2410 Crescin 21, Velpa

Cyrdel's joints cracked as he stretched his arms on his way out of his most recent lecture. Everything he learned from the scholar had flitted away from his brain the moment he passed through the door. Well, he could always learn it again should he feel like it.

As such, it wasn't too much of a hassle to go meet with the scholars now. If he was caught unaware, he might even say that attending lectures was a tolerable experience. Still, he wasn't ready to admit that wholly just yet.

His footsteps echoed along the long hallway decorated by a mess of paintings and marble busts. It was like the King and Queen ran out of things to put their memorabilia and had just decided the corridors were the best place for it. When was the last time they even looked at some of these?

The faces of his ancestors, the past ruling dynasties, and their own set of advisers blurred in Cyrdel's mind as he breezed through them. The only thing that succeeded in catching his eye whenever he walked past it was the faded portrait of Dina the Tame. This time, however, Cyrdel paused in front of it when he came upon it.

Time had faded the painting to nothing more than an artful arrangement of brushstrokes and paint. The luster that must have been bright in Dina's eyes had subsided into a scant reflection of light. For someone who brought tremendous honor to her race, so much so that she had a holiday celebrating her naming day, her own memory sure was being honored by being hung in a corridor where not a lot of people pass through, gathering dust.

Maybe that's why her smile had not been the happiest in this portrait. Or something.

Cyrdel shook his head and continued walking. Ravalee should be waiting for him in the Crafting District. He couldn't wait to join them for lunch after hurriedly eating his own in the form of a fairy potion. That way, he could take it while he walked and Airene wouldn't have to feed him with the meager wage she earns by working in the textile factory.

It had been his habit for a long while ever since Ravalee suggested it. Cyrdel hated sitting stiffly in a rigid dining hall, enduring hundreds of eyes upon him as he take a bite out of his soup. He'd rather talk and laugh with Airene and Ravalee inside a dimly-lit dining table in the middle of the Crafting District.

He turned a corner and he came across the main, second floor lobby of the main wing. The wide space was adorned with couches, ornamental plants, and yes, even more paintings. Although, thankfully, the ones out here featured only random splashes of color thrown into the canvas. There was one of a varichria wing on the far corner but that's that.

Muffled voices reached his ears and he turned just in time to see the throne hall's doors slightly ajar. Cyrdel knitted his eyebrows. What's going on there? Usually, the proceedings were calm. What's got them so riled up today?

Without thinking, he edged closer to the door and peeked. The podium, being on a raised dais in the middle of the short pews, was the first thing he saw. On it, standing with her back to the door, was a woman with curly red-gold hair reaching her waist. It was a familiar woman. Cyrdel's eyes widened. It couldn't be...

"Airene?" Cyrdel whispered. What was she doing here?

The woman remained oblivious of his presence by the door and instead focused on her appeal. "Please, Masters of the Court," she was saying, her tone close enough to be called begging. Still, it carried a tinge of command. "The Temple can't take my charge. What happened to the Crovalis' correspondence?"

Cyrdel frowned. What was being mentioned for?

"I will tell you the same thing we told him, then," Master Philine's flat voice rang in reply. "These things take time. The Temple taking your daughter at this point in time is something we can do nothing about."

"T-there might still be something," Airene seethed. From his place behind the door, he watched her stance straighten and turn rigid. Daughter? Airene has one? "Besides, she's not my daughter. She's my niece."

Cyrdel's throat constricted. His hands flew forward and the next hing he knew, he had flung the throne hall's doors wide open. The knob slammed into the wall the door was connected to as he marched forward. "They can't take her!" he shouted. His voice echoed in the shocked silence that erupted in his outburst.

The Advisers frowned as one. "Do you know that what you did is disrespectful, Crovalis?" Master Philine asked. Cyrdel knew she wasn't really looking for an answer because she continued right away. "What do you know of this case?"

Cyrdel stopped a few paces away from the raised dais. From the podium, Airene's mouth hung partly open as she turned to look at him. He blew a breath and calmed his nerves. It's just talking. It's just talking. He could do this. For Ravalee.

"She's a friend," he revealed, introducing another wave of narrowed eyes and murmurs inside the Court's ranks. "I would add to Airene's motion for Ravalee Vivenca's sentence to the Temple be put on hold until we could reach a proper compromise with the correspondence."

Master Nerira slammed his hand on his desk, making a few brownies seated on the pews flinch. "Is this why you insisted on opening the discussion for?" he gave Cyrdel a mocking clap. "Gods, I almost didn't see it! I have to say you've outsmarted us for once. Doesn't mean I, or the rest of the Court, like it."

"Crovalis, why must we consider your appeal?" Master Philine asked. Her tone wasn't pointed but it sure sent horror down Cyrdel's spine. "Do you have a good enough reason?"

