Hunger

Sunlight, a liquid gold, spilled over the edge of the silk drapes, chasing away the chill of dawn. Astra blinked, her eyes adjusting to the sudden brilliance. But the warmth didn't reach her heart. The conversation from the night before, a bitter pill of distrust and unspoken hurt, still sat heavy in her stomach.

Stretching, the familiar thrum of life coursing through her veins, thanks to her extraordinary healing abilities, she rose from the plush comfort of her bed. A bath, cool water against burning skin, felt like a baptism.

She dressed with meticulous care, silken layers against her skin. An exile from Inferno, daughter of a duke yet cast out, she clung to the remnants of her aristocratic past. The warrior beneath the lace was formidable, but that strength wasn't meant for display.

Fingers nimble yet firm, she secured the laces of her bodice, delicate chains and the ever-present choker adorning her throat. These intimate garments, usually veiled beneath layers, felt strangely exposed today. Not that it had anything to do with a certain brunette's curious gaze. No, not at all.

But the memory of last night stirred a tide of conflicting emotions – an urge to apologise, a yearning for understanding, a fear of rejection. Perhaps, just maybe, there could be friendship blooming amidst the thorns of their rivalry. Even if it meant enduring Eydis' teasing habits, watching her accept another's hand while her own heart ached.

Perhaps, simply being near her was enough.

With a flick of her wrist, she draped the obsidian cloak over her shoulders, catching the sun like captured embers. A soft rap at the door, a single beat that made her heart skip, announced the object of her hesitant desire.

Eydis stood framed in the doorway, a cascade of brown hair and smoldering amber eyes. Every inch of her, from the mischievous tilt of her head to the curve of her lips, was a challenge, a dare. Astra maintained her carefully crafted mask, but beneath it, a storm raged, unseen by the watching world.

"You look..." Eydis' voice faltered, her gaze momentarily snagged on the lace adorning Astra's neck. "Healthy," she finally managed, her voice husky with an unexpected tenderness.

Astra's lips curled into a faint smile, her head tilting slightly, granting the brunette a more captivating view of the alluring accessory. "All thanks to you, naturally," she remarked, her tone brimming with playful allure.

Eydis cleared her throat, her gaze flicking back to Astra's amethyst eyes. "A remarkable recovery indeed. Now, breakfast? Before Joseph finishes everything," she offered, stepping aside with a flourish.

Astra followed, a question forming on her lips. "Joseph?"

Eydis chuckled, a bittersweet melody, as she described, "The redhead, freckles, big guy, dear Lady Astra—the one who gazes at you like the moon."

Astra snorted, a genuine laugh bubbling up. "That doesn't narrow it down much."

"Humble, aren't we?" Eydis's laughter echoed in the narrow corridor.

As they reached the table, Astra stopped, her voice a whisper barely audible. "About last night, I'm sorry."

Eydis met her gaze, amber reflecting amethyst, both holding secrets and vulnerabilities. "It was my fault too, I tend to…" she trailed off, her usual confidence faltering.

"It's fine," Astra mumbled, her own voice unsteady, not sure if she wanted to hear the rest of Eydis's sentence. Food, she decided, was a better distraction.

As they settled, Astra noticed Natalia Robin blush furiously and scurry away. "What's with her?" she asked Eydis, curiously picking out a selection of pastries.

Eydis watched the exchange with amusement. "Just a little starstruck, I suppose," she said, her voice playful. But in the corner of her eyes, Astra saw a flicker of something else, an unexpected hunger gleaming in Eydis's eyes.

Damn it, Eydis. There was plenty of food on the table, after all.

But the tiny voice in Astra's heart, a voice she was quickly learning to ignore, couldn't help but wonder if perhaps, just perhaps, Eydis wasn't looking at her dish at all.

**

Indigo flung open the door, expecting the usual tranquillity of his study. Instead, chaos reigned. Books lay sprawled, ink splattered across the floor like battlefield carnage. And atop his mahogany table, perched like a raven queen, sat Callista, a half-devoured steak beside a discarded romance novel.

"Callista! What's the deal with this chaos?"

As soon as she noticed him, she tossed the book to the floor, adding it to the growing pile of discarded literature. Their gazes locked, Callista's stormy black hair framing her scowling face. "These are utterly useless."

Indigo sighed, voice tinged with frustration. "Useless for what, my dear? These are first editions, literary treasures!"

