Drifting Apart

Aramith found himself in the library as usual, surrounded by towering bookshelves and the scent of old parchment. Across the room, Mozrael sat at a table, deeply engrossed in a book. He hesitated at the entrance, observing her for a moment. There was no flicker of acknowledgment, no glance in his direction—just the steady turn of pages. She was too engrossed in what she read.

He debated calling out to her, but before he could decide, a familiar voice chirped behind him.

"Aramith! You've been hiding here all morning." Kesha appeared beside him, a playful smirk on her lips. Before he could respond, she looped an arm around his and pulled him along. "Come on! I know a better place to relax."

Aramith sighed but didn't resist. Kesha's antics had become a daily occurrence, and he had long since learned that arguing was futile.

The garden was bathed in a soft breeze, the scent of blooming flowers lingering in the air. Aramith settled onto the stone bench beneath a sprawling tree, arms crossed as Kesha plopped down beside him. With a flick of her fingers, two glasses floated into her hands, followed by a conjured jug of fruit juice. Aramith just accepted it with a sigh.

"You can't just live off books," Kesha teased, pouring them both a drink. "You need fresh air, good company, and- oh!"

The moment she handed him a cup, it tilted forward, spilling its contents onto his robes. The cool liquid seeped into the fabric, darkening the material.

Kesha gasped dramatically. "Oh! My hands slipped!"

A maid nearby immediately rushed forward, concern flashing across her face. "Your Highness! Allow me-"

Kesha raised a hand, stopping her. "No need! I'll take care of him." Before Aramith could object, she latched onto his wrist and dragged him away. He sighed again. He had already planned to go back to his room to change, so he might as well let her have her way.

As they disappeared inside, the maid turned to another, whispering, "Who is she?"

The second maid gave her a look of disbelief. "You don't know? That's the prince's fiancée."

"What? At that age?"

They hadn't noticed, but the arrival of Kesha and her antics had been a known issue spreading like wildfire. Almost everyone within the palace knew of her engagement with Aramith. It wouldn't be long before the news left the walls to the streets and all people found out. The only mystery however was her origin. Very few knew where she hailed from.

Meanwhile, Aramith struggled to keep Kesha from undressing him in his own chambers. She had already made an attempt at disrobing him before he finally managed to push her out, shutting the door in her face. He exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples before swiftly changing into fresh clothes. He had to wait very long till he heard her say she needed to go get something before he could escape.

Later, he returned to the library, intent on picking up where he had left off. But when he arrived, Mozrael was gone.

He started to realize she was absent for most of the day.

At first, he didn't think much of it. She was with Lia, no doubt, staying by her side like she always had, waiting for the moment she'd wake. And who could blame her? He, too, wanted to see Lia open her eyes again. But each time he thought about it, a weight settled in his chest. He wasn't ready yet. Not to face Lia. Not to face the reality of what had happened. Not to face the guilt gnawing at him.

So he kept himself busy. He read.

Hours passed in the library, surrounded by books and silence. Mozrael had always been there with him before, even if she didn't read as much as he did. But now, she was absent. He caught glimpses of her sometimes, though only when he was heading elsewhere. And even then, she never lingered, never uttered a word. She just passed by like a ghost.

Kethra, on the other hand, saw more than he did. Spending her time with Lia, she noticed Mozrael's visits. How the girl sat there, quiet but distant. How her eyes were heavy with thoughts, not just sorrow. At first, Kethra assumed Mozrael was simply worried for Lia, but the more she watched, the more she realized Mozrael was carrying something else, something that weighed her little heart, something heavier something that made her hesitate, something that made her avoid.

Aramith was in the middle of reading when he felt Kesha's presence beside him. He had expected another one of her antics, her usual excitement, her overbearing energy. But this time, she only smiled and took a seat beside him.

"If you keep that up, you'll dry your eyes out," she mused, peering at the book in his hands. "Have you even blinked in the past hour?"

He sighed. "Kesha."

"Yes, husband?"

His eyes twitched. "Stop calling me that."

She ignored him entirely, leaning closer to glance at the pages. "Ah, so you're reading about that." She tapped her finger against a passage, her voice suddenly calm, composed. "This part explains the classification of relics and how different enchantments affect them. You probably don't need to read this entire section. It just repeats itself in a fancier way."

