Chapter Seven
1095 Words
Vespera was the first to move fully out of stance.
Her shoulders loosened and relaxed, but not completely. The chain still rested in her hand, coiled in a way that suggested readiness more than relaxation. Her expression had settled back into something controlled—but it didn’t quite match the ease she usually wore.
A faint tension rested in her jaw.
Like she was annoyed at something she couldn’t name.
Or refused to.
She watched Cassiel lower his sword fully.
He exhaled once.
Steady.
Measured.
But his gaze didn’t leave her.
That was the problem.
He was still looking at her like the fight hadn’t fully ended yet.
Like something in it had not been resolved.
Just paused.
The instructor said something to the class—something about reset positions, continuation of drills—but the words blurred into background noise.
No one really moved yet.
The center of the room still felt occupied.
By tension.
By aftermath.
And Vespera felt it more than she would ever give it credit for.
Cassiel finally broke eye contact first.
Not sharply.
Not in avoidance.
Just a deliberate shift, like he was putting the duel back into its proper place in his mind.
But it didn’t fully work.
Something lingered. Something heavy.
Vespera noticed it too.
He saw her grip tighten on the chain slightly, then forced it looser again, as if correcting herself.
Her eyes flicked away briefly, looking at nothing in particular.
Then they returned, the grey dark and cold.
The mask was back on.
“You hesitated at the end,” Cassiel said after a moment.
He wasn’t accusing her.
He wasn’t even really challenging her, though she could have taken it like he was.
It was an observation he suddenly had the impulse to point out.
Vespera’s reply came too quickly.
“I didn’t.”
She paused, as if stopping herself.
Then, quieter, in a soft voice, almost defensive without meaning to be:
“It was training.”
But it didn’t sound like training anymore.
Not to either of them. And he knew she felt it too.
Cassiel didn’t push it.
That was worse somehow.
He simply nodded once, as if accepting something that wasn’t fully agreed upon.
“Then it was a good one.”
She didn't answer, just looked at him.
A silence settled between them.
But it felt different now.
Less filled with motion.
More filled with awareness.
Around them, the class finally resumed in fragments.
Steel clinked again in distant corners.
Commands returned.
Movement restarted like a system reluctantly rebooting.
But the center space—where they had stood—felt unchanged for a few seconds longer than it should have.
As if the room itself needed time to remember how to ignore it.
Vespera turned away first.
She moved in a controlled pivot, chain shifting softly with her movement, posture returning to something familiar on the surface.
But not entirely.
Not fully reset.
Cassiel watched her for a moment longer than necessary.
'She's battling it too,' he thought. He sighed. This was the most thrilling fuel he had ever had, and he knew his initial plan to stay away from her was non-existant.
It ceased to exist the moment she had stepped back into the court. It became a figment of his imagination the moment they began duelling.
And as much as it should have bothered him, he wasn't. In fact, he felt more drawn to her than ever.
He sheathed his sword.
Like closing something that technically should have been over already.
None said a word again. Vespera had turned her back on him.
Cassiel watched the straight figure. He could see the coldness emanating from her. He knew she didn't want to speak to him.
Not because there was nothing to say.
But because anything said now would have to account for what had just happened.
And that wasn't like Vespera. Two days with her, and he felt like he had known for eternity.
Besides, neither of them had decided what that was yet.
As they separated back into the flow of the class, one truth remained unspoken between them:
They had not simply sparred.
They had recognized each other.
And that recognition did not disappear when the weapons were lowered.
"I heard about your duel with Seraph Cassiel," Lyra burst out, squealing. "How was it?"
"Nothing special," Vespera brushed her off. "Oh, come one, Vee," Lyra begged.
"Don't call me that."
"What are you even focused on?"
Vespera shut the History textbook she had been hunched over much harder than she had intended. Lyra flinched, but didn't back away.
"Why aren't you afraid of me?"
"I was, but now I see no reason to be afraid of you," Lyra replied cheerfully. "I wish you were right now," Vespera mumbled, standing from her desk.
"Why should I be afraid? Despite the cold exterior, you're not a bad person."
"You don't know that."
"You don't give me a reason to believe you are."
"Does everything have to have a reason?" Vespera asked, a tad annoyed, but also amused.
Lyra nodded. "Everything has a reason."
Vespera sat on her bed, looking at Lyra.
Everything has a reason.
But why did it seem there was no reason to explain why she didn't dislike Cassiel the way she wished she would?
What was the reason behind her looking forward to seeing him again?
What was the reason behind the energy they had shared during the duel?
So many questions.
Not a single answer.
The duel was still fresh in her head, though it had taken place hours ago. She had turned away from Cassiel, stopping any attempt of conversation.
Not that she didn't really want to talk to him. She just didn't have the words.
What would she say?
How could she explain what had happened?
Never in her existence had she felt so alive. So... happy...
There it is again. The fleeting feeling of happiness. It bloomed in her chest, warming her.
'So this is happiness,' she mused to herself.
"Vespera, you're smiling," Lyra pointed out, beaming. Vespera realised she was. The smile dropped.
Lyra made a little happy dance.
"What's so exciting?" Vespera asked, trying to sound unamused. She wasn't even convinced herself.
Lyra turned back to her, a bright smile on her face. "What's so exciting?" she echoed.
"I saw the ice queen smile, and it was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
Lyra's joy was infectious, and Vespera couldn't help but smile back.
'I'm... beautiful.'
She didn't know happiness, but that?
That made her very happy.
- Writer
