Chapter 30: Meeting (Part 2)

"Arden?"

​Her voice was like the soft ring of silver bells over the distant splash of the garden fountains. Arden froze, his hand involuntarily tightening around the silver Arby crest tucked inside his tunic.

​Elena stepped away from the marble balustrade, the pale violet silk of her dress swishing gently against the stone path. The quiet melancholy that had hovered over her just moments ago dissolved, replaced by a warmth that made Arden's chest feel suddenly too tight.

​"Lady Elena," Arden stammered, offering a quick, slightly clumsy bow. He felt the blood rush to his ears. "I... I apologize if I'm intruding. I was just wandering through the estate and..."

​"Don't be ridiculous, Arden," Elena let out a soft, genuine laugh, taking a few steps closer, "you are a guest of our house. Please, come in."

​She gestured toward the wrought-iron table set beneath the shade of the rose trellis, "I had no idea you'd arrived, please forgive me for not greeting you." She said.

"There is nothing to forgive, my Lady," Arden answered as he bowed. 

"Though I really should get going, my Lady. I wouldn't want to intrude on your rest." He hesitated, shifting his weight.

​"You are my guest, and a dear friend from the Academy," Elena interrupted smoothly, her sapphire eyes shining with quiet persistence. "Besides, I was about to have tea alone. I would much prefer the company." 

She turned to the two handmaidens standing nearby. "Lysa, please bring another cup and a tray of those honeyed pastries."

​"Right away, Lady Elena," the maid bowed, scurrying off toward the palace kitchens.

​Arden reluctantly took a seat across from her, sitting up rigid and careful not to spill a drop as Elena poured a steaming stream of tea into his cup.

​"How was your journey to Rosehall?" she asked, setting the porcelain pot down. "And how have you been since the Academy break started? It's been months since we last spoke."

​"The journey was fine," Arden said, holding the delicate cup in his hands for warmth. "I’ve been staying with Sullivan at the Arby estate for the break. Viscount Roland was kind enough to take me in. Mostly, we've just been training, helping around the grounds, and keeping up with our swordwork."

​Elena smiled warmly, resting her chin on her hand as she watched him. "It sounds wonderful. It’s nice to have friends who look out for you like that. Sullivan can be a bit boisterous, but his heart is in the right place."

​"Yeah," Arden agreed softly, a small smile breaking through his nervousness. "He's a good man." 

He paused, looking across the table at her, taking in the faint dark circles beneath her eyes that even the light makeup couldn't fully hide. "What about you, Lady Elena? How have things been here?"

​Elena smiled warmly. 

"Please drop the honorifics, it's just us after all," she said as she took a sip of tea herself.

"In truth, preparations for the debut have been a bit overwhelming, but..." She hesitated as she swirled the brown liquid with her cup, "that's not really what weighs on me."

​Arden leaned forward, his brow furrowing in concern. "I noticed when we first arrived... the land, it seems parched, and the air feels heavy. Is something wrong?"

​Elena sighed, "It’s the drought. It started in the northern hamlets years ago, but now it’s reaching the heart of Rosehall. The aqueducts are drying up, the crops are suffering, and my father is at his wits' end trying to find a solution. No matter where we dig or what channels we divert, the water simply vanishes."

​Arden felt a knot of worry tighten in his stomach. A regional drought of this scale wasn't just a political headache, it threatened thousands of common lives. "Is there nothing the mages can do?"

​"Nothing so far," Elena said quietly.

​She turned her gaze outward, looking past the rose trellis toward the dry, cracked hills stretching out beyond the palace walls. The morning sun caught the golden strands of her hair, haloing her delicate profile in light.

​Arden sat spellbound. Looking at her now, so breathtaking, so ethereal, yet bearing the weight of an entire duchy on her delicate shoulders, he felt a sharp, sudden ache bloom in his chest. 

A quiet longing that went far deeper than simple admiration. He wanted to reach out, to take her hand, to promise her that he would figure it out, that he would fix whatever was plaguing her home...

