep the yard, fetched water from the well, and mended her torn apron. Yet, even with her hands busy, her mind kept drifting to the forest. To him.
Malion.
She shouldn't be thinking about him. She knew nothing about him except his sharpness, his odd way of speaking, and the darkness that seemed to cling to him like a second skin. But when he smiled — that arrogant, infuriating smile — something inside her stirred.
By the time evening arrived, her heart was racing in ways that had nothing to do with chores. She dressed simply, in a pale gown that wouldn't catch too much attention, and slipped out while her mother scolded Liora for leaving her embroidery undone. The distraction was perfect.
The forest welcomed her with cool air and rustling leaves. Shadows stretched long, and the path toward the lake glimmered faintly under the rising moon. She clutched her shawl tighter, her steps quick, until the trees parted and the water came into view.
He was already there.
Malion leaned against a tree, his dark hair falling into his eyes, his posture careless yet alert. When he saw her, his smirk returned — as though he'd been waiting not just minutes, but days.
"You came," he said simply.
"You doubted I would?" she replied, lifting her chin.
"Not really," he admitted. "Curiosity always wins in the end."
Aurelia crossed her arms, unwilling to let him have the upper hand. "So what are we doing here, then? You dragged me into this… secret meeting by the lake. What's the point?"
Malion stepped closer, his boots silent on the grass. "The point, Aurelia," he said slowly, savoring her name, "is that I wanted to see if you'd actually keep your word. And since you did… we should make it worthwhile."
And so, they did something Aurelia never expected.
He picked up a smooth stone and skipped it across the lake, the ripples spreading like silver rings under the moonlight. Then, he handed her a stone of her own.
"You try."
She laughed, half-disbelieving. "You invited me here to teach me how to skip stones?"
"Not teach," he corrected, his eyes glinting. "Test."
She arched a brow but tried anyway. Her first attempt landed with a dull plop, sinking immediately. Malion chuckled.
"Graceful. Like a drowning duck."
Aurelia shot him a glare, grabbed another stone, and threw again. This time it skipped once before sinking. She gasped in triumph. "Did you see that? It skipped!"
He gave a mock bow. "Congratulations, my lady. You've advanced from drowning duck to hopping frog."
Despite herself, Aurelia laughed. The sound echoed softly across the lake, and Malion froze for a fraction of a second, watching her. The sight of her smiling seemed to disarm him, though he masked it quickly with another smirk.
They continued, stone after stone, until her arm ached and the shore was littered with discarded pebbles. Each failed attempt brought his teasing, and each small success earned her exaggerated praise. By the end, she was breathless with laughter, her earlier worries momentarily forgotten.
At one point, Aurelia sat down on the grass, pulling her knees to her chest. "This is ridiculous. I feel like a child again."
Malion sat beside her, his expression softer than usual. "Maybe that's not such a bad thing. When was the last time you laughed like this?"
She hesitated. Her mother's constant scolding, Liora's sharp words, the suffocating pressure of propriety — laughter had become rare. She swallowed. "I don't remember."
"Then tonight was worth it," he said quietly.
For a moment, silence stretched between them, filled only by the gentle lapping of the lake. Aurelia found herself staring at him, noticing the way moonlight highlighted the angles of his face.
But then she caught herself and quickly looked away. "You're very strange, Malion."
"So they say," he replied, amused.