123 — A Sharp Blade

"How are the preparations for the annual banquet coming along?" Lucian asked, breaking the heavy silence at the dining table.

Cynthia seemed to have been avoiding him ever since their return from his last mission, when his nightmares began—vivid, as if they were long-forgotten memories resurfacing, robbing him of sleep.

He had given her space, doing his best not to intrude on her evident discomfort. She was still hurt when he rejected her 'love' for him. Even so, she had helped him, likely because of those lingering feelings. The thought squeezed his chest, making it harder to breathe, but he couldn't bring himself to mention it again.

"Yes, it's almost ready. We have another two days left," Cynthia replied, her tone calm and composed as always.

Seeing her act as if nothing had happened only deepened Lucian's pain. He gritted his teeth, clutching the spoon in his hand.

"I had—"