"I want to see it," I said, although I’m not really that big a fan of romantic stories. "They say it’s an adaptation of an old romance novel."
"The one about lovers separated by their social status?" she asked, with a glint in her eyes that I couldn’t tell if it was curiosity... or sothing more.
"Yes... That one," I nodded, and lowered my voice a little, trying to recall its contents. "The princess who waits under the moon for the soldier who can’t promise her anything..."
For a few monts, Alia remained silent. Her fingers played with the hem of her skirt, as if she suddenly didn’t know where to put her hands. When she ca to, she looked up, a subtle, contained sadness reflecting in her eyes. It wasn’t obvious, but it was there, like a soft shadow. And I... I could only stare at her.
Talking about that story, about that kind of impossible love, was a thorn in the side of those like her who yearn for freedom. There were things that didn’t need to be said out loud. Things that hurt more when nad. I knew firsthand that Lady Fate was a bitch with cold, unkind hands, and that sotis, no matter how much you wanted sothing... it just wasn’t enough.
Ti passed quickly, so much so that it slipped away without us even realizing it. The light from the lanterns began to fade little by little, as if the world were holding its breath. Only the stage in front of remained illuminated; its beautiful glow was like magic. And then, with a murmur of emotion from the audience, the curtain rose and the play began.
***
The play ended with sighs and tears from the audience. Around us, so of the people closest to us left their seats with red eyes, others continued to sob silently. The story, though simple, had touched a nerve we all had hidden inside: An impossible love.
Beside , Alia was wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand, trying to maintain her composure. Her chin was trembling slightly, but I couldn’t say anything. I watched her out of the corner of my eye and didn’t know what to say. Part of wanted to comfort her, but I didn’t know how.
The play didn’t do much for ; I only felt a pang in my chest. Love was still a distant emotion for ; I wasn’t ready to give everything for soone other than myself. It may sound immature, but in the end, human beings are inherently selfish. Like a lody you hear from another room. Recognizable, but not entirely understandable.
Goodbyes... goodbyes were a regular part of my life. They didn’t hurt like they used to. Maybe that’s why I didn’t cry. Maybe that’s why I just stood there, silent, feeling at ho again.
As we rose, the sun was already setting behind a blanket of clouds that were beginning to turn purple and dark blue. The mana lamps, those small floating spheres that decorated the festival, lit up with greater vigor, illuminating the paths with a gentle warmth. The atmosphere changed subtly, as if trying to console the lants of all the lovers who wept in the theater. A string quartet played in one of the central squares, and its lody seed to delicately envelop everything.
It was strange. Inside the theater, sadness lood. Outside, it almost seed as if the night was celebrating with soft, lively music. But that, I thought, was the beauty of the festival: you could experience a flood of emotions without leaving the sa place. Joy and lancholy all coexisted in a fragile and epheral harmony. That fleetingness made it all the more precious.
Near us, so people began to light small floating lanterns. They released them into the wind, and they rose majestically into the sky, like fireflies that refused to go out. I followed them with my gaze and wondered if it was possible to make a wish on sothing so fragile. Then I stopped thinking about it and looked for a place to rest.
We sat on a wooden bench, right in front of one of Nova’s main gardens. The petals spiraled down from the trees, carried by the wind, painting the ground in shades of pink and white. It was like watching spring say goodbye.
Alia seed calr; her shoulders were no longer so tense, and her gaze, although a little distant, had a subtle glow. The silence between us wasn’t awkward. It was... a little friendlier.
"You know," I said finally, breaking the mont, but gently, "I’m glad you invited ."
She glanced at , her large eyes eting mine. It took her a few seconds to respond, but when she did, her voice was barely a whisper:
" too... I’m glad you ca."
The wind blew again, carrying the fallen leaves and bringing a pleasant breeze across my face. In the distance, fireworks exploded, orchestrated by the student council. Stars in shades of violet and orange appeared in the sky, reminding of the parties back ho. For monts like this, everything seed to stand still. There was no noise, no rush, no future. Just that mont, suspended in ti. To be cherished for a lifeti.
And I stood there, looking at Alia, listening to the music, feeling the fresh night air. I thought these monts were unique and quite rare. Too rare. In a world that would soon be shaken, everything would change faster than anyone could comprehend, and the person you trusted would likely be the one who stabbed you in the back. In a world like this, these little fragnts of calm were worth more than anyone could imagine.
That’s why I was willing to treasure them. Because I know there won’t be another like it. Because when things fall apart, when the war begins, only these beautiful monts will remain in my mory.
***
The next morning marked the beginning of the second day of the festival. Like the previous day, it began with the coming and going of preparations, from organizing the nu, checking that we still had ingredients, making sure the tables were spotless, and putting on our butler outfits. We didn’t forget to review the rehearsed choreography. Although our bodies felt sowhat tired from the previous day, the festive atmosphere was still energizing.
The doors opened promptly, and the first custors began to arrive. So were returning for the second ti; others were new, curious, or simply visitors attracted by the aromas and laughter.
"Welco, miss," I said, bowing my head slightly as I greeted the person who had just walked through the entrance.
A group of three won stopped right in front of . All of them were elegantly dressed, their clothes embroidered with gold threads and delicate details that were clearly uncommon among the students at the institute. There was a subtle air about them, as if every step was asured, every gesture thoughtful. I imdiately recognized the bearing of aristocratic ladies in the way their eyes scanned the room as if assessing its worth.
One of them, in the center, seed to be the leader of the group. Her direct, self-possessed gaze was hard to ignore. She looked up and down carefully, with a slowness that made look away for a mont. I had never t such a bold girl. It wasn’t simply curiosity. There was sothing more to the way she looked at ... sothing that made uncomfortable, though I couldn’t quite put my finger on why.
"This way, please," I said, forcing a smile as I led them to a table by one of the large windows, where the morning light filtered through the trees in the garden.
Once they were settled, I approached, notepad in hand.
"What would you like to order?" I asked politely.
The woman tilted her head slightly. A small smile touched her lips as she spoke flirtatiously.
"You," she said softly, yet clearly enough to leave no doubt about what she’d said. "But I suppose you’re not on the nu... right?"
I kept my composure as best I could; I hadn’t expected her to say sothing like this; it took a little by surprise.
"I’m sorry to disappoint you, miss," I replied with a slight nod, maintaining a formal tone. "But I’m afraid I’m not available for service."
She chuckled, the sound elegant but with an edge that was hard to ignore.
"A pity," she murmured, then looked down at the nu. "In that case... get a baldong tea. And..."
Her sentence was abruptly cut short. Suddenly, I felt a hand lightly brushing against my pants, a little too close to my crotch. The gesture was subtle, brief, but enough to make tense. I discreetly took a step back, pretending I was simply going to take her order.
"I’ll be right back with your tea," I said, with a polite but firm smile.
I turned quickly and walked toward the kitchen. I didn’t say anything; ssing with a nobleman in broad daylight is practically suicide anyway. Besides, no one had seen her except . I couldn’t take that risk.
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