Death, it's the least significant thing I'm willing to do for you.
When these words reached Tiya's ears, she stood frozen in place, her grip on the hem of her dress loosening subconsciously.
There were no flowery phrases, nor declarations of undying love.
Just the simplest promise, spoken plainly.
Coming from the boy's lips, it seemed as mundane as asking, "Have you eaten?"
Normally, when men said such words, Tiya would feel nothing but disdain.
Even her idolized Xiya brother was the type to act more and speak less.
Less talk, more action—that was his trademark.
He rarely engaged in anything resembling romance.
All these years, Tiya believed herself to have a strong resistance to such things, scoffing at those overly sentimental musings, unable to comprehend why some love-struck women could fall for mere sweet nothings.
But now, in this moment, she realized how wrong she had been.