Chapter 170: "Come To Me, Then"

This time, it was Aren’s turn to freeze.

Her eyes widened as she watched Jordan bring her finger to his mouth, his tongue sweeping casually over the pad of her thumb.

The sensation was startlingly intimate, far more personal than she’d expected, and a violent rush of heat climbed from her chest to her cheeks. She was certain the blush must have been visible from across the room.

Yet she didn’t pull away.

She simply stared at him in flustered silence, too surprised to decide what she was supposed to do.

The intensity of her gaze finally seemed to break through Jordan’s impulsive moment. He released both her finger and her wrist at once, an equally fierce flush spreading across his face.

"I’m... I’m sorry." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Maybe I... shouldn’t have done that."

Flustered, he reached for the napkin on the bedside cabinet, intending to wipe away any trace of his saliva from her finger, but Aren caught his hand before he could.

"It’s... fine," she mumbled shyly. "I... didn’t mind. I was just... surprised, I think."

The quiet admission eased something inside Jordan. He studied her flushed face for a moment, his heart giving an almost painful little squeeze.

’God, she looks way too adorable like this.’

’I really want to kiss her.’

At last, the impulse won once more.

He reached up to cup her face, pushing himself slightly higher against the pillows as he leaned toward her.

Aren’s eyes widened when she realized what he intended. Her heart gave a nervous little flutter, but she shyly leaned closer as well, drawn toward him almost despite herself.

Then—

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

Three sharp knocks sounded against the door, followed by a voice they both recognized immediately.

"Jordan? It’s Rosalia. I’ve come with Sofia and Oscar. We’ve come to check up on you. Can we come inside?"

The two of them sprang apart as though they’d been caught doing something far more scandalous than kissing.

Aren sat bolt upright, her cheeks burning, while Jordan dropped flat against the bed with a deeply frustrated groan.

"Urgh, God." He slapped a hand over his forehead. "These siblings of mine are going to kill me one day, Trials or no Trials."

Turning toward the door, he forced himself to sound as composed as possible.

"Yeah... come in. I’m inside."

The lock clicked.

The door swung open, and the three people standing outside promptly froze.

None of them had expected to find the Lombardi heiress there.

What shocked them even more, however, was the unmistakable flush coloring both her face and Jordan’s, with each of them suddenly looking in completely different directions.

It didn’t take long for the three visitors to understand exactly what they had interrupted.

Sofia was the first to react.

"All right. Forget it. I’m out of here."

She turned sharply on her heel, looking every bit like a woman attempting to flee a social disaster before it could become any worse.

Unfortunately, she didn’t make it far.

Rosalia’s hand shot out and caught her by the wrist before she could escape. With a calm smile, Rosalia took a decisive step into the room and dragged Sofia along with her, whether Sofia wanted to follow or not.

"Ah, I see you have your friend with you," Rosalia said pleasantly as her gaze landed on Jordan.

She looked toward Aren then, and when she finally spotted the box of cookies resting on the cabinet beside the cheesecake, her smile grew even warmer.

"Lady Ariana, I see you’ve brought more cookies with you today."

At the mention of cookies, every trace of embarrassment vanished from Aren’s face, replaced by bright excitement. She immediately grabbed the box and hurried toward Rosalia.

"Lady Rosalia! Look what I have today!"

She opened the box eagerly, revealing rows of cookies in a variety of flavors.

"I brought you the triple-chocolate espresso cookies you liked last time."

When she pointed to a neat row of brown cookies beside the nearly black ones, her expression brightened even further.

"And I got you some fudgy dark-chocolate rye cookies too, because I thought you liked cookies with a more bitter taste."

She looked up at Rosalia curiously.

"You like bitter flavors, don’t you?"

Rosalia laughed softly, which seemed to surprise both Sofia and Oscar.

"I do," she admitted. "I love anything with a strong, bitter taste."

She reached toward the box, but Oscar’s hand shot out first. He snatched up a strawberry-glazed cookie covered in pink sprinkles.

"Goodness, Ariana! You even know my favorite without asking? How did you know I’m a die-hard fan of anything strawberry?"

He stuffed the entire cookie into his mouth in one bite and chewed enthusiastically, completely unconcerned that his lips were now covered in pink crumbs.

Rosalia gave him a mildly judgmental look before turning toward Sofia, who had remained stiffly in place as though this room were the last place on earth she wanted to be.

"What about you, Sofia? Would you like a cookie?"

Aren immediately turned toward Sofia. Eagerness flashed across her face before she hastily tried to replace it with something more polite.

"Um... Lady Sofia, I’m very glad to see that you’ve recovered. I’m sorry I didn’t know what your favorite flavor was, so I only have these options."

Then a small, hopeful smile spread across her face.

"But if you let me know, I’ll gladly bring you whatever you like the next time I come here for work."

Sofia stared at her, then at the cookie box. Her expression suggested she believed Aren had just offered her a box of poisoned sweets.

"I don’t want any. I don’t like cookies, and I don’t want anything you bring me, so don’t even think about it. Ouch—"

Sofia jerked around and glared at Rosalia, who had just pinched her hand. She also found Rosalia regarding her with a perfectly flat, expectant stare.

Instantly, Sofia’s mouth snapped shut.

For several long seconds, the two sisters stared at each other in a silent battle of wills until, at last, Sofia’s shoulders sagged.

"Fine!" Sofia snapped, pulling out a green cookie. "I like these matcha cookies. Happy?"

She took an irritated bite and began chewing furiously.

The sight immediately brought a bright smile to Aren’s face.

"I’ll make sure to bring more matcha varieties next time!"

