The next morning, sunlight streamed softly through my window, warm and golden. The festival may have passed, and training may have resumed, but something had shifted in the air—something subtle, emotional. A quiet undercurrent of tension hummed beneath every interaction now. Not the kind of tension that frayed bonds, but one that deepened them. A question left unspoken, hearts drawing closer with every shared glance, every lingering touch.
And perhaps… I was starting to want those moments. Even seek them.
In the hallway before morning classes, I found myself walking alongside Lillian. She was radiant as always, a vision of grace in her polished uniform, her pastel-pink hair catching the morning light like spun silk. Her fingers brushed mine as we walked—casual, but deliberate.
"I was thinking," she said, glancing sideways at me with a soft, mischievous smile, "we should go somewhere this weekend. Just the two of us."
I blinked, startled by the sudden invitation. "Just us?"
"Mhm." Her smile deepened, though there was a gleam of something possessive in her green eyes. "A break from… all this." Her voice dropped just slightly, suggestive, knowing. "Besides, we haven't had a proper moment alone since the garden. I miss you."
I opened my mouth to answer—but Camille's cool, calm voice cut in as she appeared beside me from seemingly nowhere. "A weekend getaway? You're brave, Lillian. What if she gets stolen before then?"
Lillian didn't even flinch. "I trust Sera."
"But do you trust us?" Camille asked, tone light, yet her eyes held a sharpness behind their ice-blue calm. She leaned a little closer to me, her voice dropping to a low whisper. "You know, I was going to ask if you wanted to help me with lines this weekend. In my room."
I nearly stumbled. "I—I can't be in two places at once."
"You don't need to be," Lillian said, still perfectly composed. "You've already agreed to one plan."
"I didn't exactly—" I started, cheeks burning.
"Oh? So you're not committed to it?" Lillian asked sweetly, and that smile she gave me? Dangerous.
"I didn't say that either!" I spluttered.
Camille chuckled softly. "Poor Sera. So in demand."
Before I could respond, Claire dashed into the corridor, practically skidding to a stop beside us. "Am I late? Wait—what's happening? Are we fighting again for Sera's weekend?"
"No one's fighting," I muttered under my breath, covering my face with one hand.
Claire beamed at me, slipping between Camille and Lillian like a breeze. "Well, count me in. We could all go somewhere fun together! Unless it's supposed to be a date." She shot me a wink. "Then I can be a chaperone."
Tessa joined moments later, her quiet presence settling over the group like a calming breeze—until her red eyes landed on me.
"She looks overwhelmed," she said bluntly, tone even.
"That's because she is," I muttered through gritted teeth.
Tessa tilted her head. "Then let her decide."
Everyone paused, looking at me.
The silence was suffocating.
"I—" I hesitated, then sighed, dragging a hand through my hair. "I'll think about it."
Camille smirked. "That's not a no."
"It's also not a yes," Lillian replied, clearly satisfied.
Claire gave me a thumbs-up. "You're doing great."
I shot her a look. "Am I?"
"You're just too lovable, Sera." Claire grinned, elbowing me. "Not your fault we all want you."
And just like that, the conversation was over, each of them moving on to other topics as though they hadn't just cornered me like wolves over the last bite of meat. But even as I caught my breath, I couldn't stop the warmth blooming in my chest. Because underneath the chaos, there was affection. Real affection. Not rivalry for the sake of it, but a desire to be close to me—because they cared.
And I… cared too.
More than I wanted to admit.
Later that evening, after classes had ended, I found myself sitting under the tall tree by the east courtyard—the one where the breeze always whispered through the leaves. I just needed a moment to breathe.
Tessa found me first. She didn't say anything at first, just sat beside me quietly, her shoulder brushing mine.
"You handled them well," she murmured after a long silence.
"I didn't feel like I did."
She hummed softly, a small, rare smile touching her lips. "You didn't run."
I glanced at her, surprised. "That's your standard now? Not running?"
Tessa shrugged. "You used to. You don't anymore."
I stared down at my hands. "It's not that I'm not scared. I still… don't know how to handle any of this. All of you. You're all so—" I stopped, unsure of the word.
"Much," Tessa supplied.
I laughed quietly. "Yeah. Much."
She didn't speak again, but her hand found mine, lacing our fingers together with a casualness that belied how intimate the gesture felt. It grounded me. Steadied me.
"You don't have to handle it all," she said softly. "Just… let yourself feel it. That's enough."
Her words echoed in my chest long after the sun dipped behind the academy towers, casting us in cool dusk.
That night, I returned to my dorm room to find a small note slipped under my door.
"I meant what I said. I miss you. —Lillian"
Underneath it, in different handwriting, scrawled in Claire's dramatic loops:
"PS: I also miss you. But I'm more fun."
And then, in neat script that smelled faintly of Camille's perfume:
"Just remember: whoever wins, you're the prize."
