Lunara stepped into the house. Since she had checked the first floor earlier, she decided to go straight to the second floor.
Looking to her right and left, she could see there were around three rooms upstairs.
She moved quietly, letting her fingers trail along the railing as she passed the first door. It was slightly ajar, and inside she spotted shelves of books and so scattered notes. Probably a study. The next one was closed, but she could guess it was a guest room, maybe storage.
Then, at the end of the hall, she found it. Their room.
She turned the knob slowly and pushed the door open. Soft afternoon light poured in through the curtains, casting warm hues on the bed and the polished floor. Everything looked untouched, and yet, lived in. A folded blanket on the edge of the bed. A glass on the nightstand.
She took a few careful steps in, the feeling was unfamiliar. She brushed her fingers along the edge of the dresser, then sat slowly on the edge of the bed.
She whispered, as if not to disturb the stillness,
"You really never let anyone in, do you?"
Then she smiled to herself, soft and sad.
Slamming her body onto the bed, she let out a weak sigh, the mattress sinking lightly beneath her. "What shall we eat tonight?" she murmured to the ceiling, blinking a few tis as her thoughts drifted to food, sothing simple, but enough.
"Pasta?" she asked herself. "No, too much effort. Soup? Ugh, boring."
She rolled to her side, tugging at a throw pillow and hugging it close. "We deserve sothing good," she said, mostly to herself but also to the space that now belonged to both of them. "Steak. Maybe with mashed potatoes. Or ran? No. Steak."
She stared at the pillow, frowning.
"But does he even have a frying pan in this place?"
The thought made her laugh softly, almost like a secret being let out.
"God, I bet he doesn’t even know where the salt is."
She stayed like that for a mont, sprawled on the bed, letting her eyes wander until sothing small pulled at her focus.
The drawer across the room wasn’t shut all the way. A sliver of paper jutted out from its edge.
Curious, she sat up and crossed the room. With a light tug, she pulled the drawer open.
The paper slipped aside, and beneath it sat a velvet box, dark blue, almost black, with a slight shine under the light.
She picked it up slowly and opened it.
Inside was a ring.
Different from the one on her finger. This one had a small, square-cut stone. Clean and elegant, but not her style at all.
She looked down at her hand. The simple, gold band Eryx had given her was still there. Warm, plain, and oddly comforting. This new one... felt like a stranger.
She stared for a mont longer before a breath of laughter slipped out.
"How many rings did you prepare, Eryx?" she murmured to the empty room, shaking her head.
She stared at the ring for a mont longer before quietly closing the box. Setting it back into the drawer, she was about to slide it shut when her eyes landed on the paper that had first caught her attention.
It wasn’t just a scrap, it was looking like a letter.
She pulled it out carefully. The handwriting was neat.
Curiosity got the better of her.
Slowly unfolded it, her eyes scanned the first line, and her heart gave a quiet thump.
’If you’re reading this, it ans I never found the right ti to say this out loud.’
She blinked. The next line was worse or better. She couldn’t tell.
’I want to marry you.’
Lunara froze.
Her hands tightened slightly around the paper.
’I’ve had the ring for a while now, and I’ve played this mont in my head a thousand tis. None of them turned out right. So here’s my backup plan: a letter, in case I can’t get the words out.’
Lunara blinked. Her eyes moved faster.
’I don’t know when I started looking at you differently. Maybe it was the night we argued and you still rembered my coffee order the next morning. Maybe it was the way you laugh, even when nothing’s funny, just to fill a silence I didn’t realize I hated.’
Her fingers tightened slightly on the page.
The words were warm. Gentle. A quiet kind of yearning. But sothing felt... off. She read on, hoping it would make sense, hoping the connection would land sowhere in her heart.
But the letter kept speaking of soone who felt distant. Familiar, maybe, but not hers.
’I kept thinking if I waited long enough, the right mont would co. But maybe the right mont doesn’t exist. Maybe I just have to stop being afraid.’
A small crease ford between her brows. She didn’t recognize the mories. The tone wasn’t the Eryx she knew when he looked at her.
He had never spoken to her like this. The words were tender, filled with longing, written as if the person on the other side of the page was the only one who ever truly mattered.
She read on, each sentence making her heart grow quieter.
’I don’t know if I’ll ever be brave enough to say this out loud, but I miss you in small ways. In the quiet parts of my day. The still monts before sleep. I wonder if you think of , too.
So here it is. I want to build sothing with you. A life. A forever.’
Lunara swallowed hard. The words felt like a slow unraveling of sothing she had never expected to find sothing that didn’t belong to her.
Her eyes flicked toward the velvet ring box still resting by the drawer. A thousand questions pressed against her ribs. ’Had he planned to propose to this person? Had he carried these feelings with him all along?’
She wanted to stop reading. She told herself to stop. But her gaze moved to the end of the page, almost involuntarily.
A closing line with a na. Written with more force than the rest of the letter. A na she recognised instantly.
’Will you marry , Seraphine?’
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