Later, in a Private Dining Room
Riven and Lyra sat across from each other, the candlelight casting soft glows on their faces. They ate in comfortable silence, though Lyra kept stealing glances at him.
Riven noticed and smiled warmly. "What is it, Lyra? Do you need something?"
"N-No," she replied, flustered.
He grinned teasingly. "Why so shy now? Weren't you the one who kissed me the moment you came back?"
Her face flushed red as she stared intensely at her plate, as if trying to find meaning in the food.
Riven chuckled heartily. "You won't find any answers in that plate. Yours truly is sitting right in front of you."
Lyra pouted and playfully stomped on his foot under the table.
"Ouch!" Riven yelped, quickly pulling his foot back.
Her laughter rang out softly, the candlelight dancing in her eyes. That smile—it was like the moon breaking through a stormy sky. Riven etched every expression into his heart, like carvings on ancient stone—permanent and unforgotten.
