Chapter 60

Ember

My ribs ache from the injury I received from the rogue attack, a constant reminder of how close I came to losing everything. I rise early each day, moving carefully through my morning routine to avoid aggravating my still healing wounds. Despite the healer’s assurances that my recovery is progressing well, the pain continues to linger.

The days start to blur together with briefings, patrol reviews, and administrative tasks. I work through assignments, double check reports, and make every effort to keep my focus where it should be. Beneath the physical strain lies something more distracting, something that troubles me more deeply, the memory of the kiss Kaine and I shared.

I find myself continually haunted by the memory of his touch and the warmth of his lips against mine. Whenever my thoughts stray or the room grows quiet, my mind inevitably returns to that moment.

Each encounter with Kaine, each quiet discussion about the Chantarelle investigation, serves as another reminder of what happened between us and how fragile our professional boundaries have become.

My discomfort is not physical exhaustion, but rather the emotional weight of carrying this secret desire. I know the kiss was reckless. We both agreed it was a mistake, yet I cannot seem to fully convince myself, and the conflict within me is distracting and draining.

Later in the afternoon, Kaine visits my office to follow up on a lead. His voice is cautious, his demeanor reserved. We agree to meet again after the evening patrol briefing.

After he leaves, I lean back in my chair and close my eyes, breathing deeply to regain composure before resuming my duties. I glance at the papers spread across my desk and remind myself of my responsibilities, pushing away thoughts of Kaine's lingering presence.

That evening, he returns with a stack of marked pages. By the time he arrives, I am already surrounded by open files and notes. Without hesitation, Kaine sits across from me, and we fall into our familiar rhythm.

He points out important details as we note inconsistencies in the Chantarelle accounts. The awkwardness from our previous meetings still exists, but tonight it seems slightly diminished. I allow myself to feel relief as we settle into comfortable silence.

At one point, Kaine stands behind me, pointing out a passage on the page before me. His hand brushes lightly against mine as he reaches forward, lingering slightly longer than necessary. My heart races, and I deliberately keep my breathing steady, careful not to show any reaction.

I shift slightly, hoping to break the charged atmosphere, but my awareness of him only intensifies. A short while later, as I hand him another report, our fingers touch once again. This time the contact feels more deliberate.

Kaine’s gaze shifts to mine, and his expression grows serious. Neither of us speaks. The silence between us feels charged with something we both know we should ignore.

Nara immediately stirs, urging me to confront these feelings and tell Kaine everything. I tighten my control, refusing to listen to her.

After a long moment, Kaine clears his throat and says, "I should probably go." He hesitates briefly by the door as if he wants to say more, but eventually leaves without another word. When the door closes behind him, I stare at it for a moment, collecting myself. The room feels emptier once he’s gone, colder despite the warmth of the small fire burning.

Over the next few days, I focus on my duties and stay busy to maintain my composure. I tell myself any lapse in concentration or momentary distraction is due solely to stress and the emotional aftermath of recent events. Each task completed helps restore a sense of routine and stability. Still, when night falls and the palace grows quiet, my thoughts inevitably drift back to Kaine and the kiss we shared.

Kaine and I continue our nightly meetings, reviewing case details methodically. Each evening, we regain a little more of the ease we had before, though the tension beneath the surface never fully disappears.

We never speak about our kiss, yet the memory permeates the air between us. I notice every brief smile and lingering look. The small moments between us feel more significant than they should be.

One evening, Kaine arrives later than usual, looking tired and I offer him tea and hand him a cup. When our fingers brush again, Kaine does not pull his hand away. Instead, he lingers briefly, holding my gaze.

My heart beats faster, and I quickly withdraw my hand to regain distance. "Thank you," he says softly, his eyes locked on mine, full of unspoken questions.I nod once and return quickly to my desk.

Neither of us breaks the silence as Kaine finishes his tea. When he finally bids me goodnight, he leaves without looking back, his footsteps fading slowly down the corridor. The quiet after he departs seems louder somehow, amplifying my unsettled feelings.

After he's gone, Nara speaks up. "You’re losing focus again."

"I know," I reply quietly, feeling frustrated at her satisfaction. "I’m trying not to."

I settle back into my chair and attempt to focus on the documents before me. My thoughts wander repeatedly, forcing me to reread lines multiple times before I comprehend them. My unease is not due to illness or injury, but rather the weight of everything happening around me.

The weight of the constant scrutiny of my new role, the memory of betrayal by the Captain, and the ever present desire I feel whenever Kaine is near all press down on me. I close my eyes for a moment, taking slow, measured breaths in an effort to clear my mind.

Tonight, maintaining complete control is more challenging than ever. Everything feels precarious, as if one wrong move could unravel everything I have carefully built.

I tell myself tomorrow will be different. Tomorrow, I will feel stronger, more focused, more determined. For tonight, however, all I can do is sit quietly at my desk, grappling silently with emotions I refuse to let myself acknowledge.

Eventually, I open my eyes again, reaching for a fresh piece of paper to distract myself. I start listing out the tasks awaiting me.

When my list is complete, I rise from my chair and walk to the window. I look out at the quiet grounds below, illuminated softly by the moonlight, and remind myself that my choices have brought me here. No matter what else happens, I have to maintain control.

With renewed determination, I return to my desk. I will regain my discipline and my focus. Tomorrow will be better, clearer. I must ensure it, for my sake and for the sake of everything I have worked so hard to achieve.