Cyrdel bit his lip, his mind already whirring through the tomes about law and governance he had been forced to read during his lectures. Come on. Scholar Alshera was talking about it earlier too...

"Well?" Master Nerira prompted. "If you cannot provide a legal reason, then we'd have to end the conference about this matter—"

"She's my fiance!" Cyrdel blurted. His voice echoed in two or three more rings before fading into the thick air inside the hall.

Silence.

Master Philine blinked. She, too, was at a loss for words. "S-Sorry?"

"She's my fiance," Cyrdel repeated, with less of a high-pitched tone and more of a modulated voice. "The Temple cannot take her because she's the recepient of my favor."

"Are you sure about this decision, Crovalis?" the King spoke up. The addition of his voice into the fray added a little layer of thickness in the atmosphere. "It'll be your job to integrate her into the royal life. How can you do it to others if you can't do it to yourself? Proposals need the approval of the Vari, after all."

Cyrdel raised his eyes to meet his father's. "I will do my best," he said. It seemed that every time he opened his mouth, he was shoving himself into more and more mess. "I swear on Daexis's name, I will do everything you tell me to do."

"Even if I tell you to stop inventing?" the King challenged.

Cyrdel's nostrils flared as his gut twisted. He glanced at Airene who had began to climb out of the dais. "You don't have to do this, Cyrdel," Airene whispered, loud enough for him to hear but not the whole Court high up in the balconies.

He met the woman's beige eyes. "It's the only way to stall her servitude, at least until the Court and the Temple smoothed it out with the new recruitment policies," he said. "Don't you want to get her back?"

Conflicting emotions danced in Airene's eyes. "I can't let you give more of your life up for our sake," she insited.

"Then consider this as my gratitude to your niece," Cyrdel said. "She had been a great friend. I won't abandon her when she needed me."

Airene sighed but stepped aside as Cyrdel pushsed past her to regard the King's condition. "Get Ravalee in the palace," he said. "I'll stop inventing."

Terse seconds passed by. Finally, the King sighed and waved a hand to the Court. "Bring that girl back here," he said. Airene's face brightened but she flashed a somber glance in Cyrdel's direction. Cyrdel gave her a small smile despite the dread and sadness creeping in his gut. He couldn't imagine his life without inventing but if Ravalee needed that to happen for her to still have one, he's more than willing to offer it to her.

"I would expect you to keep your promise, Crovalis," the King said.

Cyrdel leveled his gaze to his father's face. "Count on it."

Ravalee helped him in her own way so, now, he would repay her in his. Let him hope in the gods' name that he wasn't making a big mistake.

You don't have to do that, you know? Ravalee's voice speared in his mind. He turned from the tools he hung on the wall of his shop to find her coming up to him. She gave him a soft smile. I could have just run away on my own.

"Do you really want that, Rav?" he said. If she minded him calling her by her nickname, she didn't show it. "And it's not like I did it just for you. I did it for Airene, too. She loves you too much."

How about you? Ravalee's question made Cyrdel forget about the tools, his projects, and even the fact that he was supposed to be saying goodbye to this quaint workshop he had developed over the years. He met her gaze. She didn't look angry. What do you feel about me?

A lump formed in Cyrdel's throat. He gulped against it. "I'm, uh..." he rubbed the back of his neck. "Well...I happen to, um...like you."

The last part of his sentence had died down into a small squeak but Ravalee's eyes sparkled with mischief. That's really an absurd way to propose to someone, she said. You know?

Cyrdel sighed and drove his hair out of his face. Of course, she's going to say something about that. "We don't have to go through with it if you don't want to," he said. "I'm sorry if you feel like I forced this on you."

That's a shame, then. Ravalee tucked her hair behind her ear. Because I like you too.

"What?" Cyrdel blinked. All this thoughts had vanished from his mind. What did she say?

Ravalee chuckled. Then, she raised her hand and gestured to her chest, then she moved her hand in circles on it before pointing her splayed hands towards him and bringing her fingers to her face.

Cyrdel stepped backwards. It was one of the first signs he taught her, along with thank you. It was a variant of the words you're welcome, but the addition of the last gesture caught him off guard. Now, it's more like saying I welcome you.

He opened his mouth to say something—anything. "I..."

Ravalee moved closer and kissed him, blocking any words from spilling out. She probably saved him from sayinga lifetime of embarrassing things. Then, she pulled away just as quickly, smiling at him like she hadn't just done what she did.

Before he could rationalize the whole thing in his head, he wrapped his arm around Ravalee's waist, pulling her back to him. Well, they liked each other. Might as well, right? Upon seeing Ravalee's nod, he tilted his head to the side and pressed his lips to hers.

And this time, time wasn't an issue for the both of them.