Chapter-43 Quiet Moment

The water pounded against Frederique's skin, scalding and relentless, washing away the phantom traces of blood that still clung to her memory. She kept her eyes closed, letting the heat sink deep into her muscles, steam curling around her like a veil. The scent of her lavender soap filled the small bathroom, sharp enough to chase away the lingering iron tang she swore still haunted her senses.

She hadn't even realized how long she had been standing there, hands braced against the cool tile, until the water began to cool. With a reluctant sigh, Frederique twisted the faucet off.

The quiet felt loud now.

Towels. Soft cotton. Rub the skin dry. Keep moving.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the fogged mirror as she passed. The steam blurred her reflection, but there was no hiding the changes. The red in her hair looked deeper, the natural curl heavier, almost wild. Her skin, once soft, seemed tauter, firmer, like it had been tempered by the things she had done.

Frideria's presence stirred.

" You look strong. Beautiful. Don't turn away."

Frederique exhaled sharply. She wasn't ready for this conversation. Not with herself. Not yet.

She threw on a loose black t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, the damp heat clinging to her skin as she stepped out of the bathroom.

Lira was sprawled across her couch, tangled in a pile of blankets that seemed to have materialized from nowhere. One was even draped dramatically over her head like a hood, leaving only her mischievous golden eyes visible.

She gasped, voice exaggeratedly scandalized.

"Is this a goddess emerging from the mist? My eyes... oh no, my heart..."

Frederique snorted, rubbing the towel through her damp hair.

"You're an idiot."

"An idiot with excellent taste, obviously."

Lira peeked out further, grinning.

"Besides, I'm just helping you lighten up. Your aura's been all..."

She waved a hand.

"Broody."

Frederique arched an eyebrow.

"My aura?"

"Yeah. All gloomy and intense, like a tragic anti-hero in one of those old dramas. I half expected you to quote poetry in the shower."

Frederique couldn't help the half-smile tugging at her lips.

"I was washing my hair, not mourning my lost love."

"Same vibe, though."

Lira winked, wiggling her fingers dramatically before sitting up properly.

"Come here. You look like you need some pampering."

Frederique hesitated, still clutching the towel.

"Pampering?"

Lira patted the space beside her, all mock-seriousness now.

" Yes. Sit down. It's a certified Lira healing session. No sulking allowed. Or I will tickle you."

With a huff, Frederique relented, sinking into the couch next to her. Lira immediately grabbed a brush from somewhere in the nest of blankets, holding it up like a weapon.

"Hairbrush therapy. Trust me, you'll thank me later."

Frederique blinked.

" You want to brush my hair?"

Lira grinned, already shifting behind her.

"Oh, I insist. You've been through a lot, and you look like a lion escaped from a thunderstorm. Just let me work my magic, okay?"

Before Frederique could protest, Lira had started gently running the brush through her damp hair, careful but thorough. The repetitive motion, the quiet sound of the bristles, was oddly soothing.

Minutes passed. Neither of them spoke, the only sounds the faint scratching of the brush and the occasional crackle of the scented candle still burning on the coffee table.

Frederique felt herself... relax.

Not completely... there was still tension wound tight in her chest... but this? This was nice.

Warm.

Safe.

"You know," Lira murmured, breaking the silence, "you really have gorgeous hair. The red? Very dramatic. Very 'main' character energy.'"

Frederique snorted.

"Right. Because that's what I'm going for."

Lira laughed, her fingers expertly detangling a stubborn knot.

"Oh, totally. Brooding anti-hero? Check. Dangerous supernatural powers? Double check. Tragic backstory? Working on it."

"Stop."

Frederique's face heated, but she couldn't stop the small smile.

"I'm serious! If this were a novel, I'd totally be the comic relief best friend."

Frederique blinked.

"Best friend?"

Lira froze, brush halfway through her hair, as if she'd just realized what she said. Her cheeks went pink, but she recovered with a grin.

"Yeah, obviously. Who else would make sure you actually take care of yourself? Plus, I give great pep talks. You're lucky to have me."

Frederique's heart twisted.

Warm.

Unfamiliar. She hadn't had someone like this since... well, ever.

"...Thanks, Lira."

Lira softened, the teasing smile gentler now.

"Hey. You'd do the same for me. And, you know, I'm not just here because someone sent me. I care. I see you, okay? You don't have to carry all this alone."

The words hit harder than Frederique expected.

She swallowed, nodding without speaking, not trusting her voice to stay steady.

Lira didn't push. She just kept brushing, the motions calming, the air lighter somehow.

Minutes passed in peaceful silence.

The candle flickered low. The storm outside had quieted.

Frederique let her eyes drift closed.

For the first time in days, the tension in her chest eased.

Then came the knock.

Sharp.

Measured.

Frederique's eyes snapped open.

The light mood evaporated instantly, tension coiling back into her shoulders as she sat up. Lira froze too, golden eyes narrowing toward the door.

They both felt it.

Cold.

Familiar.

' Eirlys.'

"Guess playtime's over," Lira muttered, standing and cracking her neck.

Frederique stood too, heart already thudding heavier.

Eirlys didn't knock without reason.

Steeling herself, Frederique moved toward the door and opened it.

Eirlys stood there, pale and composed as ever, her icy blue eyes fixed on her with that same unreadable expression. Her presence made the temperature in the room drop a degree.

"We need to talk."