Chapter 56: Give Me Two Days

Chapter 56: Give Me Two Days It had been a little over a week since Aramith had begun eating again. The hollowness in his face had faded, and the sharp angles of his body had softened, filled once more with the strength that had once defined him. Though his appetite was still not what it had been, he no longer hesitated to sit with the family at meals, eating in measured silence as conversations carried on around him. This morning was no different. The sun streamed through the grand windows of the dining hall, casting a warm glow over the table. Kethra and Henndar exchanged a few words about matters within the palace, while Mozrael quietly enjoyed her meal beside Aramith. When the meal ended, Kethra rose, brushing her hands together. "Are you coming?" she asked Aramith, referring to their usual visit to Lia’s chambers. Once again, Aramith shook his head. "I’ll take a walk instead." Mozrael hesitated, glancing between him and the others before pushing back her chair. "I’ll come with you." Henndar said nothing, merely nodding as he departed with Kethra. Mozrael caught up to Aramith as he walked along the garden path, his hands tucked behind his back. The early morning air carried the faint scent of dew and earth, a quiet contrast to the lively voices coming from inside the dining hall. The marble paths wound through carefully tended gardens, the scent of flowers carried on the breeze. Aramith and Mozrael walked in silence for a while, the only sounds were insects and birdsong. "Do you still feel... off?" Mozrael asked after a moment, her voice uncertain. Aramith exhaled through his nose, pausing beside a low hedge. "Not really. But I still don’t feel like myself either." He ran a hand through his hair, staring out at the training grounds in the distance. "It’s like I’m just waiting." Mozrael folded her arms. "For what?" Aramith didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure. "You’re avoiding seeing Lia," she finally said. Aramith didn’t stop walking. His fingers curled slightly, but his expression remained unreadable. "I’m not avoiding her," he murmured. "I just... don’t see the point in going." Mozrael frowned. "How can you say that?" He sighed, slowing slightly. "She’s unconscious. Whether I sit by her side or not won’t change anything." Mozrael didn’t immediately respond. They passed a bed of violet flowers, their petals trembling in the light breeze. "It’s not about changing anything," she said at last. "It’s about being there for her." Aramith exhaled sharply. "Haven’t I already done enough?" Mozrael’s steps faltered. He wasn’t saying it in a way that suggested he had helped Lia—no, his voice carried the weight of guilt, as if he believed himself responsible for everything that had happened. She stopped, her arms crossing. "You really believe that, don’t you?" Aramith turned to her, finally looking her in the eye. "It’s the truth." Mozrael shook her head. "No, it’s your truth. The one you’ve convinced yourself of." Aramith stared at her, his expression unreadable, but Mozrael wasn’t done. "You know, I used to believe I wasn’t worthy of calling Henndar and Kethra my parents. That I wasn’t really part of this family. And for the longest time, I thought that was the truth, too." She let out a breath, a small wry smile forming. "But I was wrong. And you’re wrong, too." Aramith didn’t respond immediately, his gaze flickering with something unreadable. He turned away, his steps slow, thoughtful. Mozrael let the silence stretch between them before speaking again. "Lia would want to see you when she wakes up, you know. You think she wouldn’t care if you were there?" Aramith’s jaw tightened. He didn’t argue, but he also didn’t answer. You don’t even know if she’ll wake up. Mozrael sighed but didn’t push further. Instead, she fell into step beside him, and for a while, they simply walked in silence. The day passed without much else. Aramith spent hours reading in the palace library, his fingers tracing over old, worn pages filled with texts on cultivation techniques. Though he had yet to attempt practicing again, something in him felt the need to prepare. Henndar and Kethra had noticed, but they said nothing. Perhaps they feared that stopping him would only cause him to withdraw again. It wasn’t until the evening, just as the sky began to darken, that something finally shattered the quiet. Raised voices echoed from the front of the palace. Guards shouting. Footsteps thundering down the stone corridors. Aramith glanced at Mozrael, who had been sitting across from him in the library, and she tensed. Then the doors were thrown open. A girl walked in. She was young, possibly their age, yet carried herself with the quiet authority of someone used to being obeyed. Her silver-white hair cascaded down her back, glinting under the light, a few loose strands framing her sharp, unreadable eyes. She wore white—an elegant, flowing garment embroidered with faint silver threads that shimmered like frost. A delicate choker circled her throat, its centerpiece a small gemstone encased in silver. Snowflake-shaped earrings dangled from her ears, swaying with her steps, and on her finger rested a ring carved into the likeness of a wolf’s head, its gleaming eyes capturing the light with an eerie sharpness. Guards flanked her on either side, tense but hesitant to act, their hands hovering near their weapons but not drawing them. Even if they had wanted to, it was clear they were afraid to offend her. She ignored them all. Her eyes locked onto Aramith. She strode forward, stopping just before him, staring directly into his eyes with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. His body went rigid, and under his skin, he felt something. This girl wasn’t your average girl. Though she didn’t scream dangerous, she held power. Without a word, she stepped closer—too close. Aramith stiffened more, every instinct screaming at the unnatural proximity, but before he could move, she inhaled deeply, the ghost of her breath skimming his skin. Mozrael’s fingers