The stars had long scattered across the velvet sky when the ballroom began to thin. Music still played faintly behind the golden glass doors, but the real story was unfolding out on the marble balcony.
Salira leaned over the balustrade, the wind teasing her deep red gown and curls. Her heart still raced from the dance, her hand tingling from where Adam had kissed it. It had felt real. Too real.
She was still reeling when a voice, soft but tinged with something bitter, cut through the air.
"You said yes."
She didn't need to turn.
Alpher.
Of course he would come.
She slowly turned to face him, her expression calm, unreadable.
Alpher stood there in his polished navy military uniform, the one that always made people whisper. His blonde hair was slicked back, and his icy blue eyes studied her like she was something he didn't recognize. Maybe she wasn't.
"I did," Salira said.
He stepped forward. "To get my attention?"
She blinked. "Excuse me?"
His mouth tightened. "You know I don't fall for tricks. If this is some stunt to make me jealous—"
"Don't flatter yourself."
He froze. "What?"
"I said, don't flatter yourself, Duke Alpher."
For a long moment, they just stared at each other.
"You used to follow me around like a lost kitten," he muttered, voice quieter now. "You used to copy Flora's hair, her pastel dresses, you tried to be her just because I liked her. You humiliated yourself—"
Salira stepped toward him. One, then two steps. The moonlight hit her face just right.
"That girl died."
His breath caught.
"She died the day she realized the person she'd been chasing wasn't worth her tears."
Alpher frowned. "Then who are you?"
Salira smiled faintly. "Someone who's tired of being an echo."
He looked stunned.
"She never wore red before," he said, almost to himself. "She thought it made her look angry."
"She was angry," Salira replied. "Angry at being invisible."
His voice turned cold. "Adam won't love you. He can't. He doesn't know how."
Her smile didn't falter. "Then maybe I'll teach him."
Before Alpher could speak again, another voice joined them.
"Is there a reason you're standing so close to my fiancée?"
Adam.
He emerged from the shadows like the storm they all feared—tall, dark, and dressed in obsidian and crimson. His hair fell perfectly over his forehead, and his eyes—those gold-tinged eyes—never once left Salira.
Alpher stiffened. "We were talking."
"About what?" Adam asked coolly.
Alpher looked at Salira, who smiled sweetly.
"About the past," she said. "But I'm not interested in looking back anymore."
Adam didn't even acknowledge Alpher after that. "You looked… distant. I was worried."
"I needed some air."
He stepped closer, the gap between them vanishing.
"Did I imagine it?" he asked.
"Imagine what?"
"The smile you gave me."
Salira felt the heat creep up her cheeks. "What do you think?"
Adam's voice dropped, quiet and rough. "I think it's the first smile I've wanted to keep."
He hesitated then, uncertainty clouding his golden gaze. "But why did you say yes? Are you… playing a game with me?"
Salira's smile softened. She stepped closer, gently placing her hand over his.
"I know I haven't earned your trust. Not yet. But I meant it, Adam."
His eyes searched hers, trying to read beneath the words.
"I just don't know how to believe you," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.
"Then let me show you," she said. "One step at a time."
A long silence passed.
Then Adam nodded once, slowly. "One step at a time."
Behind them, the doors to the ballroom swung open, signaling the end of the formal gathering. People were trickling out. But the world on the balcony stayed still.
And so did the storm in Adam's heart.