Rosalia, however, was not nearly finished. She pinched Sofia’s hand again and gave her another pointed look.

"Are you sure you haven’t forgotten anything?"

Sofia returned the stare with an expression that practically screamed:

’No way in hell I’m doing it.’

Unfortunately for Sofia, Rosalia didn’t appear remotely inclined to yield.

She simply held Sofia’s gaze, calm and unwavering, until Sofia’s discomfort became increasingly obvious.

At last, Sofia broke eye contact first and turned toward Aren with a deep scowl.

"Fine. I wanted to thank you for dragging me out of that trench in the Dark Room. But seriously, it’s not like I ever asked you to, so don’t even start—ouch!"

Rosalia remained perfectly calm.

"I don’t recall that being the version we agreed upon."

"All right, for God’s sake," Sofia groaned.

She finally yanked her hand free, then straightened and forced herself into a more composed posture.

"I admit you’ve changed drastically, Ariana Lombardi. And I suppose I should thank you for making sure I didn’t end up marrying a jerk."

She hesitated, as though the next words were physically difficult to say.

"...So keep behaving yourself decently. I suppose that would do Borgata a huge favor."

Despite the rigid reluctance dripping from Sofia’s words, warmth immediately spread across Aren’s face.

’Does that mean... Lady Sofia hates me a little less now?’

She dipped her head in genuine gratitude, her voice even lighter than before.

"It was no trouble, Lady Sofia. I only did what I was supposed to do. I’m just glad you’re all safe and well now!"

If Aren looked perfectly happy, Oscar, on the other hand, seemed thoroughly dissatisfied.

He fixed Sofia with a judgmental stare as he reached for what was already his fifth strawberry cookie.

"That wasn’t exactly a very polite thank-you speech compared to the previous one you attempted, big sis," he remarked.

"Then you go ahead and do it yourself!" Sofia snapped.

Oscar merely shrugged. "I ain’t the one who got her head knocked around in some trench and almost drowned."

"All right." Rosalia’s decisive voice cut in before the two siblings could launch into a full-scale argument. "That is enough. We shall take our leave now."

Oscar nearly choked on his cookie.

"Leave?" he repeated incredulously. "Um, hello? We’ve basically just arrived! We barely even made it to Jordan’s bed!"

"Well, he looks perfectly healthy, doesn’t he?" Rosalia replied, casually looking Jordan up and down. "He looks like he could return to duty tomorrow."

Jordan shot her a thoroughly flat look.

"Sadly, the doctor insists I remain on strict bed rest for at least two days, Rosalia. I suppose you’ll have to take care of my duties while I’m on sick leave."

He flicked a hand toward the door with absolutely no attempt at hospitality.

"Aren’t you all terribly busy today because of me? Go ahead and get back to work. There’s no need to stay. I’m perfectly fine here."

"Tch." Oscar clicked his tongue dramatically. "You just want us gone so you can spend time with Ariana, don’t you? We all saw you kiss her on the screens! Don’t get so full of yourself. Just wait until I’m eighteen. I’m going to ask her out on a date myself!"

The bold — and somewhat shocking — declaration barely had time to settle before Rosalia’s voice cut sharply across the room once more.

"That’s enough madness for one day. Get well soon, Jordan. Don’t laze around and make the rest of us do all your work for you."

When she turned toward Aren, however, her lukewarm calm dissolved, replaced by a warm smile.

"Next time, I’ll show you several cafés around here."

With that, she decisively turned on her heel, seized both Oscar and Sofia by the arm, and dragged them toward the door regardless of how loudly Oscar continued protesting.

"Wait! I haven’t even finished all my strawberry cookies!"

"Rosalia! Come on! I was talking to Ariana!"

Click.

The door finally closed behind them, restoring a blessed silence to the room.

Aren remained standing with the cookie box in her hands for several seconds, staring at the closed door as she tried to process the whirlwind of social chaos that had just descended upon the recovery room.

’That was the fastest patient visit I’ve ever seen...’

At last, she turned back toward Jordan and returned the box to the cabinet beside his bed.

"What a shame. I wanted to give them the whole box, but everything happened so quickly."

Jordan watched the disappointment settle over her features and felt a smile return to his face.

"You could always ask a soldier to bring it to Rosalia’s quarters. She can distribute them herself. That way, you can make sure Oscar doesn’t eat the entire box and Sofia doesn’t reject them outright."

He reached for Aren’s hand again, his smile softening as his fingers closed gently around hers.

"But honestly... I’m glad to see you and Rosalia getting along so well. I didn’t expect Sofia to thank you in person, either. That’s almost unheard of."

Aren blinked. "Is she rarely ever like that?"

"Yeah." He chuckled softly at the thought. "Sofia is proud and extremely stubborn, you know. She’d rather cut out her own tongue than say something she doesn’t want to say."

A teasing smile spread across Aren’s face as she looked directly into his eyes.

"Someone I know is also extremely stubborn."

Jordan laughed aloud, only to wince immediately when the movement tugged at his wound.

"Yeah, you’re right. I am stubborn." His expression softened as he looked at her. "Especially when it comes to you."

He gave her hand a gentle tug, affection shining openly in the warm hazel of his eyes.

"Do you mind... if we continue where we left off?"

Aren understood exactly what he meant. Without hesitation, she moved to sit beside him on the bed and placed both hands gently against his chest.

"Stay where you are," she murmured, leaning down before Jordan could attempt to push himself upright again. "Let me come to you."

Something inside Jordan melted at the words. He reached up and drew her face closer, his voice dropping into something softer and quieter.

"Come to me, then."