"Treasures my ass," she scoffed, her voice cutting through the silence. Pointing at the discarded novel, she continued, "A bullied maid with the brain of a pebble captures the heart of a prince with the charisma of a doorknob? Seriously, Indigo?

"These are just stories, Callista," Indigo replied, his voice softening. "They provide an escape for longing hearts. You were the one who asked me to buy them, remember?"

A flicker of something flashed in her eyes, something he couldn't decipher. "My taste has...changed," she mumbled. "And before you serenade about your precious research, I am not interested."

Indigo's mouth opened and closed in confusion, struggling to comprehend the sudden change in Callista. While she had always indulged in exaggerated romance novels when bored, her desire for something different now left him bewildered.

"Realistic tales don't sell well, Callista. Who wants to read about mundane arranged marriages?" Indigo queried, hoping for some clarification.

Callista grumbled, "There must be a book out there that doesn't revolve around love at first sight or a damsel in distress saved by a handsome and powerful man."

Indigo's eyebrows shot up as realisation dawned upon him. "Callista, are you... perhaps, interested in someone?" He stammered, narrowly dodging a book hurled in his direction.

"Forget I asked," Callista scowled, flicking her midnight hair, a clear indication that Indigo had hit the mark.

Haunted by a past steeped in betrayal, Callista had slammed the door shut on human connection. Indigo, her loyal friend, tirelessly chipped away at the ice, hoping to reveal the warmth she knew still flickered within. But the relationships she'd forged in the past, like fragile sunlight in Silverkeep's eternal twilight, had vanished as quickly as they appeared, leaving behind only the sting of disappointment and a deepening resolve to remain alone.

So, to say he was curious about the man who'd captured her interest, who'd sent her ransacking romantic texts, would be an understatement. He wanted to know everything! Yet, he knew Callista, knew she'd deflect, retreat into her icy fortress at the first hint of scrutiny. So, he adopted a different tactic.

Indigo's voice softened, a tremor beneath the surface. "I've been in love once." He watched Callista's jaw clench, a flicker of something hidden in her violet eyes.

She scoffed, but the sound lacked its usual bite. "You? I thought your brain was too big for love."

Indigo chuckled, his smile revealing the wrinkles of his age. "I'm not devoid of emotions, Callista. There was a time when I wanted to marry a beautiful, flame-hairedInferno girl."

Seeing the mortification on Callista's face, he quickly added, "Not you, dear! Another Inferno girl. Besides, I can't even remember you with red hair."

Callista shrugged, her fingers swirling through her soft raven locks. "Red isn't my colour. I prefer my current look," she remarked, one must look the part of a wicked witch afterall. Though, for some reason, the silver strands had begun to grow on her.

Clearing his throat, Indigo continued, "Anyway, I proposed to her, and she accepted."

Surprised, Callista asked, "Then why weren't you married?"

"...I met you," Indigo explained, yet he swiftly added, "I mean, that chaotic encounter, they labelled me a traitor. I had to sever ties with her, fearing they'd harm her too."

Callista's gaze dropped, and after a long contemplative silence, she inquired, "Was it worth it? Do you regret following me?"

Indigo smiled warmly at Callista, his timeless companion. "Of course not. I would have done it all over again. It was the right thing to do."

"Then do you regret not spending your life with the woman you loved?" Callista asked, her voice filled with careful consideration.

He met her gaze, his own filled with a bittersweet ache. "Sometimes, yes. There are nights when I dream of firelight dancing in her hair, the sound of her laughter echoing across windswept plains. But… knowing she lived a life free from fear, knowing she found happiness elsewhere… that is its own kind of solace."

A long silence followed, heavy with unspoken emotions. As the moon climbed higher, casting shadows across the room, Callista finally spoke.

"And how," she asked, her voice a husky whisper, "did you win her heart, this woman who held a piece of your eternal soul?"

Indigo smiled, a hint of mischief crinkling the corners of his eyes. "I followed her like a shadow, of course," he teased. "Research," he winked, "has shown that proximity is one of the keys to successful courtship."

A genuine laugh escaped Callista's lips, the sound washing over Indigo like a warm summer breeze. As she stood to leave, her eyes held a new light, a question unspoken but hanging in the air.

"Perhaps," she mused, her voice barely a breath, "I'll tell you a story of my own one day."

A hint of a smile graced Callista's lips as she departed. Indigo couldn't help but visualise the man reflected in her crystal-like eyes. Knowing Callista, he imagined him to be an righteous hero with unwavering beliefs, someone as noble as Lord Damian.

Little did he know, he couldn't have been more wrong.