Chapter 14 – One Step Closer, One Step Back
“I... I don't know where to start,” Elarion said with a nervous laugh, his voice low. “As you can probably tell, the closest thing I have to family now are Nymeris and Ayda.”
Iris tilted her head, her expression open. “How did you end up living with Nymeris?”
His fingers curled around the silk napkin beneath the table, gripping it just enough to steady the nerves that had begun to rise. “She took me in when I was nineteen,” he said after a pause. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
There was a moment of quiet between them. The music played softly in the background, and the candle between them danced with a faint sway of air. Then, with a breath that felt heavier than the others, Elarion spoke again.
“I used to have siblings. An older brother and sister.” His gaze dropped to the table. “They died when I was nineteen. And when they died... my family just fell apart.”
He swallowed, his voice a little quieter now.
“Nymeris found me not long after. She said she couldn’t bear seeing a boy like me sleeping on the streets, so she let me stay. And she never asked me to leave.”
Across the table, Iris’s expression shifted. There was no pity in her eyes, only quiet sadness. Her brows drew in slightly, and she placed her hand gently on the edge of the table. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to bring up something so painful.”
Elarion looked up at her and gave a weak smile. “It’s alright. It’s just... been a while since I talked about them.”
“Do you miss them?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
He nodded, his smile faltering.
“Every single day.”
He let out a breath and leaned back slightly in his seat. “My brother’s name was Corvellen. He was twenty-five. People used to say I looked just like him. He was... everything I wasn’t. Confident. Outgoing. He could walk into a room and everyone would want to talk to him. He had this way of making you feel like you mattered, even if you barely knew him.”
A faint smile returned to his lips, touched with memory. “He taught me how to fight. Trained with me whenever he had time, even if I was annoying about it. I thought he was the coolest person on the planet. Still do, honestly.”
His eyes drifted toward the candle again. “My sister was Serelune. She was twenty-three. And between the two of them, I was closest to her. She always knew when I needed someone, even before I said a word. She taught me how to draw, listened to me when things got too loud inside my head. She was calm. Gentle. The kind of person who made you feel like everything might be okay.” He looked down at his hands.
“They both shone so bright, it was hard not to feel like I was falling short. Like I had to catch up just to be worthy of being their little brother. But I never resented them for it. I admired them too much for that.”
The room seemed to quiet even more around them, the space between them filling with the weight of what was said and what was still unsaid.
“Sometimes I wish I could still talk to them,” he said quietly. “Ask for advice. Tell them about the kind of person I’m trying to be. But... I know they’re gone. And I know I have to move on.”
His voice held steady, but only just.
And for a moment, neither of them said anything at all.
There were questions sitting quietly on the tip of Iris’s tongue. She wanted to ask how they died. She wanted to know what happened that tore a family apart so completely. But she also knew what it looked like when someone was trying their best to stay afloat. The way his hand hadn’t left the napkin. The pause before each sentence. The breath he took, heavier than the others, right before he smiled again.
So, she didn’t ask.
Instead, she offered a small smile, trying to lighten the air between them again. Elarion seemed to notice. He drew a breath and exhaled slowly, then looked back up at her. “Sorry,” he said, a faint curve of apology in his voice. “That wasn’t exactly... dinner date conversation. I didn’t mean to trauma-dump on you.”
She shook her head gently, her voice soft. “Don’t be.”
Still, he gave her that boyish smile again. “Well, I’d like to know more about you too. If there’s anything you’re comfortable sharing.”
Iris tilted her head, surprised but touched by the shift in attention. “Alright,” she said. “Let’s see. I like wine, reading, exploring new places... trying new things. I like spending time with friends, meeting new people. I like fashion and making accessories.”
That made him lift his brows slightly, visibly interested. “Making accessories?”
She gave a playful nod. “Sometimes I make them. Not all of them, but I like to put things together. Mix styles. Try new looks.”
His eyes lit up, and he leaned forward slightly.
“That’s really impressive.”
His tone wasn’t performative or overly enthusiastic. It was sincere. He looked at her the way someone does when they are genuinely curious. Genuinely listening. And so, she kept talking. About the markets she loved to wander, the little shops she could spend hours in, the bracelets she’d made for her friends. Every now and then, he would nod or smile, offering a thoughtful comment that made it clear he was still with her.
But even as she spoke, something in her heart began to stir.
He had shared something heavy. Something unspoken and painful. And yet, here he was. Still smiling. Still trying. Still listening. All for her.
Elarion was kind.
Maybe too kind.
She felt a familiar tension rising in her chest. A tightening that began in her ribs and crept slowly upward. And then, before she could think better of it, the words slipped out.
“Elarion, I… I’m not confident I’d be good for a committed relationship.”
She didn’t look at him when she said it. Her voice was quieter than before. Measured. Almost rehearsed.
“I just... know myself. And the world I grew up in. The way I was raised. I’m still figuring things out.”
It wasn’t cold. It wasn’t abrupt.
But it was a line drawn in soft chalk between them.
For a moment, Elarion didn’t respond. He had been mid-sip of his drink and paused, placing the glass down gently. His eyes lingered on the candlelight for a moment longer before he looked at her. There was a flicker of something in his gaze. Not hurt. Not disappointment. Just... pause.
Then he smiled. A quiet, understanding smile that reached the edges of his eyes.
“I understand.”
He didn’t ask for more. Didn’t press or prod. Just let the moment settle between them like snow falling over something fragile.
He understood.
Even if his heart was already taking a step closer.
They spent the rest of the evening doing their best to steer the conversation toward lighter things. The food, the music, a funny story about Ayda and a basket of honeycakes. Their smiles came easier after a while, though something lingered beneath them. A hush in the pauses. A shadow in the glances they didn’t quite hold.
Elarion laughed when she teased him about his choice of wine, and she smiled when he awkwardly tried to compliment her earrings, but somewhere deep in his mind, a thought whispered quietly. Maybe he had said too much. Maybe stories like his weren’t meant to be brought to tables like this. Maybe he’d ruined what might have been.
Across the table, Iris held her wine glass delicately, letting her fingers trace the stem. Her heart felt heavier than she wanted it to be. There she was again. Pushing someone away before anything even had the chance to bloom. It wasn’t intentional. Just instinct. But she had.
Still, they both smiled. They both tried. They both told themselves that maybe this didn’t have to be anything more than what it already was.
Maybe one night was enough.
Or maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t.
They didn’t know what would come next. But for now, they sat across from each other under the silver light of Calanmir’s chandeliers, wearing brave faces and the quiet hope that something good might still come of this.