The world is divided into two categories of individuals: those who believe that destiny is preordained and those who believe they can shape their own path. Lianne identifies with the latter group. However, growing up in the dazzling light of Lys, sh...
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As soon as I arrived, all the people who had crowded the reception hall had vanished, along with Deimos' future wife – thankfully. My first thought was to scan the room with my eyes to find Deimos. Not finding him instinctively, I headed straight to where I had left him. As I had imagined, he hadn't moved a step; he came towards me, studying my entire figure meticulously.
"Is everything alright?" he asked, agitated."Doesn't it seem so?" I challenged him, but evidently, I hadn't been convincing enough. I ran my fingers through my hair, and the fact that he was still there, examining me for signs of struggle, wounds, or fights on my body, unsettled me.
"You're cut, for safety's sake, have Dr. O'Callagan check you out!" he implored, pointing to what I considered a scratch, encrusted with blood that had stained my leg red."Maybe later. What happened after I left?"I clenched the bullet I had wrapped in the stained and worn fabric of my dress in my hands. Deimos hesitated for a few minutes, then took a seat in the chair next to him, exhausted.
"Your soldiers split into two groups. Some came to look for you, others were trying to identify the assailant. The guests were sent away, and..." he carefully examined my expression, seeming undecided. He appeared to be searching for traces of psychological or emotional damage on my tired face.
"And...?" I asked impatiently, waving my hand in front of his eyes to remind him that I was still there, waiting for his answer."I called off the wedding with Idian.
This whole ordeal made me realize what I want," he concluded, his voice filled with emotion. I completely ignored him. I was becoming firmly convinced that our feelings did not belong to us. The sun and the moon had glued them to us without giving us any choice; I had felt that sensation millions and millions of times. The fact that we couldn't control them annoyed me. They were overwhelming and irrational; they hurt, making me feel broken and incomplete. I found our way of interacting frustrating – hurting each other and arguing. Most of the time, we couldn't make any sense of it, proving that our words were just empty.
"Do you have the lunar ring and the Devertech with you?" I asked, pulling myself out of the tangle of thoughts weighing down my mind. He was waiting for a reaction to his previous statement; I was determined not to give him any satisfaction. I had wanted to both strangle and kiss him more than once that evening, but it wasn't in my nature. My audacity only appeared as arrogance and bravado; my pride was an insurmountable wall that I had never managed to break down all those years. In that moment, I wisely suggested to myself not to lose the last shred of dignity I had left. The fact that he had called off the wedding didn't comfort me, nor was it enough for me to decide to throw myself at his feet and forget everything. I was tired of words; I had often wished over those years that he would press me against a wall, kissing me passionately and declaring that I was the one for him. Lost in my fantasies, I waited for his response for a long time without even realizing it. He nodded when he realized his declaration hadn't moved me at all. He moved forward, opening his large left hand in front of my face, revealing his index finger with the white gold ring holding the opaque Adularia stone. I could see the Devertech in the form of an elegant black steel watch on his wrist; it was well-equipped to defend itself in my absence. I didn't quite understand what was happening; I saw all the furniture disappear around us as the room was swallowed by thick, dense darkness that pressed down on me. "Deimos!" I exclaimed in alarm; he pulled me towards him with a gentle gesture, and only when I felt his warm arms wrap around me, did I calm down.
