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I open my mouth to toss out something flippant. But the truth slips free instead. “Because I wanted to see you smile like this.”

Aria’s breath catches, and her eyes soften in that way that always makes my chest ache. Like I’ve been struck without warning—right in the ribs.

The urge to kiss her hits me hard. Sudden. Sharp.

I wonder what it would be like—if she’d tense or melt beneath me. If her lips would be cool like her skin, or if she’d burn just as fiercely as she looks when she lets her guard down. I imagine the way her hand might curl in my shirt, the way she might exhale my name like a secret she didn’t mean to spill.

My heart hammers once, hard.

Then—

Crack.

The sharp shatter of glass below jerks us both back. We freeze, listening. A voice rises in slurred protest from the street, followed by the clatter of a barrel tipping over.

Tavern chaos. Nothing unusual.

But the moment is gone, fractured like the bottle on the cobblestones.

I release her hand and step toward the balcony rail, squinting into the shadows. The town square below is half-shrouded in mist, lanterns casting flickering halos against the cobblestones. The tavern’s stable boy scurries across the street to right the barrel while two men stagger away from the disturbance.

Nothing more. Still, the unease remains, curling low in my gut.

“Just some drunks,” I mutter, though I don’t entirely believe it. “We should get inside.”

Aria hesitates before following me back into the room. I secure the balcony’s wooden latch and double-check the lock on the main door.

When I turn back, she’s sitting on the bed, fiddling with a loose thread on the blanket. The candle on the nightstand casts flickering shadows across her face, highlighting the faint bruise of exhaustion beneath her eyes.

“Take the bed,” I say.

Aria looks up. “We can share.”

I almost choke. “We’re not sharing.”

“Why not?”

Because if we do, I won’t sleep. Because I’ll spend every second pretending not to notice the way her hair spills across the pillow or the warmth of her beside me. Because it’s already hard enough to remember where the lines are.

“You need real rest,” I say instead, leaning my weight against the doorframe. “I’ll keep watch.”

Aria frowns, crossing her arms. “You always keep watch.”

“And you always argue with me about it.” I smirk, trying to keep the mood light. “Some traditions shouldn’t be broken. I’ll take the chair.”

Aria sighs but doesn’t press further. She stands to pull back the blanket, and her eyes flick toward the window one last time. “You think they’re close?” she asks softly.

The enforcers. Her clan. The ones that won’t stop until they drag her back.

“They’ll find us if we stay here too long,” I admit. “But we’ve got a day, maybe two. Long enough to get some supplies and figure out where we go next.”

Aria nods, though her jaw tightens. “I wish we didn’t have to run.”

“Me too,” I say. “But we’ll figure it out.”

She gives me a small, grateful nod and slips beneath the blankets. I settle into the chair by the door, sword within reach.

It’s quiet, save for the faint hum of the town outside.