Long-Time Friendship

"I am not allowed to confirm unsolicited rumours with you. However, I will ensure that you are the first to know after the Duke when a letter of invitation arrives from the castle."

Myra opens her mouth to speak but before she manages the words, however she's cut off immediately by a knock on the door and Margaret inviting herself in.

"Marquess Ares has arrived earlier than expected. May I let him in?" Frederick looks to Myra for permission before giving her word of approval. She looks pitifully at her paper and the remnants of her tarnished plans to spend the rest of her evening till the meeting.

Noticing her deliberation, Frederick noticeably frowns, exchanging a particular look with Margaret.

"My lady, I'm afraid you'll have to make a decision before—" Frederick rolls out words in a hurried voice, only to have his words cut off by a deep-throated, male voice outside.

Myra stands from her chair and leans forward, only catching the abdomen of another man who's now standing beside Margaret. The old maid pitifully holds out her hands to him, keeping him away until Myra approves of his presence.

Frederick goes to Margaret's side, trying to defend her from the Marquess' fiery glare. Myra is now standing completely, furrowing her eyebrows at the rude man who has her servants panicking with fear.

"Let him in," she says sternly, hoping to send a message to the Marquess that his manners aren't appreciative. It's only when he bursts through the ajar door that Myra's eyes widen in surprise and time misses a second, the minute hands on all the clocks pausing for the few moments that it takes for Ares to reach her.

The feeling is unexplainable, the immense affectionate the bubbles from her absolute core. He pauses in front of her, pressing a hand against his chest while he attempts to catch his breath. For someone who incited such fear, he looks as if he's on the verge of tears and in an instant, Myra doesn't blame her anger for dissipating into nothing at the sight of him.

"I was so worried for you. I—" Ares lunges towards her, wrapping his strong arms tightly around Myra as if letting go means to lose her forever.

"I was so scared that I wouldn't be allowed to see you again or that I would be too late. If only I were your servant, I would've been allowed to visit you just once during your days of sickness."

Myra finds herself melting at his words but doesn't find it in herself to move. She looks up, chin against his shoulder and arms fallen limp to the sides of her waist.

"A-Ares, you're holding me too hard," Myra stutters, finding it slightly difficult to breathe in what might as well be called a death grip.

Ares consciously loosens his grip around Myra and repositions himself such that he can look over his shoulder. Margaret lets out a startled yip and pulls Frederick out of the door, kicking it close with her foot to save her life.

Ares sighs and Myra watches, slowly, as that intimidating coldness of his eyes washes away into gentleness at the sight of her. "Uh, sorry though," Myra pulls away from him, organising her things properly so she can return to them later.

Ares clutches onto her shoulders, searching for anything which may be wrong. Myra blushes faintly at the sight of him and somehow, she recognises him with a familiarity that can build only over a lifetime.

"My memories have been slightly iffy recently. I don't quite remember anyone, only the feelings I bear towards them. Apologies if I'm no longer the person you've known all these years," she smiles wistfully, slowly unhooking his hands from her shoulders.

Ares falls into visible shock, his face freezing into an unmoving position.

Myra tries to read his expression but fails to until he stutters, "You… You don't know who I am?" Sadness flitters over his eyes and he curls into a position akin to a sad puppy in the rain. His blonde hair dusts his nose, covering his eyes almost completely.

Myra stands awkwardly, wondering how to be of comfort, thinking any advance she might make won't help.

"I swear I'll kill anyone who tried to hurt you," he whuffles, rubbing his reddened nose.

"Now, something of that extent won't be necessary," Myra clutches onto his hand out of habit. She rubs her thumb over his hand, smiling reassuringly to a man who may as well be a stranger to her, "I'll do my best to recall who you are to me. I can ask Frederick to lead us to the sparring grounds, it's almost sunset."

Mizuki looks out of the window to make sure she's right, bending a little to steal a glimpse of the orange-pink hues of the saturated sky. The surrounding walls of the mansion in view have been painted in pretty colours of dusk and it practically reeks with ethereality.

Noticing her hand which has been clasped in his for an awkward while now, she pulls away, mumbling a soft and bashful apology under her breath. Ares' cheeks flare out of embarrassment, a sight you wouldn't expect from a hard-headed Marquess like him.

Myra grabs her skirt, quickly proceeding out of the door to hide her mortification.

"I'll head out to change in my room. It won't take more than five minutes, please make yourself comfortable here or in my office, if you prefer!" she blurts.

Ares grabs her wrist, holding her back.

"We've known each other since we were children. When have you ever been so embarrassed around me, my lady?" he beckons to her and Lord, something about his sultry voice makes her heart quiver beneath the confines of her ribcage.

Myra turns on her heel, looking at him with a hardened gaze and she can tell, perhaps from experience, that he isn't being innocent.

"What did you plan to do then?" she asks, quickly retracting her wrist, else she's sure she'll no longer be able to control her heart's rapid palpitations.

Ares smiles, "May I come closer?" he questions and Myra allows it. He nears her, moving his fringe out of the way and Myra almost misunderstands, taking a step back against the door.

Contrary to her subconscious expectations, Ares swerves from her completely and instead bends down to her ear. Whispering quietly, he admits, "I'd like to sneak you out to the town. You've always liked going there when your father was too busy to check up on you."

Myra pushes him away, grappling onto his shirt excitedly.

"Wait, you really mean it?!" her eyes twinkle with unsurmountable joy. Ares grins, nodding once to confirm her suspicions. This time, she doesn't hesitate to throw herself onto him, caressing him tightly out of gratification.

Ares, taken aback by this reaction, stands frozen, looking down at his lady, whom he hasn't seen this excited in months. Taking the chance, he ruffles her hair affectionately which surprisingly, she doesn't object to.

"You're different," he utters.