He blinked. She was very intelligent and proved that point on many occasions, but it still amazed him how she could discern so much from seeing so little.

She grinned at his surprised expression. "What? You think I don't know these things? I am your wife, after all. It's only right that I help you with your studies."

"You're not my wife," he muttered

And just like that, the moment of normalcy shattered. He groaned, turning back to his book as she rested her chin on her hand, watching him with amusement.

Two days passed, and everyone seemed to have settled into a pattern.

Aramith found himself buried deeper in books, though his focus wavered. Kesha had taken it upon herself to assist in his studies, glancing over texts and offering explanations. However, as she spoke today, his mind drifted elsewhere.

"Aramith?"

No response.

She frowned and leaned closer. "Aramith!"

Still, nothing. His eyes remained fixed on the page, but he wasn't reading. Huffing, she poked his cheek.

"Aramith! Are you even listening to me?"

He blinked, snapping out of his daze. "Huh? What?"

Kesha sighed, feigning exasperation. "What am I going to do with you? Here I am, being such a wonderful wife, helping you learn, and you're not even paying attention."

She observed him closely as he tried to refocus, yet his mind continued to wander. Taking a different approach, she leaned on the table with a playful smile. "I wonder if this has anything to do with a certain sister of yours acting like we don't exist."

Aramith shot her a warning glance. "Kesha."

"What? It's true. She barely acknowledges us. It's like she's trying to disappear. Maybe she finally realized she lost. Heh." She smirked, folding her arms smugly.

Aramith sighed. "She's just… spending time with Lia. That's all."

Kesha raised an eyebrow. "That's what you keep telling yourself. But if she's just with Lia, then why does she look so miserable? Why does she look like she's—"

Mozrael, approaching the library to retrieve a book, halted just outside the door as their voices carried. She hadn't intended to listen, but her name caught her attention. Peeking slightly inside, she watched from the shadows.

Aramith exhaled deeply, running a hand through his hair. "I don't blame her for avoiding me. I can't even bring myself to look at Lia. I should've been the one to protect her. Not Mozrael. And now Mozrael thinks she has to take responsibility because I failed."

Mozrael stiffened.

Kesha tilted her head. "You're still blaming yourself? Even after everything?"

Aramith clenched his fists. "Of course, I am. I wasn... dangerous. And now Mozrael… she's better off not being near me. She deserves more than a brother who keeps failing her."

She stiffened. Her breath hitched as the words sank in. He was blaming himself.

But why? He shouldn't be the one thinking that way.

Her fingers loosened their grip. She almost stepped forward, almost called out to correct him—to tell him it wasn't his failure. It was hers. She was the one who couldn't do anything. The one who only got in the way.

But then, as the weight of that realization pressed against her, she hesitated. The words withered in her throat, unspoken. Her hands clenched at her sides. No, there was no point in saying anything.

A quiet breath escaped Mozrael's lips. She stepped back, retreating before they could notice her. The words echoed in her head, solidifying what she had already come to believe.

Useless.

She wasn't what he needed. Kesha was.

With that, she turned and left.

Kethra sat on the edge of their bed, fingers absently tracing the embroidered patterns on the sheets. Henndar stood nearby, watching her in silence before finally moving to sit beside her.

"She's still not waking up," Kethra murmured, eyes fixed outside. "Lia's condition isn't changing."

Henndar exhaled, pressing her hand softly. "Aiden's close to finding a cure," he assured her. "He just needs a little more time."

She nodded but didn't look at him. "Even so… Aramith and Mozrael. They're slipping further apart. I don't think either of them even realizes it."

Henndar also looked out, thoughtful. "Aramith has Kesha hounding him at every turn. She's… intense, but at least she's keeping his mind occupied."

"She is," Kethra admitted. "But Mozrael… she's just fading. She hardly speaks to him anymore. If we don't do something, they might get too used to the distance."

Henndar spoke carefully. "That's not happening."

Kethra turned to him, watching the way his usual easy smile turned sharper, more certain. There was something in his expression, something knowing.

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

"I already have something planned," Henndar said, standing. "Just trust me."

Kethra hesitated, but after a moment, she sighed. "You and your schemes," she muttered. "Fine. Just don't make things worse."

Henndar grinned. "Have a little faith."

She shook her head, but the corners of her lips twitched.

Even if she didn't know what he was planning, at least for now, she was willing to trust him.