twitched at her side, barely restraining the impulse to yank the girl away, but her observation of how the guards seemed afraid to act made her think twice. The guards, too, shifted uneasily, their grips tightening around their weapons. The girl’s lips curled. "Interesting..." Then she straightened, her gaze shifting past him as she spoke with absolute certainty. "I demand to see Lia." Henndar and Kethra arrived at that moment, the air in the room tightening with their presence. "Absolutely not," Henndar’s voice was sharp, final. The girl barely reacted. She simply crossed her arms. "I am not here to fight. I am here to help." Henndar’s expression remained unreadable, but the tension in the room was palpable. Kethra took a step forward, her tone just as firm. "And why should we trust you?" The girl didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she exhaled through her nose and then turned on her heel. "Fine. I’ll show you proof." She lifted a single hand, fingers curling. A soft chime, like distant ice cracking, filled the air as a figure began to take shape behind her. A wolf, its fur woven from drifting frost, emerged soundlessly. With each step, snowflakes whispered against the stone floor, vanishing as quickly as they fell. Henndar’s voice cut through the air, firm and unyielding. "You will not use your attribute so freely here." Before it could take another, Henndar lifted a hand and made a swift grasping motion. The wolf disintegrated instantly, scattering into nothingness. All that remained were wisps of snow. The girl exhaled, this time exasperated. "Then follow me. I’ll prove myself another way." She turned sharply and began walking. The family exchanged wary glances, only following after Henndar took the lead. The guards trailed behind. She led them through the corridors, down the grand steps, and into the palace gardens. The scent of damp earth and fresh leaves filled the air. A servant stood near one of the flower beds, watering the plants. The moment they approached, the servant looked up, offering a customary bow. "Your Highnesses." The girl didn’t slow down. Without warning, she grabbed the servant by the throat and shoved her to the ground. Gasps filled the air as the guards moved in, but Henndar raised a hand, stopping them. His eyes narrowed. "This one," the girl said, her grip tightening, "is a traitor."The words cut through the gathered silence like a blade. She leaned in slightly, her voice lowering, but her smirk never wavered. "And she’s partly the reason Lia is dying." Silence crashed over the garden.Mozrael bristled. This girl wasn’t family. She had no right to speak Lia’s name so casually, so familiarly—as if it belonged to her. Henndar’s gaze darkened. "How do you know that?" The girl’s smirk widened. "Because I can smell it. And from the look of things, you already know she’s a traitor." Henndar didn’t speak but he knew all eyes were on him. "Yes, you may have identified her, but now you’ve burned the bridge. She was under watch. If she didn’t know she was a suspect, we could’ve followed her to the others. But now? Her allies will go dark." He looked the servant in the eyes, then back at the girl. "You have accomplished nothing with this act, and have rather complicated things." The girl smiled, fangs appearing at the corner of her mouth. "I can find the rest of the people connected to this servant. If you would allow me, I will accomplish what had taken so long for your people to discover." Her words were provocative, yet Henndar remained calm. "How long will it take you to accomplish these claims?" He asked. "Two days. Give me two days, and I will get you the names." "I do not doubt you, but I would not allow your empire to come and do as they please. Yes, I sent information out about what was going on, but if your people want to help, there is a protocol you must follow." The girl laughed. "I don’t do what they want. I do as I please, and you of all people, know what I am. I only do what I want." Henndar understood her clearly—she was known as the lone wolf, someone who preferred working alone. She rarely acted out of duty; most of what she did was for her own benefit—or the thrill. If helping others happened along the way, she never asked for much in return. Still, another reason made him consider her offer: she wasn’t connected to him. Using her gave him the perfect excuse. It all lined up too well. Henndar nodded. "Fine, two days. But if you are unable to bring proof, you’ll be held accountable for whatever you’ve just stirred" "No need for that. I will finish." Henndar assigned twenty soldiers to assist her, but she rejected the offer, declaring that she would work alone. Henndar told the soldiers to accompany her out and send the servant in for interrogation. As they left, Kethra questioned Henndar’s decision. "How can you trust her so easily?" She asked, very much concerned. "You saw it for yourself, and you know who she is. She wasn’t lying. I don’t trust her, but I’m curious." "She wasn’t lying, but I still don’t like the idea. You can’t just let someone of her caliber run around like that." Henndar nodded in agreement. "Let’s just wait and see. Besides, when have I made such a wrong choice?" She let out a sigh. Mozrael had been quiet, but in her mind, she was still thinking of who that girl was, and why she did those things. She definitely wanted something in return, but what? And also...why did she sniff Aramith? She glanced at Aramith, then stopped walking. Kethra and Henndar noticed and also stopped. Aramith stood frozen, his thoughts coiling tightly around the girl’s words. Still being targeted... The idea gnawed at him, each repetition sinking deeper like a slow-turning blade. His fingers twitched at his sides, an urge to act building inside him—but against what? A faceless enemy? The girl? He felt a soft pressure on his shoulder and looked up to see Kethra smiling down at him. "Don’t think too much about this. It’s all going to settle." Aramith relaxed his shoulders and followed. Two days, she said. Two days.