The clinking of porcelain gradually faded, as the last sips of tea were taken in contemplative silence. The air in the obsidian dining hall remained thick, not with tension exactly, but with something quieter—colder. Like the quiet after a snowstorm, where nothing has settled, yet everything feels... finished.
Amelia placed her cup gently on the saucer. Her golden eyes—piercing, always calculating—turned to Naoko.
"I suppose," she began, her voice calm but direct, "we should now speak of the engagement."
Naoko did not answer immediately. She reached for her own cup, sipped what remained of her tea, and set it down with the same elegance that marked all her movements. Then, after a brief pause, she nodded.
"Yes. Let us address it."
She didn't look at Amelia as she spoke. Her silver gaze shifted, instead, to Rina.
"You met him, didn't you?" Naoko asked, her voice low but precise. "Last night."
Rina froze.
The words fell like ice in her lap. Her fingers stiffened around her teacup. Her heart skipped—not once, but twice—as her mind raced.
Had she said something wrong? Did she *know*?
Naoko's eyes remained fixed on her—curious, not accusatory. "Because," she continued, "he smiled this morning. Laughed, even. The last time he laughed was... five years ago."
The moment Naoko mentioned *five years ago*, silence took over the table again. Even Amelia paused. The shadow of Estelle's name hovered in the air—unspoken, but felt.
Rina lowered her eyes, struggling to keep her expression neutral.
She could feel the heat crawling up her neck.
Last night.
How she'd ranted at him—how she'd cursed him to hell and worse. And now she sat here, knowing the boy who quietly drank his tea beside her earlier was the same one who bore every word without protest.
She couldn't tell them that.
Not now.
So instead, she simply said, "Yes. I met him briefly last night."
Nothing more.
Naoko's silver eyes lingered on her for a moment longer—searching, but not pressing. Then she simply gave a small nod, as if that was enough.
And just like that, she turned back to Amelia.
"The engagement," she said smoothly, "is not something I forced upon him. Nor is it something I expect Rina to accept blindly. But the arrangement, as you know, is strategic."
Amelia nodded. "As it should be."
"You and I share more in common than most would guess," Naoko went on, lifting her eyes now to meet Amelia's. "We protect what's ours. We build with purpose. That's why this union has merit—your daughter is strong. My son is... shaped."
Amelia tilted her head ever so slightly. "Shaped how?"
Naoko gave a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "To survive. To lead."
There was no pride in her voice. Only cold certainty.
Rina listened in silence. Her chest felt tight again. Her hands curled in her lap.
*To survive. To lead.*
Is that all she was meant to be too?
She couldn't help but glance toward the empty space where Jien had been sitting.
Had he truly not laughed in five years?
And yet… he had smiled last night.
She remembered the glimmer in his crimson eyes. The playfulness. The way he'd teased her—softly. Gently. Even after all the things she'd said.
She pressed her lips together.
This engagement—this entire arrangement—it wasn't just political. It was a collision. Of ideologies. Of histories. Of wounds.
And now, somehow, she was in the center of it.
........