The rest of the day was quite peaceful, compared to the chaos that usually followed them like a shadow.
When they finally returned home, Aramith went straight for a bath and collapsed into bed. Only then did he realize how truly exhausted he was. As sleep pulled at him, his thoughts drifted to the events of the day.
Maybe Kesha wasn't so bad after all. Getting Mozrael to open up... he hadn't expected that. Just hours ago, they'd been at each other's throats, yet now Mozrael didn't just tolerate her—she seemed to actually like her. And little by little, he was starting to accept her as a part of his life. Not as a lover as she claimed, but as an important part of his life.
"Valyne?... Like two years ago when—"
"But why would—?"
Aramith stirred at the sound of voices. As he opened his eyes and sat up, a familiar, sharp perfume hit him—one he'd smelled earlier that day. Before him sat Kesha, smiling sweetly.
"Don't you think it'd be nice if we woke up like this every day? Face to fa—"
"No," Aramith cut in firmly, stopping her mid-sentence.
Unbothered, she leaned in a little closer. "Don't worry. You'll get used to me eventually."
She reached toward his cheek, but he rolled out of bed, dodging her hand and springing to his feet.
His eyes landed on Mozrael, sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed, an open book resting on her lap. Her expression was unreadable—a mix of mild annoyance and reluctant amusement. Kesha, seated opposite, kept her gaze fixed fondly on him.
"Why are you two in my room?" Aramith asked, confused and still groggy.
Mozrael gave Kesha a look that clearly meant, You explain it.
Kesha chuckled. "Well, I came to keep you company while you slept. But Mozrael didn't trust me alone with you, so she tagged along. She felt your dignity was at stake, though I don't understand why." She tilted her head toward Mozrael, smirking. "But we ended up having a pretty good talk."
Mozrael narrowed her eyes slightly.
Kesha turned back to Aramith. "We could tell you what we talked about—"
"No!" Mozrael's voice shot out, sharp and embarrassed.
Kesha grinned. "Come on, don't be such a spoilsport. There's nothing wrong with—"
"I said no! He doesn't need to know that." Her face was turning red now.
Kesha sighed dramatically. "Fine, I won't tell him now."
"I said you can't tell him at all."
Kesha finally threw up her hands in surrender. "Okay, okay."
Aramith frowned, still trying to process. "Wait, what are you two even talking about?"
Kesha smiled slyly. "See? Now he wants to know."
Mozrael clutched the book to her chest, hiding her face. "It was just something between us as girls. You're not supposed to know."
"Hehe, maybe so—but we did talk about you," Kesha teased, patting the spot beside her. "Come on, I'll whisper it to you."
Aramith stayed standing, arms folded.
"Still shy, huh? That's fine. I can still tell you anyway. So we were comparing our—"
"Enough!" Mozrael slammed the book into Kesha's face, blushing furiously.
Kesha laughed, already pointing at Mozrael's chest.
Realizing what Kesha was doing, Mozrael grabbed her hand—but it was too late.
Aramith turned away awkwardly, face flushed.
Kesha's smile widened. "Oh, Aramith... I didn't know you'd look at us with that kind of intensity. But someone else is here, remember—"
"Just stop!"
"Just stop!"
Aramith and Mozrael spoke in unison, then looked at each other—and burst into laughter.
"What? What's so funny?" Kesha asked, genuinely puzzled.
Which only made them laugh harder.
The night was long and they talked long into the night—about the past, the strange twists of the day, even silly what-ifs. Eventually, they had dinner brought to Aramith's room instead of eating in the hall, enjoying the rare moment of peace.
Later, after the plates had been cleared, Kesha leaned back with a stretch. "I wonder if Lia's really as fun as you say she is. I guess I'll find out when she wakes up."
She said it so casually, so confidently, that it lit a fire in Aramith's chest.
"How do you know she will wake up?" he asked quietly.
"Huh? I gave you the antidote to cure her, didn't I? She should've been up that same day. I don't know why they're dragging it out."
Aramith frowned.
How could she joke about things like that?
When he found out, he was irritated himself, but he hadn't asked Kesha about it until now.
"They studied what you gave them, and it's not the cure to Lia's condition. I was told what you gave them is only good for killing worms." His tone was heavy, not with malice, anger, or hatred, but with disappointment.
"Of course, what did you think I gave you? She's unconscious because there are worms eating at her."
Realization dawned upon her, and she stood up, raising her voice louder as she frowned.
"So you're telling me the cure I gave you was scrapped?! Do you have any idea how difficult it was to get that? Apart from that, my nose never lies. I know what I smelled, and it certainly is because of worms. I can't believe you're letting the poor girl suffer more because of ignorance! If she's not treated quickly, she'll wake up with side effects." The words hovered on the edge of her tongue—blindness, paralysis, worse—but she bit them back. No point panicking them now. There was still time. There had to be.
Aramith's expression darkened. "Are you sure?"
"You think I'd lie about something like that?" Kesha shot back, making eye contact.
"But... can you prove you're right in this matter?"
That made her pause. She stared at him, her eyes unwavering, and said nothing.
Yet the silence was proof enough. She believed it with everything in her.
Aramith's heart started racing. If she was right...
"I want to go now—"
"I don't think we should rush this," Mozrael interrupted softly, knowing exactly what Aramith was off to do."I want to see Lia wake up too, but if Kesha's right, then we need to talk to Father about it properly in the morning. Besides..." she gestured toward the window. "It's late. They'd just tell us to wait anyway."
Aramith clenched his fists. His whole body itched to act, but Mozrael was right.
They would wait.
Just until morning.
He finally had hope, a way to redeem himself. It still hurt him that he couldn't be the one to help her, but at least now her suffering would be over.
With this kind of information, sleep never came to claim them, even though exhaustion weighed on them like a boulder.
Of the three, Aramith remained the most restless, itching to do something—anything.
Mozrael, too, found no rest—she sat on her bed hugging a pillow, her mind whirring with worry, missing Lia so dearly it ached, yet terrified of clinging too tightly to this new hope... because what if it didn't work?
Kesha retreated to her room, already preparing herself. She could guess Henndar wouldn't just believe her so easily. The thought of that girl still suffering in that 'sleep'—all because they doubted her cure—made something boil deep in her chest.
It was one thing to be skeptical. Fair. Understandable. But why not confront her directly? Why sit in silence and whisper that she'd given them the wrong item? Why treat her like some con artist while pretending everything was fine?
Kesha wasn't the type to dance around problems. If you had something to say, say it. She despised pretenders more than anything.
So, with stiff hands and sharper resolve, she began preparing a demonstration—a way to prove beyond doubt that her cure worked. It irritated her beyond reason that she even had to do this, but if this was what it took, fine.
When it was ready, she brought it to Aramith. He watched with mild curiosity at first... but curiosity soon turned to intrigue, then realization, then something close to regret. Because now it all made sense. Kesha had been right from the start.
He even admitted a detail from that night—a clue he'd brushed off, but that now clicked perfectly into place.
All that was left... was to wait for the sunrise.
Lia would wake up.. He was now certain.
Meanwhile, in the quiet of her room, Mozrael pressed her forehead against her knees, arms wrapped around the pillow like it was the only thing tethering her together, quietly rocking in her bed for hours. Her eyes stayed fixed on the window, where the faintest blush of dawn threatened to break the night. Please… please let her wake up. But even as that desperate plea filled her chest, another cruel whisper echoed behind it—what if it fails? What if this hope breaks too? The weight of both love and fear curled tight in her lungs, making it hard to breathe.