I stared at the notes, one hand pressed to my chest as I felt my heartbeat thrum unsteadily.
This was real. This warmth. This attention. These feelings.
They weren't characters anymore.
They were people.
And they cared for me.
And slowly, stubbornly, maybe I was starting to care too.
…Even if I still didn't know how to say it yet.
The next morning, I woke with the soft flutter of nerves in my chest—an all-too-familiar feeling by now. I stared at the notes on my desk, reading them for what must have been the tenth time. Lillian's elegant penmanship, Claire's chaotic scrawl, Camille's graceful calm pressed into ink. Each note different. Each note personal.
I rubbed my eyes and groaned, flopping back against my pillow.
"I'm not a prize," I muttered to the ceiling. "I'm a person."
'You're also surrounded by a harem of elite girls who are all in love with you,' Chloe's voice chimed dryly in my head.
I groaned louder. "You're not helping."
'Just saying. You might want to start making a decision before they declare magical war in the courtyard.'
I shot upright at that. "They wouldn't."
A pause. Then: '...They absolutely would.'
And honestly? She wasn't wrong.
By the time I reached the academy gardens for club hours, Lillian was already there—kneeling gracefully in the grass, a basket of cut flowers beside her, sunlight catching the rose gold strands of her hair. She looked… peaceful. Which only made the way my heart skipped worse.
"Good morning," she said, glancing over her shoulder at me with a smile that felt like warm light.
I smiled back instinctively. "Good morning."
"You look well-rested," she added softly, standing. "Did you think about what I said yesterday?"
"About…" I trailed off, suddenly hyper-aware of how close she was. "About the weekend?"
She nodded once, tilting her head, green eyes searching mine.
"I did," I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck. "I just—"
"Can't decide," she said for me, though there was no judgment in her voice. Only understanding. And something else. Something quieter. "That's alright."
I blinked. "It is?"
Lillian smiled gently, stepping close enough that her fingers brushed mine again—just like yesterday. "You're doing your best, Sera. That's enough for me."
My throat tightened. Before I could say anything more, someone cleared their throat behind me.
"Sorry," Claire called, walking into the garden with a bouquet haphazardly stuffed into a watering can. "Am I interrupting your moment?"
"Yes," Lillian said, without hesitation.
"No," I said at the same time.
Claire grinned. "Good! Because I need help. My latest plant is either dying or turning into a sentient being. Jury's still out."
Tessa arrived soon after, followed by Camille, both of them quietly sliding into their usual places without any announcement. Camille offered me a serene smile, while Tessa gave me a nod of acknowledgment that meant more than words ever could.
And as we all fell into the rhythm of tending the garden, the atmosphere around us shifted again.
Not with tension.
But with comfort.
This had become our space. A rare moment of peace in a world full of battles and secrets and unspoken feelings.
"Your flower's blooming nicely," Tessa said quietly beside me, pointing to the one we'd planted together during the last club meeting.
I looked at it—white petals with a soft pink core. Delicate, strong.
"I didn't think it would survive," I admitted.
"It did," Tessa replied, and her meaning wasn't lost on me.
Later, after club hours ended, I wandered toward the amphitheater where the Drama Club was rehearsing. Camille had invited me again, and part of me just… wanted to see her.
She noticed me from the stage almost immediately.
"Ah," she said, stepping down gracefully. "Did you come to see me perform, or did you finally decide to steal the spotlight yourself?"
I snorted. "Please. You're the performer."
"True," she agreed easily. Then her voice softened. "But I do like it when you watch."
And just like that, I forgot how to speak.
Camille's smile grew just a little. She took a step forward, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear with maddening delicacy. "Still so easy to fluster. You really are adorable."
I stepped back instinctively, ears burning. "Don't you have lines to rehearse?"
She laughed, genuinely amused. "Fine, fine. But stay. I perform better when you're here."
I did stay. And I wasn't sure if it was the lighting or the way she held herself so effortlessly on stage, but watching Camille perform stirred something in me—something quiet, but growing stronger. A recognition that this wasn't just flirtation.
It was real.
Just like the way Lillian looked at me when she thought I wasn't watching.
Just like the way Diana always knew exactly when to show up, her teasing masking how fiercely she protected me.
Just like Claire's spontaneous gestures that said more than she ever could.
Just like Tessa's silence—so full of meaning.
And just like the way Camille smiled, only ever so softly, when our eyes met.
Later that evening, walking back through the quiet courtyard, I stopped beneath the blooming cherry tree and looked up at the stars. They were clearer tonight, like the sky was trying to tell me something.
I didn't have an answer yet.
But I had feelings.
Real ones.
Messy, flustered, stubborn feelings.
And for once, I wasn't running from them.
Because I was starting to realize something very important.
Maybe I didn't need to pick one of them right now.
Maybe, just maybe… they were each helping me discover the parts of myself I'd buried long ago.
And that was a kind of love too.