Chapter 69: A Quiet Moment
"W-What?" Edward stammered, his eyes darting between them.
Aeris’ glare could have frozen fire. Her cheeks, faintly pink, only made the contrast sharper.
"What? There’s plenty of space in my room—" Seraphine began playfully.
"He can sleep on the couch downstairs," Aeris interrupted, voice calm but edged. "Tomorrow we can think of alternatives."
Edward raised both hands in surrender. "Y-yeah, the couch works great. Perfect, actually."
Seraphine pouted but didn’t argue. "Fine."
Still, she didn’t leave before giving Edward a long, squeezing hug—one that lasted a second too long. He stood stiffly, caught between confusion and panic, until she finally let go and disappeared into her room.
Aeris lingered, oddly composed now that the moment had passed. "Goodnight," she said before she also turned and vanished into her room.
The house fell silent.
Edward sighed and made his way toward the small living area. The couch wasn’t exactly... ideal. Narrow, uneven, and a little too short, it barely qualified as a bed. But it would have to do. He stretched out, the old fabric creaking beneath him. His arm kept falling of the edge. He turned again and again, but no position felt right.
Minutes stretched into hours as sleep refused to come.
He stared up at the ceiling. Shadows from the window stretched across it, silver light from the moon tracing faint lines on the wooden beams.
His thoughts drifted to recent events—Crimson Oath, Auren, the Lord of Undead, the King. Every name carried weight, every memory heavy. It was strange to think how quickly everything had changed. How much blood, how much loss, and yet here he was...
He exhaled, long and tired.
Frusted beyond exhaustion, he sat up.
The faint moonlight spilt through the window, brushing over the room in cold blue tones.
He stood, wrapping his cloak tighter around his shoulders, and made his way to the kitchen. The floorboards creaked softly beneath his feet. He lit a small oil lamp, its orange glow pushing the darkness back just enough to allow him to see.
The house was peaceful—eerily so. The distant crackle of the dying fire, the whisper of the wind outside, even the whistle of the kettle as it began to warm—all blended into a kind of quiet comfort.
When the water boiled, he poured it over a handful of dried herbs Aeris had left on the counter earlier that day. The faint scent of mint and chamomile filled the air.
He carried the steaming cup to the table and sat down.
For the first time that night, the stillness didn’t feel empty.
He let his thoughts drift again, his fingers tracing the rim of the mug, the heat seeping into his palms.
Then, a soft footstep broke the quiet.
Edward turned to see Aeris standing on the staircase, the pale glow of the moon behind her. She wore nothing but a thin nightgown, her loose hair falling freely down her back. The sight caught him off guard—not because of what she wore, but because she looked... human. Not the calm, collected fighter she always tried to be, but a girl.
She blinked in surprise when she saw him awake, but didn’t comment on it.
"Couldn’t sleep?" she asked quietly, voice carrying easily through the quiet.
He gestured toward the teapot. "Something like that. Want some?"
She hesitated, then nodded and walked over. Her bare feet made no sound against the floorboards.
There were five empty chairs around the small table, but instead of taking one across from him, she moved past all of them and sat right beside him.
Close enough that he could feel the faint warmth of her shoulder.
They sat in silence for a while—not awkward, not tense, just quiet. The kind of silence that didn’t need to be filled. The sound of the wind outside, the faint whistle of the kettle, the slow rhythm of their breathing—it all blended into something peaceful.
Edward glanced at her. Her expression was softer than usual, the faint light outlining her features.
"You’ve done well, Aeris," he said finally.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she let her head rest gently on his shoulder.
He froze for a moment, unsure if he should move, speak, or just let the moment be. But when he felt the faintest sigh escape her lips, he stayed still.
They sat there, unmoving, for what could have been minutes or hours. The world outside seemed far away.
Then, the girl broke the quiet once more.
"You know," she murmured, "you can sleep in my bed."
"Huh?" Edward turned to face her, startled at the words.
Aeris’ eyes widened as she realised how it sounded. "I mean—we can take turns! I’ve already slept enough, so I don’t mind staying up for the rest of the night."
"Oh." Edward blinked, a little too quickly. "Right. That makes sense."
She looked away, embarrassed, but something in her gaze flickered—an emotion that wasn’t entirely embarrassment.
"Unless..." she began, her tone quiet but steady.
Edward raised a brow. "Unless...?"
She turned toward him, and a sudden resolve burned in her eyes. The distance between them vanished—their faces barely inches apart now. Her breath brushed against his skin, her gaze locked on his.
"We could—" Aeris began before a sudden voice cut through the conversation like a bell.
"Why are you two awake?"
They both froze.
Seraphine stood at the base of the stairs, hair tousled, eyes half-lidded with sleep. She rubbed her eyes, clearly still half-dreaming, then squinted as her gaze landed on them.
Her expression shifted instantly.
"Why are you two doing so late at night?" she asked suspiciously, walking over before either could answer.
Aeris straightened instantly, hands clasped in her lap as if nothing had happened.
The moment Seraphine reached the table, she plopped into the empty chair beside him. Her gaze flicked between the two of them, eyes narrowing slightly.
"What are you drinking?" she asked, grabbing Edward’s cup before he could respond.
"Wait, that’s—"
She took a sip, and her expression softened. "Mmm. That’s good."
Edward blinked. "My tea..."
Seraphine shrugged, clearly unconcerned.
The three of them sat there together. For once, the silence wasn’t heavy. Seraphine talked endlessly, her words spilling like a stream that refused to stop—yet instead of feeling irritated, Edward just smiled. For the first time in a long while, the sound of her voice felt comforting.