Comfort

"Are you okay?" Eren Lacquier's voice broke through the haze in my mind.

I blinked and looked up, realizing I was sitting at one of the wooden stools in the recruits' kitchen. Eren stood in front of me, holding out a steaming cup of tea. The warm aroma of chamomile and honey filled the air, but it did little to soothe the storm inside me.

"I…" I hesitated, my words catching in my throat.

Eren didn't press. Instead, he slid the cup into my trembling hands, his touch light but grounding. "Drink," he said simply, his tone soft but firm.

I nodded mutely and took a sip. The tea was warm and comforting, but my thoughts were anything but. My hands clutched the cup tightly, as if it were the only thing tethering me to reality.

I had run here instinctively after the Countess and Cressand dismissed me. Their sharp gazes and cryptic words still echoed in my mind, each one a dagger of doubt and confusion. I must have looked so lost and disoriented that they had no choice but to let me go.

But here, in the familiar kitchen, surrounded by the faint clatter of pots and pans and the hum of distant chatter, I felt like I could breathe again—if only barely.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Eren said, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. His sharp eyes watched me carefully, but there was no judgment in them. Only concern.

I couldn't tell him what had just happened. I couldn't tell him that the Countess and the crown prince had confronted me, called me by a name that wasn't mine, and accused me of sins I didn't remember committing.

But I had to say something.

"I…" I started, then paused to gather my thoughts. "I just had a… strange conversation."

Eren tilted his head slightly, waiting for me to continue. His patience was disarming, and for a moment, I considered telling him everything. But no—I couldn't. Not yet.

"With the Countess?" he guessed, his voice low.

My fingers tightened around the cup. "Yeah," I admitted. "And the prince. They… they said some things that didn't make sense."

Eren frowned, his brows knitting together. "What kind of things?"

I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. "Just… stuff about the past. Things I supposedly did, but I don't remember."

His gaze sharpened slightly, but he didn't interrupt.

"They were talking like I'm someone else," I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. "Like they know me—know me better than I know myself."

Eren pushed off the counter and moved closer, his presence steady and reassuring. "And what did you tell them?"

I let out a bitter laugh. "What could I say? I told them I didn't know what they were talking about. But the way they looked at me…" I trailed off, shaking my head.

"Like they didn't believe you?"

"Exactly," I murmured.

Eren was silent for a moment, his expression thoughtful. Then he placed a hand on my shoulder, his grip firm but not overbearing. "Listen," he said, his voice steady. "Whatever they said, it doesn't define you. You're here now, and that's what matters."

I looked up at him, surprised by his sincerity. "Do you really think that?"

He nodded without hesitation. "I don't know what they see when they look at you, but I know what I see. And I see someone who's fought harder than anyone else to get here."

His words brought a lump to my throat. I wanted to believe him—needed to believe him. But the weight of the Countess's words still hung heavy on me.

"Thanks," I said quietly, managing a small smile.

Eren smiled back, his usual easygoing demeanor returning. "Anytime. Now, finish your tea before it gets cold. And if you need someone to talk to, you know where to find me."

As he turned back to the stove, I watched him with a mixture of gratitude and unease. Eren's kindness was genuine, but I couldn't help but wonder—how much longer could I keep the truth buried?

And more importantly, how long would it take before the past I didn't remember came crashing down on me?