Ch 25: Just Say It

The map was spread across the table, edges curled from use. Golden light from the high manor windows poured over the inked lines—routes, border markings, sigils for teleportation gates. I'd already run the numbers in my head three times.

"Teleportation from Emberhold to Nyrowen should be clean," I murmured. "A minute at most, if the lines aren't clogged. House Cindros does love their paperwork."

No response.

I glanced up.

Lira was standing beside me, same as always. Except—no sharp remark, no adjustment of my plan, no dry warning about getting myself killed. Just silence. Her gaze wasn't on the map. It was on me.

Too still.

Too quiet.

Something was wrong.

"Lira," I said slowly, "did I mess up again?"

She shook her head—but too quickly.

"No, young master. Everything is as it should be.

That line again.

I studied her. The stiffness in her shoulders, the flicker of hesitation in her voice. She wasn't just distracted. She was shutting down.

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "What's bothering you?"

A pause.

"Is it because of Seraphine?"

She didn't answer. Didn't even pretend to. Just turned slightly, as if preparing to leave.

"Lira." My voice stopped her. "Be honest."

Silence.

"…Do you like me?.

Her body went still.

The question hung there, ridiculous and heavy. But I didn't take it back.

She turned her head slightly. "We leave at first light."

And she stepped back.

I caught her wrist before she could leave and pulled her into a hug.

She froze.

Not resisting, not leaning in—just frozen, like touch short-circuited something in her. Her body was stiff, her breath shallow, and I could feel how tightly she was holding herself together.

"Lira," I asked softly, "why are you so worried?"

She hesitated.

Then, very quietly, "Because if I tell you… you'll leave me."

I held her tighter.

"You think I'd abandon you?" I asked, almost disbelieving.

Her arms lifted slowly. One wrapped around my back. The other trembled. Her voice was small.

"I'm not supposed to feel anything. I was meant to protect you. Not… want you."

I eased her back gently and guided her to sit on the bench by the window. She followed, mechanical in her movements.

"You know," I said, sliding in beside her, "the whole 'maid falls for noble' thing isn't exactly uncommon.

She didn't react.

"Plenty of nobles keep lovers in the staff. Some even marry them. What's not normal is acting like your feelings are some world-ending secret."

Still, she said nothing.

"It's not the maid thing, is it?" I asked. "It's something else."

Lira stared down at her hands, fingers twisting into the hem of her skirt. Then, almost too quietly to hear—

"It's what I am besides that."

I waited.

Her voice was thin. Unsteady.

"I wasn't always like this. I used to be just… a kid. Nothing special. Then one day, someone I cared about got hurt. Badly. And something inside me snapped."

A pause.

"I don't remember what I did. Just the blood. The body. My hands." Her throat bobbed. "After that, it started happening whenever I felt too much. My strength surged. My skin burned. Sometimes I—craved blood. Not like a beast. Just... like something in me whispered yes."

I didn't move.

"The villagers were afraid. They tied me to a post and lit the fire."

A beat.

"I only lived because she was passing through."

"…My mother," I said quietly.

Lira nodded. "She stopped her carriage, stepped out, and told them to let me go.

They did. She looked at me and didn't see a monster. She saw something in me I still haven't seen in myself."

That sounded exactly like her.

"She brought me here. Taught me how to control it. Made me your shadow. Your blade. Your ghost. And I tried, Brandy. I tried to forget what I was. What I still am."

"And what are you?" I asked, watching her closely.

She didn't answer right away.

"When I lose control," she whispered, "I stop feeling human. I don't know if I am anymore."

I didn't flinch.

Instead, I reached up and gently held her face in my hands. Made her look at me.

"I already knew you were different," I said. "You think I haven't noticed? You never tire. You're stronger than me, and we're both Grade 2. You move like your body doesn't follow the same rules as ours. Like you were made for something more."

Her eyes searched mine.

"But I don't care. Demon, spirit, cursed blood—it doesn't matter. You've never hurt me. You've protected me. Again and again."

I leaned in slightly, voice low.

"You're more human than half the people I know. You're loyal, stubborn, and terrifying when you're angry. That's enough for me."

She blinked hard, like she was trying not to cry.

"You're mine, Lira. That's not changing."

Her lip trembled, and she leaned into my shoulder without a word.

At some point, her breathing slowed.

Sleep came for her in pieces, and when it did, she stayed close—resting her head gently against my arm, curled into herself like she didn't quite believe she was allowed to rest.

I didn't move.

The fire in the hearth had burned down low. The silence now was warm. Real.

I looked at her, then past her, to the quiet windows and the shadowed walls beyond.

And I thought of my mother.

She always seemed to be exactly where she needed to be. At the right time. Making the kind of decisions others called insane—until they worked.

She'd seen a girl covered in blood, marked for death, and decided she wasn't a danger.

She was an asset.

She was mine.

And… she'd been right.

I looked down at Lira, still sleeping lightly against my arm, and allowed myself the smallest smile.

"She made the right call," I murmured.