The Letter

I carried Hannah's dinner with both hands. Not because it was heavy, but because my fingers still remembered her. The tray trembled slightly as I walked. Every step sent a dull pulse through my hand, through the nail that had not yet healed, through the memory of pressure, of control. I tried to steady it. Tried to slow my breathing. Tried to arrive before she noticed.

I was late. I knew it before I reached the door. The guards did not stop me. They never did. I stepped inside.

She was already turned. Waiting.

The tray slipped slightly in my grip as I bowed my head.

"I.." I didn't finish.

Her hand moved. Fast. Precise. She didn't strike my face. She took my hand. The injured one. And pressed. Not crushing. Not yet. Just enough.

Pain flared instantly, sharp and bright, climbing up my arm like fire. I bit down on the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood.

"Late."

Her voice was calm. Worse than anger. My knees almost gave.

"I'm sorry.."

Her fingers tightened. Not enough to break. Enough to remind. A sound escaped me before I could stop it. Soft. Humiliating. She watched me. Measured the reaction. Then released. I staggered slightly, catching the tray before it fell.

"Set it down."

I did. Carefully. My hand shook violently now. I kept my head lowered. Didn't look at her. Didn't dare. She didn't speak again. Didn't acknowledge me. Didn't dismiss me.

I stood there anyway. Like something waiting to be told what it was allowed to be. Then I turned. And left.

The corridor felt colder on the way back. Quieter. Every sound sharper. Every step heavier. My hand throbbed with every heartbeat. But that wasn't what followed me. It was her silence. That always lingered longer than pain.

By the time I reached my room, I was hollow. Not exhausted. Empty. I closed the door. Locked it. Leaned against it. And let out a breath that shook on the way out.

My bag lay in the corner. Where I had left it. Where I had forgotten it. Where I had forgotten… myself. I stared at it for a long time. Then moved.

Slowly. Kneeling. Opening it. Clothes. Stiff with dried blood. A broken clasp. Fragments of a life that didn't exist anymore. My hand moved through it without thinking. Without care.

Until..paper, beside a satchel of gems & jewelry my uncle gave me to sell, if I ran short of coins. My fingers hovered over the letter. Then slowly lifted it out. Crumpled. Folded deep. Forgotten. My breath caught. Because I saw it before I opened it.

The name. Written across the front. "To High-Captain Hannariel."

My chest tightened. My hands began to shake again, worse than before. This wasn't pain. This was something else. I shouldn't read this. I knew that.

Knew it the same way I knew disobedience had consequences. The same way I knew Syrel's hands could be gentle… and still destroy me.

I opened it anyway.

The paper crackled softly, too loud in the silence. My eyes moved over the words slowly. Not reading. Recognizing. My mother's hand. Her voice. Her tone.

Then..a name. Serenus Icetear. Everything stopped. The room. The air. My breath. Serenus. Icetear. I read it again. Slower. As if that would change it. It didn't. My mother's father…My grandfather….An Icetear?

Missing. Gone. Dead. Icetear.

My vision blurred. My grip tightened on the paper. My entire body went cold. Hannariel. The letter slipped slightly in my hand. I caught it. Barely.

"No…"

It came out small. Broken. My mind tried to reject it. Push it away. Make it something else. It couldn't. Bloodline. Family. Connection. I wasn't just a human.

Not here. Not to them. Elu-dues. The word rose in my mind like something poisonous. I stood up too quickly. The room tilted. My breath came faster. Shallow. Wrong. I needed to give this to her. Now. Before..before what? Before it got worse? It was already worse.

I moved toward the door, the letter clutched in my hand, my heart pounding so loudly I could hear it.

The handle turned. I froze. The door opened. Shaedra stepped inside. I didn't think. I reacted. The letter disappeared into the bag. Buried. Hidden. Gone.

Too late. Too fast.

Her eyes flicked briefly toward the movement. Then back to me. Slowly. Smiling.

"Well…"

Her voice was soft. Amused.

"Look at you."

I said nothing. I couldn't. My chest still tight from the letter. My mind still reeling. She closed the door behind her. Locked it. The sound was deliberate. Measured.

Her gaze stayed on me as she moved. Unhurried. Certain. Like she already knew how this would end.

"You look… shaken."

She stepped closer. Each step quiet. Controlled.

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

The lie came out too fast. Too thin. Her smile deepened.

"Good."

My stomach dropped.

She reached for me. Not roughly. Not yet. Her fingers brushed my shoulder. Light. Testing.

"I prefer you like this."

Her hand slid away. She turned casually, as if the room belonged to her. As if I did.

She began unfastening her armor. Slowly. Piece by piece. Not for display. Not for me. For comfort. Leather loosened. Straps fell. Steel set aside with soft, controlled movements. Until only silk remained. Dark. Clinging. Effortless.

She exhaled softly, settling into it. Then she looked back at me.

"Come here."

I didn't move. Not immediately. Her head tilted slightly. A warning.

"Don't make me repeat myself."

I stepped forward. Slowly. The letter still burning in the back of my mind. The name still echoing. Hannariel. Icetear.

She watched me approach carefully, like she was reading something deeper than my face.

"Better."

Her hand lifted. Rested lightly against my jaw. Not hurting. Not yet. But I understood. The letter would wait. It had to. Because in this place, truth didn't matter.

Only who stood in front of you. Only what they wanted. Only what they would take. And as her fingers tightened, just slightly..I let the truth sink back down. Buried. Hidden. Forgotten. For now.