Chapter 5: The Temptation of Discovery

The candlelight flickered weakly in Elara's private chamber, casting long shadows along the stone walls. The temple's nightly prayers had ended, and most of the clergy had retired to their rooms, leaving the corridors empty and silent. It was the only time she truly felt at ease—when the world around her was wrapped in darkness, when there were no prying eyes, no scrutinizing gazes, no questions she could not answer.

But she knew now that she was no longer as alone as she had once believed.

Sophia was watching her.

Elara sat on the edge of her bed, her fingers curling around the fabric of her robes. She replayed the scene in her mind—Sophia's voice, laced with something unspoken, something unsettling. I wonder just what our dear Saintess is hiding.

It had not been an accusation, nor a demand. It had been a game. A challenge.

She exhaled, her grip tightening. It was dangerous. It was exciting. The way Sophia had looked at her, the way her voice had curled around those words—it sent shivers down Elara's spine. Was it curiosity? Suspicion? Amusement?

She did not know. But she could not let her guard down.

Her gaze drifted to the hidden drawer beneath her bedside table. Slowly, she reached out, her fingers brushing against the polished wood before she pulled it open. Inside, carefully wrapped in cloth, were the small tools she had collected over the months. A thin blade stolen from an old, discarded relic. A handful of needles she had pilfered from the infirmary. Small, delicate things that brought her solace in ways nothing else could.

Her heart pounded as she picked up the blade, the metal cool against her fingertips. The urge curled in her stomach, insistent and demanding. The day had been long. The pressure had been suffocating. She needed this. Just a little. Just enough to remind herself that she was real.

She lifted the blade to the inside of her thigh, just beneath the hem of her nightgown. The sharp edge pressed into her skin, a sweet, stinging sensation that sent warmth flooding through her veins. She exhaled slowly, savoring the moment, her body shuddering in relief as a thin line of crimson bloomed against her pale flesh.

A knock at the door.

Her breath caught.

The blade slipped slightly, deepening the wound more than she had intended. A sharp hiss escaped her lips as she quickly pressed a hand against the cut, blood seeping between her fingers.

Another knock.

"Elara."

Sophia's voice.

Panic surged through her, but she forced herself to remain still. Her mind raced. The blood. The blade. If Sophia saw—

She grabbed a cloth from the table, pressing it against her thigh as she hastily shoved the blade back into the drawer. Taking a deep breath, she forced her voice to remain steady. "One moment."

She stood, wincing as the movement sent a sharp jolt of pain through her leg. The cut was deeper than usual. Careless. Too reckless. She had to be more careful.

Slowly, she made her way to the door, her fingers briefly brushing over the handle before she pulled it open.

Sophia stood there, her golden hair slightly disheveled, as if she had only just risen from bed. She was dressed in a loose nightgown, a cloak draped over her shoulders, and her emerald eyes gleamed in the dim candlelight.

"I hope I didn't wake you," Sophia said, her voice laced with something almost playful.

Elara smiled, a perfectly crafted expression of gentle patience. "Not at all. Is something the matter?"

Sophia tilted her head slightly, studying her. "I couldn't sleep," she admitted. "And I couldn't stop thinking about our conversation earlier."

Elara's pulse quickened. "Oh?"

A small smirk tugged at the corner of Sophia's lips. "You seemed… tense. Distracted."

Elara kept her expression serene, even as her fingers twitched against the doorframe. "I am merely tired," she said smoothly. "The responsibilities of the temple can be quite demanding."

Sophia stepped closer, close enough that Elara could feel the warmth radiating from her skin. "You know," she murmured, "I don't think you're a very good liar."

A chill ran down Elara's spine. But she did not flinch, did not waver. "I do not lie," she said softly.

Sophia's gaze flickered downward, just for a moment. A fleeting glance. But it was enough.

A slow, knowing smile spread across her lips. "I see," she said, stepping back. "Forgive me for disturbing you, Saintess. I'll take my leave."

Elara remained still, watching as Sophia turned, her bare feet silent against the stone floor as she disappeared down the corridor.

Only when she was gone did Elara finally exhale, her hands trembling slightly as she closed the door.

Morning came with the tolling of the temple bells, their chimes ringing through the halls like a divine command. Elara rose from bed, her body stiff from the events of the night before. The cut on her thigh ached, a dull reminder of her carelessness, but she ignored it as she dressed for the day.

She could not afford to make the same mistake twice.

As she stepped into the temple's main hall, she felt the weight of eyes on her. She glanced to the side, and there, among the other priestesses, stood Sophia.

She was watching her again.

Elara's heart pounded, but she forced herself to remain composed, offering Sophia a gentle nod before turning away. She could not let her see. She could not let anyone see.

But deep inside, something stirred.

The thrill of almost being caught. The temptation of discovery.

And the realization that, for the first time, someone was watching her not with concern.

But with curiosity. With interest.

And perhaps, just perhaps… with something far more dangerous.