Days passed like fading seasons beneath the shifting skyline. After that night, Darian did not return to our quarters for several days, and I did not summon him through our secure channel nor dispatch a runner to seek him. The silence between us no longer felt oppressive—only distant, like a corridor separating offices in the family estate.

On the third day, his message flickered through the encrypted line. He claimed he was traveling with the family’s enforcers to settle trade disputes beyond our territory and even sent word of his whereabouts through a courier.

Very well. Be careful, I replied through the channel. A quiet, bitter laugh escaped me after closing the link.

Not long after, I saw Selara’s announcement posted on the estate’s public board. Her words were meant for all to see: “My first outing in many months. I never thought I’d crave sweets so badly! Someone insisted on buying it for me.”

A photograph accompanied the note—Darian’s hand offering the confection. His wedding ring—our family seal forged in silver and blessed before the Don—still rested on his finger. The location she marked matched the very spot he had claimed to be.

The ring on my hand burned like a coal from the forge of loyalty. Without hesitation, I removed it and placed it inside the wooden chest. From that day onward, I buried myself in my duties at the physician’s quarters and within the family’s ledgers. Work became my refuge, a shield against the rising storm in my chest. The question of when Darian would return became irrelevant, drowned by the rhythm of my responsibilities.

Then, unexpectedly, he arrived one evening after my shift ended. His horse stood outside the physician’s grounds, steam rising in the cool air.

“Why are you here?” I asked softly, exhaustion lacing my voice.

“Have you forgotten?” he replied as he dismounted and offered his arm. “Tonight marks the anniversary of our union.”

“Oh,” I murmured. “Forgive me. My mind has been occupied, and I lost track.”

He stared at me, disbelief flickering across his face. “You once treasured this day above all else. How could it escape your memory?”

It was true. In earlier years, I had prepared elaborate feasts, gathered delicacies, arranged flowers, and lit candles to honor our bond. I sought only to see joy in his eyes. Yet those efforts were later dismissed as unnecessary, even shameful. I still recalled the night I organized a surprise gathering in the banquet hall. He had whispered sharply, “Liora, you draw too much attention. The family is watching. This is… uncomfortable.”

He had guided me away from the elders and guests, and in that moment, something inside me dimmed.

“Come,” he said now, leading me toward his horse. “Let us share a meal to mark the night.”

As we rode, silence stretched between us like a barren field. His gaze drifted toward me, searching for traces of the woman I used to be.

“Are you troubled?” he finally asked.

“No,” I replied.

“No?” His brow tightened. “Then why do you seem distant? I came to honor our bond. Should that not be enough?”

“I harbor no anger,” I said.

He exhaled sharply. “Very well. I swear on the family name, I will sever all ties with Selara. Is that what you want?”

I met his gaze without expression. Did he believe promises spoken in haste could undo months of secrets and half-truths?

“Are you satisfied now?” he asked.

I gave no reply. The remainder of the journey passed in silence until we reached the grand hall prepared for celebration. Darian had arranged candles, floral wreaths, and a private table for our meal. The scene appeared elegant, even romantic, drawing admiring glances from nearby associates.

Before I could reach for the wrapped token he placed before me, a runner arrived with urgent news.

“Fever?” he asked through our secure line. “Does the child require medicine? I cannot leave now—what? The fever is high? Very well. I will come.”

He ended the connection and turned to me, unease shadowing his features. “It’s Selara. Her child is burning with illness. I must go.”

A knot tightened in my throat, yet I forced calm into my voice. “Go. The child comes first.”

He hesitated, studying me as though searching for resistance.

“Wait here. I will return for you,” he said, grabbing his cloak before departing in haste.

I remained alone before the untouched feast. Outside, rain began to fall, drumming against the stone walls like distant timpani. The sound mirrored something inside me—steady, subdued, unwept.

After finishing the meal quietly, I left the hall. A passing carriage offered me a ride back to the estate, though I had no covering against the rain. The droplets chilled my skin as I walked the final stretch under the darkening sky.

When I reached my quarters, I bathed and changed into dry attire. Later, I saw another announcement posted through the estate’s messenger board. It showed Darian inside Selara’s residence, standing beside her and the child. Warm lamplight filled the room, casting a soft glow around them—an intimate brightness that contrasted sharply with the cold rain that had followed me home.

The sight did not break me. It only confirmed what I had already understood: my path lay elsewhere, guided by my own resolve.

Darian did not return to the family quarters until the pale light of dawn filtered through the estate windows. When he finally stepped inside, he launched into explanation as though eager to justify every move.

“Jesse burned with fever the entire night. The heat would not leave him.”

Jesse—the child of Selara. The name felt foreign to me, like a shadow passing through a territory I had never walked.

“Is he well now?” I asked evenly after a brief nod. “Why didn’t you stay longer? It must have been difficult for Selara to manage alone.”

He paused while unfastening his coat, a flash of irritation crossing his features. “Are you mocking me again?” he said, letting out a long, heavy breath. Whether the exhaustion was genuine or a performance, I could not tell. “I did not sleep all night. I am drained.”

“Then rest,” I replied calmly. “I am leaving for the physician’s quarters.”

I turned to gather my satchel.

“Liora…” He reached for my wrist.

“What is it?”

“We will mark our anniversary another time,” he murmured. “I promise.”

A faint smile touched my lips, though no warmth lived behind it. “I am not angered.”

He studied me for a moment before drawing me into his arms. The embrace felt hollow, like a vow offered out of obligation rather than choice. He rested his chin lightly against my hair. “There’s a gathering with the company this coming weekend,” he said. “Join me.”

Darian’s standing in the family was far higher than mine. He was born into this territory, while I remained only because our union bound me here after graduating from the healer’s circle. His associates and acquaintances regarded me with little interest.

Though they seldom addressed me directly, they often sought my aid for minor maladies, aware of my role in the physician’s hall. In earlier times, I had delivered remedies to Darian whenever he fell ill, yet he never introduced me to his crew as his partner.

Regaining my composure, I said, “I may need to remain at the hall for extra duties that day.”

He tightened his jaw. “Suit yourself.”

I did not attend. Still, I never expected him to bring Selara in my place.

While copying ledgers under the lamplight, my phone began to buzz repeatedly. When I checked it, I discovered I had been added to a group chat about the family gathering.

Images from the event flooded the thread. Many featured Selara laughing among Darian’s associates, fitting in as if she belonged.

In one picture, Darian lifted her into his arms, carrying her across the courtyard as part of a playful game. She clung to him, her cheek pressed against his chest. Had she leaned slightly further, their lips might have met.

The group erupted in praise. They tagged both of them, calling them a perfect pair. Given Darian’s prominence in the family enterprise, everyone rushed to flatter him—one comment after another declaring how well-suited they were.

Since I had been included in the thread, ignoring it would have seemed improper. So I typed two simple words: Well matched. I even added a clapping emoji to blend with the rest.

After sending it, I left the chat and silenced my phone. By the time I finished updating the ledgers, darkness had already settled over the estate.

Later, I retrieved my phone again and saw that Darian had attempted to reach me countless times. His messages stacked one atop another, urgent yet unanswered, filling the quiet night with a presence I no longer wished to feel.