Chapter 6: The Love We Share

Chapter 6: The Love We Share Lia still wore the same expression on her face as they went down the stairs, glancing over her shoulder. Her thoughts were clearly elsewhere, calculating, perhaps, the next course of action in her color-coded plans. "Purple it is," she muttered, her smile deepening. "So, pink, purple, and blue... hmm... maybe white too." She stepped off the last tread of stairs, Aramith following closely behind. Spinning around, she was about to say something when she noticed Mozrael miss a footing as she stepped down. Lia’s reflexes kicked in, and she raised both hands, ready to catch her, but Mozrael didn’t fall. Before Aramith could react, Mozrael collided with him, knocking him back a step. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her to steady her, his hold firm. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice a low murmur, trying to make sure she was unharmed. Mozrael’s face turned a deep shade of pink as she looked up at him, her gaze hesitant. "I’m fine," she said, brushing herself off and trying to avoid his eyes. But just as the tension started to ease, Lia chimed in, her voice a little too bright. "I want a hug too!" She grinned mischievously, clearly trying to break the awkward moment, but Aramith froze, noticing how close he still was to Mozrael. Mozrael pulled away quickly, her face burning with embarrassment. "Sorry," she muttered, avoiding his gaze as she stepped back. Lia shot them a look that could only be described as suspicion, but she seemed to enjoy the drama unfolding between the two of them. "Hmpf, you’re ignoring me now," she said. "Like that’s even possible," Aramith replied. He glanced sideways at Mozrael, his expression softening before he turned back to Lia. "Come on, let’s find Mom before it’s too late." Lia’s frown deepened, but she continued walking, falling into step behind them, clearly irritated. "Hey, what’s wrong with you? You’re not even smiling," she said, her voice light, but there was something underneath it—something impatient. Just then, Aramith’s face lit up with sudden enthusiasm. "Can you see that? Is that a dragon?" He pointed off to the side, his voice breaking the tension between them. Lia squinted in the direction he was pointing, focusing hard, but saw nothing. "Where? I don’t see anything." "There’s no dragon, I can’t see it." She turned to complain but saw them ahead moving faster than usual. She chased after them. "Why are you trying to get away?" She asked, arriving at his side and taking note of Mozrael who was being pulled along by him and looking nothing other than a complaisant. "There was no dragon, you tricked me." "You didn’t see it?" "Liar, you’re running away from me." Aramith smiled naturally. "Me? I wasn’t running, you’re just slow," he shot back, his tone playful, but there was a flicker in his eyes—a warning, maybe, that he wasn’t just teasing this time. He looked over at Mozrael, who was walking quietly beside him, her hand still in his. There was a protective air to his movements, a subtle but undeniable tension in his shoulders that Lia wasn’t quite catching. Lia raised her eyebrows, sensing something was off, but the moment passed, and she laughed again, moving ahead of him to walk backward. "You’re doing it again, aren’t you—ah!" Lia collided with something solid. She looked up and froze, startled by the figure standing in front of her. The man had dark green eyes and a friendly smile, his gaze warm and unbothered. He held out a single flower, its bright yellow petals fading to red at the edges, with a deep purple center. "Sorry!" Lia rushed out, panic rising in her chest as she quickly darted behind Aramith. She wanted to retreat further, but something in the man’s gaze made her uneasy. The man, dressed in a light green robe, seemed unaffected by the collision. "Well, isn’t this a lovely sight for a morning?" His voice was soft and easygoing, yet there was something sharp behind it—like he was enjoying some private joke. "You all look just like a nice group of siblings," he added, his eyes lingering on the trio, but they didn’t quite meet Lia’s gaze. Instead, they moved to Aramith, and then to Mozrael, where his smile grew a little too wide. Aramith felt the shift in the air, his protective instinct kicking in. His frown deepened as his purple eyes darkened slightly, the faintest hint of warning in his posture as he instinctively pulled Mozrael closer. Lia noticed the subtle change in Aramith, her playful demeanor dropping as she sensed the tension. Aiden’s smile didn’t falter. "Your otherworldly eye never ceases to amaze me, as blue as the waters