[Ace’s POV]
I walked in comfortable silence, Ovelia’s hand warm in mine. My other arm was loaded—her precious cookbook tucked against my side, the large silver wolf plush wedged beneath it. She carried the bouquet of flowers in her free hand, her expression dreamy and content as she occasionally lifted it to inhale the mingled scents.
My gaze drifted to Ray, who walked beside . Physically, he was present, his legs moving in rhythm with ours. But his orange eyes were distant, unfocused—his mind clearly orbiting sowhere far beyond the festival lights while he chanically held the fairy stuffed toy Gale had yet to reclaim. The earlier conversation with Prince Zephyr weighed on him. I could see it in the subtle tension around his jaw, the slight furrow between his brows.
"Ray," I said quietly.
He blinked, his gaze snapping back to the present. For a mont, he looked at as if reorienting himself.
"Set it aside for now," I advised, keeping my voice low. "Let’s enjoy the festival first. We can strategize later."
A small, genuine smile touched his lips. He nodded, so of the tension easing from his shoulders.
His gaze shifted to Gale, who walked ahead of us, his posture its usual blend of irritation and forced nonchalance. "Gale," Ray called.
Gale glanced back, his gray eyes wary.
Ray held out the fairy stuffed toy. "Carry your stuffed toy."
For a heartbeat, Gale looked like he might argue. Then, without a word, he reached back, grabbed the stuffed toy, and tucked it under his arm with the resigned acceptance of soone carrying a lifelong burden.
I leaned closer to Ray, lowering my voice to a whisper. "What did you do? It’s like you tad him."
"If you’re going to whisper about ," Gale’s voice cut through without him turning around, "try harder. I can still hear you."
Ray laughed softly, an easy, unbothered sound. He stepped forward and gave Gale’s shoulder a gentle, friendly tap. "Sorry, sorry."
I looked down at Ovelia. Her face was tilted up toward the lanterns strung between stalls, a soft smile on her lips. "Ovelia, is there anything you’d like to eat? Or drink?" I asked, scanning the stalls ahead. A vendor selling honeyed nuts. Another with grilled fish on skewers.
She shook her head, still gazing at the lights. I sighed internally. Here we go again. She wasn’t staring at any particular stall or food, so nothing had caught her interest yet. For now, she seed content simply to walk and observe.
"Hey, everyone." Gale’s voice was low, almost reluctant. He wasn’t looking at us, his gaze fixed sowhere ahead. "I really didn’t cheat."
The words hung in the air. All of us froze for a fraction of a second—even Gale himself seed shocked by his own admission. His ears tinged pink.
He spun to face us, his expression shifting from embarrassnt to defensive anger in an instant. "Just forget you heard that!" he snapped, then turned and began walking faster, his shoulders hunched.
Did he just break character? The grumpy, perpetually irritated fairy had just voluntarily sought reassurance.
I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips. "You’re back to being a nopausal lady again," I called after him, then added, more sincerely, "Of course we know you didn’t cheat. None of us ever thought you did."
His pace slowed slightly, returning to normal.
"Most of the crowd believed you," Ray added, falling into step beside him. "Especially those who could sense mana. They saw clean catches, no tricks."
"Like Lia and Prince Zephyr said," Ann chid in from Ovelia’s other side, "you won fair and square. The way you caught those sticks was incredible. It was like—"
"I don’t like hearing complints from you," Gale interrupted, his voice dripping with irritation. "It creeps out."
"What did you just say?!" Ann’s voice sharpened.
And they were off, their familiar bickering filling the night air like the comfortable squabbling of siblings.
Beside , Ovelia chuckled softly, a warm, fond sound.
I glanced at a large clock mounted on a nearby stall, its hands glowing under a lantern. "Everyone." I stopped walking, and the group paused with . "There’s one hour and forty minutes left before the festival ends. How about we split up to buy food for everyone? It’ll be faster."
Ray nodded imdiately, already turning. "Agreed. Let’s et back here in forty minutes. Don’t be late." And then he was walking away, disappearing into the crowd before anyone could voice an opinion.
