Mabel closed the door softly behind her.

Due to the stillness of the room, the click sounded louder than it should have. It sealed them away from the music, the laughter, and the illusion of celebration that still filled the castle.

Inside the room, everything felt still.

Mabel guided Aire toward the bed without a word. Her hand was gentle around Aire’s arm, steadying her. She already understood that something inside Aire had begun to fracture.

Aire let herself be led. She didn’t resist, nor speak.

She sat when Mabel pressed lightly on her shoulders. The mattress dipped beneath her weight. Her gown pooled around her.

Mabel crouched slightly in front of her, with her hands resting loosely on her lap as she studied Aire’s face.

Aire didn’t meet her eyes.

Her gaze dropped to her own hands. They were slightly trembling. The trembles were barely noticeable unless you were looking for it.

Mabel noticed. Her gaze remained ever sharp.

Aire swallowed, her throat tight, and dry. She parted her lips, and struggled to speak. "King Elijah promised..." Her voice came out soft, almost distant. "He promised the curse might be lifted."

Her fingers curled slowly into her palm. "And now..." she exhaled, a shaky, and uneven breath. "He didn’t even make any effort."

Mabel’s expression didn’t change much, but something in her eyes sharpened. She listened carefully, measured, and collected informations.

"Sometimes," Mabel said gently, "kings promise what they cannot control."

Aire let out a quiet, humorless sound. "No," she shook her head slightly. "He knew."

That certainty in her voice made Mabel pause.

Aire lifted her gaze then, finally meeting hers. "He knew before he told me," she said quietly. "I saw it... just now. There was hesitation in his eyes that showed his unhonourable act. The way he said it." Her lips parted slightly as the realization was still settling into her bones. "He let me hope anyway. When he could have simply never mentioned it."

Silence stretched between them.

Mabel didn’t interrupt, or try to break it. She let Aire speak at her own pace. Aire looked like she needed to.

Aire inhaled slowly, then looked away again. Her gaze drifted to the far corner of the room, unfocused.

"I thought..." she started, then stopped.

Her brows pulled together faintly.

"I thought if the seer came... if the Moon Goddess just—" she exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "I don’t even know what I expected."

Her voice softened further. "I just wanted it to stop."

Mabel tilted her head slightly. "Stop what?"

Aire’s fingers tightened again. For a moment, it looked like she wouldn’t answer. Then, she unexpectedly parted her lips.

"The stares, judgement, silver hair, and most especially, the dreams," she whispered but the last part came out lower than the others.

Mabel stilled. She leaned closer.

Aire’s voice dropped, quieter now. She wasn’t sure she should be saying any of this, but Mabel was the one person she trusted in this castle.

"They’re not dreams," she added after a second. "I don’t think they are."

Mabel didn’t move. "Tell me," she said softly without blinking.

Aire hesitated. "I see things," she murmured. "Places I’ve never been. Battles... blood..." Her throat tightened. "Wars."

Her breathing changed slightly.

"It feels real. Too real." Her fingers pressed into her gown. "I can feel it. The heat. The... fear. Everything."

Her eyes flickered. "And sometimes... I know what’s about to happen before it does. Not lately, but it happened a lot when I was home with my uncle. Saved me from a lot of beatings."

Mabel’s pulse ticked. This was so interesting to her.

Aire swallowed again. Her voice softened, almost breaking. "I just wanted it all to stop. I’m sure this is all because of the curse."

That made Mabel’s fingers curl slightly.

Her eyes lifted again, meeting Mabel’s. "Say something. Anything, even if it’s a judgement."

Mabel held her gaze, saying nothing, yet her mind was already moving, and already connecting threads.

Her lips parted slightly, but she still didn’t speak.

Aire exhaled shakily, dragging her hands over her face. "I wasn’t going to tell anyone," she admitted quietly. "I don’t even understand it myself."

She laughed softly, bitterly.

"A wolfless girl having visions of war." She shook her head. "It sounds ridiculous and like I’m a threat."

"No," Mabel said softly.

Aire stilled.

"It doesn’t."

That made Aire look at her again, and Mabel’s gaze was steady now.

"Tell me everything you remember," she said gently, almost coaxing.

The words sat at the edge of Aire’s tongue. The memories pressed forward, clearer now. She parted her lips to speak when a sudden knock interrupted them.

The knock was sharp, and both of them straightened up immediately.

Mabel straightened slightly, her expression shifting instantly back into composure.

Aire’s heart jumped in her chest.

The door opened before either of them could respond.

Alaric stepped in.

His presence filled the room immediately, heavy, commanding, and impossible to ignore anywhere. The air shifted with him, thickening in a way that made Aire’s breath hitch.

His eyes were already on her from the moment he stepped in, and remained locked on her.

Aire swallowed.

The intensity of his gaze hit her like something physical.

He closed the door behind him slowly, his eyes never leaving her as he took his steps forward.

Mabel remained where she was, but for the first time, she felt invisible. Like she was simply not there.

Alaric stopped in front of Aire.

"Are you alright, silver dove?" he asked quietly.

His voice was low, and controlled, but there was something beneath it. Something that didn’t quite settle.

Aire forced herself to breathe. The name caught her off guard. Also, he does look exceptionally dashing today.

"I’m fine," she said. Her reply came out too quickly.

Alaric’s gaze didn’t waver.

He studied her face. He didn’t believe her. He searched her looking for something deeper than the words she gave him.

"You should be downstairs," he said after a moment. "It’s your ball."

Aire’s fingers tightened against the fabric of her gown.

"No." She said softly.

Alaric stilled. Slowly, he deliberately lowered himself in front of her. He had one knee touching the ground and positioned between her legs.

Aire’s breath caught.

Mabel’s eyes flickered.

Alaric reached up, his hand moving carefully toward Aire’s face. His movement was gentle and reserved.

His fingers hovered for a second before brushing lightly against her cheek.

"I’ll leave you now," he said quietly. "But..." His other hand moved to his pocket. "...I have something for you."

Aire swallowed, her gaze dropping instinctively to his hand as he pulled something out.

He pulled out a necklace with soft white pearls that were luminous. They caught the light in a way that made them look almost... unreal.

The pearls were beautiful and at the same time, sad.

Aire’s breath hitched at the sight of them.

Alaric held it out to her. "My gift to you," he said, his eyes lifting back to her face. "On this day."

Aire hesitated for only a second before reaching for it. For the longest time, she hasn’t received anything from anyone.

Her fingers brushed his as she took the necklace.

The pearls were cool against her skin. Also really smooth and perfect.

She stared at them in quiet awe.

"They’re..." her voice softened. "Beautiful." Her gaze lifted slowly. "Where did you get them?"

Alaric didn’t look away. He held her gaze. "They belonged to my late mother," he said.

Aire stilled.

"And now..." his voice lowered slightly, something heavier settling into it, "...they’re yours."

The moment the words left his lips, Aire’s breath stopped.

The room... tilted.

A sharp ringing filled her ears.

Her fingers tightened around the pearls as her vision blurred slightly, as the edges of the room faded.

The world around her dulled. It got muted and silent.

Her gaze locked on the necklace, but she wasn’t really seeing it anymore. Not fully. Something else pressed in, another world entirely.

Her body went still. Her breathing slowed, then stuttered.

Her mind slipped away, and Aire spaced out.