far off," he said, his tone almost admiring. But there was a coldness in his words, something that made Mozrael instinctively shrink back, her grip tightening on Aramith’s hand. Aramith’s eyes glowed darker for just a moment—his glare sharp and protective—before he relaxed, turning slightly to face Lia, who was tugging at his sleeve with an expression that was now more worried than playful. "Let’s go," Mozrael murmured, breaking the moment before it could escalate. Aramith nodded, and they began walking past Aiden, who didn’t move. His eyes tracked their movements with a calculating interest. "Children," Aiden mused quietly to himself, his smile never slipping. "Always suspecting, but not knowing that which should be suspected... and that which should not." He inhaled deeply from the flower, his expression shifting slightly as if savoring something far more than just the scent. "Just perfectly ripe." He whispered with a chuckle as he turned around to walk off As they walked away, Aramith couldn’t shake the unease gnawing at him. He couldn’t tell if it was Aiden’s lingering gaze or something else, but he felt a tightening in his chest. Mozrael, sensing the shift, glanced up at him, her expression unreadable. "Aramith?" Lia called, her voice softer now, more genuine. "Is something wrong?" He didn’t answer immediately, but the hesitation in his steps spoke volumes. "Have all the foods been checked?" The queen’s voice was serene, like the delicate rustling of the flowers as she walked, her red dress flowing gracefully, accentuating her every step. She let her fingers brush against the petals, lost for a moment in the quiet beauty of the garden. "Yes, my queen," the maid replied, her voice soft, respectful. "What about the children?" Kethra’s eyes flicked briefly to the maid, still walking, but her attention now entirely on the well-kept garden around them. "If my calculations are correct, it should be done by tomorrow, but should it be needed, we could finish it today instead, Your Majesty." "That won’t be necessary." Kethra’s voice was quiet, almost absent, her thoughts already elsewhere. "Noted." The maid scribbled something, then hesitated before asking, "Would you like me to continue with the preparations for breakfast?" Kethra nodded gently, a quiet grace in her every movement. As she stopped near a bench, her fingers slipped the crown from her head, setting it carefully beside her, and she allowed her hair to spill free, cascading down her shoulders. The morning sun caught the strands, and she hummed a soft, enchanting tune to herself, as her fingers absently unraveled the braid. The garden before her was vast and organized in perfect symmetry, a sight so mesmerizing that it momentarily took her mind away from the complexities of her royal duties. But then, a soft touch brushed her shoulder, warm and familiar. She didn’t flinch. She knew who it was before the steps even reached her. "I guess my time is up then," she said, the words light, though her tone betrayed a deeper thought. "Am I disturbing your morning solitude, my dear?" His voice, smooth and warm, tickled the back of her ear as he stood behind her, his breath warm against her skin. "Oh, of course not," she replied with a soft chuckle, not turning to face him. "I just came here to think." "About me?" His voice lowered, teasing her, but there was a quiet warmth in it that made her smile despite herself. "Maybe I’m a terrible queen," she said, her voice light and playful, "only thinking about my husband every time he’s not with me." "Who could blame you?" Henndar’s words were almost a whisper, his tone both affectionate and confident. "I am your wonderful husband, after all." Kethra raised an eyebrow at the playful suggestion, her lips curling into a soft smile. "You made it sound like my presence is trouble when you said your time is up." He said gently "Then maybe it’s because when I’m with you, like this, I can’t think of anything else. Besides, what did you expect me to say?" "Hmm, maybe a good morning with a kiss? That wouldn’t hurt, would it?" She allowed herself a small laugh, a light sound that echoed the softness of the moment. "You could have had that," she said with a teasing glint in her eyes, "but you were gone before I woke up. If you want one now, though, you’ll have to earn it." Henndar raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a devilish grin. "Earn it?" His smile was the kind that could melt even the most composed of hearts. "You’ll make me work for it, then?" Kethra’s smile deepened as she turned to face him, meeting his eyes with a playful yet sincere look. "You always have to, my love."