I sighed. We hadn’t even heard everyone’s thoughts yet.
My gaze landed on Ann. She was watching , then her eyes flicked to Ovelia, then back to . The worry was clear in the slight furrow of her brow.
"If we have to separate for any reason," I said, answering her unspoken concern, "I’ll make sure she’s with soone I trust completely."
Sothing in her posture relaxed. "Alright. I leave her in your hands again." She turned to Gale. "Don’t be a third wheel."
"Tsk. I won’t," Gale muttered, his tone flat but lacking real heat.
"Enjoy your date, my lady," Ann said to Ovelia, a rare, genuine smile softening her usually serious features.
Ovelia nodded, smiling back. "Take care, Ann."
Ann raised her hand in a brief wave, then lted into the crowd with the fluid, silent grace of her forr profession.
Gale shifted his weight, glancing between us. "Looks like your suggestion was efficient." Gale admitted grudgingly. "Moving separately will be faster." Without waiting for a response, he turned and strode toward a nearby food stall, leaving Ovelia and alone in the gentle chaos of the festival.
I looked down at Ovelia. She was gazing up at , that soft, trusting expression on her face. "I guess it’s another friendly date again," she said, a hint of playful teasing in her voice.
"Yes," I agreed, and smiled.
Then a woman’s scream ripped through the festival noise.
"THIEF! STOP HIM!"
A small body slamd into —a child, a werewolf cub by the scent, moving too fast to stop. The impact was jarring, familiar, a sharp echo of another ti, another collision in another crowd.
He rebounded and fled, disappearing between two stalls. But not before I saw what he clutched in his small, grubby hand.
A leather pouch. Emblazoned with the Silverhowl crest.
My personal pouch.
My hand flew to my belt. Only the coin purse—the one with the prize money I had won—remained. The thief had been that fast, that skilled.
Rage flared—not at the loss of coin, but at what else was inside.
Every instinct scread at to pursue. But Ovelia—I couldn’t leave her alone.
"Ace?" Ovelia’s voice was worried, her hand tightening on mine.
I scanned the crowd desperately. Gale. He was at a cotton candy stall, not thirty ters away.
"GALE!" I shouted, my voice carrying over the music and chatter.
He turned, "WHAT?!" he yelled back, annoyance plain on his face.
I looked down at Ovelia. "Sorry, Ovelia."
Before she could respond, I bent, slid one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, and lifted her into my arms. She gasped, her hands flying to my shoulders for balance.
Then I ran.
The crowd parted before , people stumbling aside. In seconds, I reached Gale.
I set Ovelia down gently but swiftly. "Keep her safe!" I ordered, my voice tight. "Don’t let her out of your sight!"
I thrust the cookbook and the wolf stuffed toy into Gale’s arms. He took them automatically, his expression shifting from irritation to confusion.
"But it’s just a coin purse," he said, glancing at the direction the thief had fled.
I t his gray eyes, and my voice dropped to sothing raw, sothing barely controlled. "I don’t care about the money. That’s my personal pouch." I swallowed. "My wedding ring is inside."
For a single heartbeat, Gale’s face went completely blank.
Then I turned and ran, my wolf’s speed propelling through the crowd, my senses locked onto the fading scent of the thief.
[Ovelia’s POV]
I stood frozen, watching Ace disappear into the sea of festival-goers. The crowd swallowed him in seconds.
Wedding ring.
My left hand, still holding the bouquet, trembled slightly. I looked down at my own hand—at the simple, elegant band of silver with diamonds that circled my ring finger. I had almost forgotten it was there. After the ceremony, after everything that had happened, I had assud Ace had thrown his away. Discarded it as a aningless relic of a political farce.
But he kept it.
The realization blood in my chest, warm and bright and aching all at once. He had carried his wedding ring with him all this ti. In his personal pouch. Close to him always.
He still cares about it. About what it ans.
I looked up, toward the direction he had run. The crowd was oblivious, laughing and eating and enjoying the festival, unaware of the desperate chase happening sowhere beyond their sight.
I hope he gets it back, I thought, my fingers curling tighter around the bouquet stems. I hope he gets his ring back.
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