A sisters comfort

The dimly lit corridor stretched before Lysara as she made her way toward Evelyne's chambers. The castle was silent at this late hour, save for the occasional flickering of torches lining the stone walls. Her feet carried her with purpose, though she hadn't quite formulated what she would say.

Stopping before the large wooden door, she took a breath before rapping her knuckles against it.

"Evelyne," she called softly at first. When no response came, she knocked again, louder this time. "Evelyne, wake up."

A moment later, the door swung open to reveal a groggy, irritated Evelyne. Her golden locks were slightly disheveled, and her sharp eyes glinted with annoyance as she registered her sister standing there.

"Lysara?" she muttered, rubbing at her eyes. "Do you have any idea what time it is? I was sleeping—"

Before she could launch into a full reprimand, Lysara stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her in a sudden embrace. Evelyne stiffened in surprise. Her sister had always been reserved, not one for casual affection.

"…What's wrong?" Evelyne asked, concern quickly replacing her irritation. She tentatively returned the hug, resting her chin atop Lysara's shoulder. She was older than her but Lysara had now grown taller.

"Nothing," Lysara replied after a moment, pulling away. "I just… missed you. We haven't had much time together lately, and now, you're about to get married."

Evelyne narrowed her eyes, unconvinced. "That doesn't sound like you."

Lysara merely offered a small smile and stepped inside the room. Evelyne sighed and shut the door behind them. She sat on the edge of her bed, motioning for Lysara to do the same.

"Tell me what's really bothering you," Evelyne urged, but Lysara only shook her head. Realizing she wouldn't get an answer, Evelyne leaned back on her hands. "Fine, but I get to talk about my awful day first."

Lysara chuckled. "That was my plan anyway."

Evelyne exhaled dramatically. "It started early. Caelum arrived outside my door, all smiles and confidence, prepared to 'sweep me off my feet,' as he so proudly claimed. He took me to a high-rise hotel within the kingdom courts, one that he had bought out entirely just for our date."

Lysara raised an eyebrow. "He bought out an entire hotel?"

"Yes." Evelyne sighed. "He thought it would impress me. And I suppose it should have, but all I could feel was discomfort. He had everything arranged—the finest foods from across the land, the best wines, the most skilled musicians playing in the background."

"That all sounds… extravagant."

"It was," Evelyne confirmed, her tone dry. "But it wasn't for me. It was for his own ego. He wanted me to be amazed, to adore his efforts, but I couldn't. He spent the entire meal talking about himself—his training, his victories, his 'great qualities as a ruler.' I barely got a word in, and when I did, he barely listened."

Lysara hummed in understanding. "And the worst part?"

"He took me to a jewelry shop after," Evelyne said, rubbing her temples. "He wanted to buy me something extravagant. I refused, obviously, given our delicate situation, but he insisted. He picked out the most expensive piece in the shop and handed it to me, expecting me to accept it like some swooning girl. I felt… trapped."

Lysara studied her sister's face, seeing the exhaustion in her normally composed features. "Evelyne," she said gently, "why are you forcing yourself into this? You don't love him."

Evelyne's jaw tightened. "Love isn't the point."

"It should be."

Evelyne shook her head. "You know as well as I do that love isn't what drives these unions. Duty is. Responsibility is."

Lysara sighed, frustrated by her sister's stubbornness. "For once, I wish you would do what your heart desires."

Evelyne smiled wistfully. "If I did that, I'd be as reckless as you."

Lysara smirked. "Perhaps a little recklessness wouldn't be so bad."

The two sisters sat in companionable silence for a moment before Lysara stretched and shifted the conversation. "Marienne sends her regards, by the way. She was disappointed not to see you at the festival."

Evelyne's expression softened. "I wish I could have been there. How was it?"

Lysara grinned mischievously. "Eventful. Your dear Laurien seemed rather glum. I'd wager he spent his wish on making sure you don't fall for Caelum."

Evelyne blinked before laughing softly. "You think so?"

"I know so."

Before they could delve further into the conversation, a sudden knock at the door made them both tense. Evelyne's gaze darted toward the entrance, while Lysara instinctively reached for the small dagger she kept hidden in her belt.

"Who is it?" Evelyne called, carefully making her way toward the door.

A familiar voice responded. "It's Laurien."

Evelyne furrowed her brows and opened the door, revealing the foreign prince standing awkwardly in the hallway. He offered a sheepish smile.

"What are you doing here so late?" Evelyne asked, tilting her head.

Laurien hesitated. "I… couldn't sleep."

Lysara narrowed her eyes at the obvious excuse.

"Couldn't sleep," Evelyne repeated, unconvinced.

Laurien rubbed the back of his neck. "I just needed some fresh air, and I happened to be passing by."

Lysara snorted. "How convenient."

Laurien shot her a look, but before he could respond, she held up a hand. "You two enjoy your late-night chat. I'll leave you to it."

With a lingering glance at Evelyne, Lysara stepped past Laurien and out into the corridor, giving them their space. As she walked away, she smirked to herself.

Perhaps Laurien's wish wasn't far from the truth after all.