Chapter 1
!!!You should have read up to chapter 22 of BRAVER before this part to avoid spoiler and to have better understanding!!!
<------ Vivian -----<<<
After breakfast, I am... confused.
Not upset. Not even overwhelmed. Just-
Confused.
Because objectively speaking, everything isperfect.
I have a partner for the Winter Ball.
Not just any partner. Adangerously handsome, smooth-talking, very confident partner who sat down like he owned the entire dining hall and then choseme.
Me.
Okay, well not at first. And yet-
That alone should be enough to carry me through the entire day smiling like an absolute idiot.
And I am happy. Very happy. Possibly glowing. If I’m lucky- No. Not lucky. Whenthings go well-
He might even remain my partner beyond the ball. For future events. Future dances. Possibly-
I stop that thought before it builds a castle.
One step at a time, Vivian.
Grace. Dignity. Strategy.
...Romance.
But. There’s a problem.
Alora.
I frown slightly as I walk down the corridor, replaying breakfast in my head like it’s some kind of puzzle Ishouldbe able to solve.
She barely spoke. She didn’t look at me. And when she did-
Her face-
The way it turned red. The way she choked on her drink. The way she kept answering me like I had personally offended her entire bloodline-
I slow slightly.
Wait.
My eyes widen just a fraction.
Is she-
...no.
Is she?
I stop walking completely.
Oh.
Oh.
Sheis.
She has to be.
She’sjealous!
Of course.
That explains everything.
The short answers. The irritation. The dramatic “I’ll go alone” declaration like some tragic heroine in a very poorly written play.
I nod to myself, the pieces clicking neatly into place. It makes perfect sense. No one asked her. And she pretends she doesn’t care. But she does.
Oh, she definitely does.
My expression softens immediately.
Oh, Alora...
You should have just said so.
She must be feeling left out. But no one can be blamed for asking her out. She is a kind of ‘I would kill men but act like one’ kind of girl. Who would even dare to ask her.
Someone with a death wish, obviously.
I sigh quietly, already feeling a wave of determination settle in. I am a good friend. An excellent friend. Averyobservant friend. (Occasionally.) And I am not about to let her spend the entire ball pretending she enjoys solitude while secretly suffering.
That is unacceptable. Absolutely unacceptable.
I turn the corner-
-and stop.
Alora is in the training yard.
Of course she is.
Where else would she be?
She stands in front of a training dummy, sword in hand, hair pulled back, shoulders tight.
The moment I step closer-
Thwack.
Her blade slams into the dummy with enough force to make the wood shudder.
Oh.
That’s not... casual practice. That’s emotional damage.
She strikes again.
And again.
Precise. Controlled.
But far too aggressive for simple training. I hesitate for half a second.
Then walk forward anyway.
“Alora?”
She doesn’t turn.
Thwack.
“Alora,” I try again, gentler.
Nothing. Not even a glance.
Rude.
Veryrude.
I step closer, folding my arms. “You know ignoring me doesn’t actually make me disappear.”
“I’m aware,” she says flatly.
Ah.
She speaks.
Progress.
“I’m training,” she adds.
“Yes,” I say, watching the poor dummy suffer another violent hit, “I can see that. It’s very inspiring. I almost feel bad for it.”
Silence.
Then-
Thwack.
I narrow my eyes slightly.
Alright. We are doing this the difficult way.
“Are you angry with me?” I ask directly.
“No.”
Too fast.
Suspicious.
“Alora.”
“I said no.”
She strikes again.
Harder.
That is definitely a yes.
I step closer, moving slightly into her line of sight. She shifts immediately- turning just enough to avoid facing me directly.
Oh, this is getting ridiculous.
“Is this about the ball?” I press.
“No.”
“Is this about Zayan?”
“No.”
“...Is this about me?”
Her grip tightens on the sword.
There it is.
I soften my voice.
“You’re upset because no one asked you, aren’t you?”
The words leave my mouth gently. Like I am offering her a safe place to admit it.
She goes completely still for one long second. And then-
She lowers the sword slowly.
Turns.
And looks at me.
Oh.
That is not the face of someone who is sad. That is the face of someone who is-
furious.
I blink. “...Alora?”
“What exactly,” she says, very quietly, “gave you that idea?”
Her tone is calm. Too calm. The dangerous kind.
I straighten slightly, but I don’t back down.
“Well- this morning- you were quiet, and then you said you’d go alone, and-”
“And your conclusion,” she cuts in, stepping closer, “was that I’m jealous?”
When she says it like that, it sounds slightly less correct.
But still..... “Yes?” I offer.
Something flashes across her face.
Not hurt. Not embarrassment either. But frustration. Sharp and immediate.
“You really don’t see it,” she mutters.
“See what?”
She lets out a breath, dragging a hand through her hair. “This is exactly what I mean.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, completely lost now.
She looks at me again. And this time, in her soil brown gaze, there’s something else there. Something protective. Something annoyed. Something... worried?
“You trust too easily,” she says.
I blink. “That’s not-”
“You let people in too fast,“she continues, voice tightening slightly. “You don’t question anything. Someone sits down, smiles at you, asks to a ball and suddenly-what? He’s perfect?”
My brows draw together. “He was polite-”
“He was calculated.” The word lands hard.
I stare at her.
“He was watching us,” she adds. “The entire time.”
That... is not entirely untrue. But still-
“That doesn’t mean he’s dangerous,” I argue.
“It means you don’t know if he is.”
Silence stretches between us. Tense now. Uneven.
“I can handle myself,” I say, quieter.
“I know you can,” she snaps. Then softer, “That’s not the point.”
Something twists in my chest. Because this doesn’t sound like jealousy anymore. This sounds like-
Fear.
Forme.
“I’m not stupid, Alora,” I say, more firmly now.
“I didn’t say you were.”
“You’re acting like it.”
Her jaw tightens. “And you’re acting like nothing can go wrong.”
Because I don’t want it to. Because for once.... Something feelsgood.
I take a step closer. “Why does this bother you so much?“” I ask, softer now. Trying to understand.
She hesitates. Just for a second.
“Because you don’t see people the way they are,” she says.
That stings more than I expect.
“I see the good in them,” I reply.
“And that’s exactly what they count on.” The words hit sharper than her sword ever could.
Silence falls again. Heavy and uncomfortable. She turns away suddenly, picking up her sword again.
“I’m done with this conversation.”
Oh no.
No, we are not.
I reach out and grab her wrist before she can walk off.
“Alora.”
She freezes. Slowly looks back at me. “Let go.”
“No.”
Her eyes narrow slightly. Mine don’t move.
“Talk to me.”
“I just did.”
“Not properly.”
A beat.
Her expression hardens. “I’m not doing this right now.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Vivian-”
“No,” I cut in, tightening my grip just slightly. “You don’t get to shut me out and pretend everything’s fine when it’s clearly not.”
For a moment-
Neither of us moves.
The air between us tight and fragile like glass stretched too thin.
“I’m trying to protect you,” she says finally.
That breaks something small inside my chest. Because I wasn’t expecting that at all. I soften slightly.
“You don’t have to fight me to do that,” I say gently.
Her jaw tightens again. But she doesn’t pull away this time. Not yet.