​He took a slow breath, opening his mouth to speak—

​Suddenly, the heavy tread of armored boots against the stone path broke the quiet stillness of the garden patio.

​Led by a palace steward, Edric stepped out from beneath the shaded archway, his dark fur cloak draped over one shoulder. He was simply following the path toward the high wing accommodations, moving with quiet, unbothered posture, when the open patio came into view.

​Edric paused mid-stride. Right at his shoulder, Serah stopped instantly, her hand instinctively dropping to the pommel of her sword as her sharp eyes swept the scene. Behind them, the four Artos guards halted in tight formation, the wooden crates held firm in their grip.

​Across the garden patio, Arden froze, his hand dropping to his side as he found himself locking eyes with the silver-haired Marquess.

Edric’s golden eyes swept over the quiet tea table, lingering on Arden for a fraction of a second before shifting to Elena. He didn't make a scene, nor did his expression betray even a ripple of anger. Instead, his gaze remained entirely flat, cool, detached, and utterly indifferent.

Across the patio, the air grew thick with tension. Arden’s shoulders went rigid, his knuckles turning white where his hand gripped the arm of his chair.

Elena stared up at the young Marquess, her breath catching softly in her throat. It was Edric, there was no mistaking the silver hair nor the golden eyes, and yet he looked entirely unfamiliar. 

The broad, soft contours of his face were gone, replaced by lean, chiseled lines. He had shed a staggering amount of weight since they last saw each other at the Academy, leaving him looking taller, leaner, and far more formidable.

Breaking the heavy silence, Elena stood, smoothing down her violet dress as she offered a polite, graceful bow.

"Marquess Edric," she began, her tone measured despite her surprise. "Please accept my apologies for not being present alongside my father to receive you. I was unaware of your arrival today."

"Think nothing of it, Lady Elena. It seems you were rather... occupied." Edric replied smoothly, his tone dry, laced with a faint touch of sarcasm. 

Arden immediately pushed his chair back and stood up, stepping slightly in front of Elena. His chest tightened, bracing for the inevitable storm. 

He knew Edric's temper from the Academy, he fully expected the Marquess to throw a fit, raise his voice, or hurl accusations and demand another duel right then and there.

"Apologies, Lord Edric," Arden said, his voice clipped, holding his chin up. "It was my fault. I kept Lady Elena from her duties."

Edric looked at Arden. He didn't sneer. He didn't shout. He didn't reach for his sword. He simply gave a faint, almost imperceptible shrug.

"I care not," Edric said plainly. "My lady is free to spend her time as she wishes."

The words fell flat, completely deflating the hostility Arden had prepared himself for. Edric didn't even bother to give Arden a second glance, dismissing him as effortlessly as a speck of dust on his cloak.

Turning his attention back to Elena, Edric asked, "Tell me, Lady Elena, does this estate possess a library?"

Elena blinked, thrown off by the question. "A... library? Yes, of course. The east wing holds the grand archives."

"Good," Edric said calmly. "Then I would like to ask you to intercede on my behalf to the Duke. I would like to be given access to it."

"O-of course, lord Edric," Elena stammered, unable to hide the bewilderment in her voice. 

Edric? In a library? Elena thought. The Edric she knew held no love for such places, much less reading.

"My thanks," Edric said with a curt, formal nod. "If there is nothing further, my retinue is tired from the road, and we wish to rest before evening."

Without waiting for a reply, Edric gestured to the palace steward. The old servant snapped out of his trance, bowing hastily and leading the way up the path toward the high wing accommodations. Serah fell in step behind Edric, casting one last piercing glance at Arden over her shoulder before following her lord.

Elena stayed standing by the table, her blue eyes locked onto Edric's broad shoulders. She watched the dark fur cloak sweep behind his lean frame until he disappeared around the marble colonnade.

"That was..." Arden started, his voice trailing off as he stared at the empty archway, utterly bewildered. "I had expected an outburst."

Elena didn't answer right away. She simply stared at the corridor where Edric had vanished, her mind racing to reconcile the arrogant boy from the Academy with the cold, distant man who had just walked away.