Rhys liked to think he was a decent person.
He wasn’t one for grand gestures, but he knew where his heart stood. Every mission beyond the castle walls showed him more of the same: hollow-eyed citizens scraping by, streets empty not because peace had come, but because the kingdom’s coffers prioritized weapons and war over its people.
It left a quiet ache in him.
He kept violence at arm’s length when he could. When he couldn’t, he made sure it was swift and necessary.
Rhys rarely let anger get the better of him. He didn’t raise his voice. He smiled on occasion, felt grief where it was deserved. If pressed, he might even admit to being soft in his own, private way.
Except when Leif tested his patience—that was another matter entirely.
Rhys liked to think he was a decent person.
And then Noel became a knight.
The ceremony was a blur now, but one thing stood out crystal clear: she was the only woman among them.
Noel was… different. An anomaly, if he was being polite. Something far stranger if he was being honest.
Daemos weren’t known for their kindness. Their culture prized strength, discipline, reserve. Yet Noel, standing there in her armor, wore her heart like a badge. She smiled without caution, spoke without guardedness. She treated everyone with the same steady warmth, whether they deserved it or not.
At first, Rhys had thought she wouldn’t last.
Softness, after all, didn’t belong in battle.
But he’d been wrong.
Her kindness wasn’t a crack in her armor—it was her weapon. She could laugh off cold shoulders and return to the fray without bitterness. Even when her fellow knights brushed her aside, even when they whispered about whether she truly belonged, she never let it break her.
Somewhere along the way, she stopped lingering on the edges and started staying close to Rhys.
While others went off on missions, there were times she’d remain behind, finding her way to his workspace without invitation or apology.
She’d talk as she watched him—about the kingdom’s politics, the crumbling magic reserves, the state of the weather, even the smallest detail of her day. Sometimes, she asked him questions about the potions he brewed, curious and unpretentious.
Rhys rarely offered much back. His answers were short, clipped. He assumed she’d get bored of his silence.
But she never did.
She filled the quiet without demanding anything in return, and slowly, Rhys realized it was better than being alone.
Now, though, the silence was all that remained.
Noel was gone.
It had started with an overheard conversation—something she wasn’t meant to hear. Talks of whether her place as a royal knight was sustainable. Idle speculation, careless words, Rhys himself went to find her, yet she wasn't there in the gardens or the training grounds. He wondered what insulting thing could be mentioned that was light enough, but enough to make her pack up and vanish.
That had been nearly a two Daemos eclipses ago.
Asch believed she was dead—likely fallen somewhere far from the castle, her body swallowed up by the wilderness. Pierce seemed to agree.
But Rhys didn’t.
Maybe it was foolish hope, maybe it was stubborn instinct. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that Noel was still out there, somewhere, alive.
Leif thought the same, though neither of them said much about it aloud.
Still, her absence lingered like something unfinished. He’d catch himself glancing toward the door out of habit, waiting to hear her light step, to catch her voice trailing into the room.
But there was only silence now.
And no matter how much time passed, Rhys couldn’t bring himself to let go of the idea that maybe—just maybe—she was waiting for someone to come find her.
(And maybe on that day, He can finally tell her what it feels to be with her.)
˚₊‧꒰ა🍂🍁🧡 ໒꒱ ‧₊
It had been a month since the Monopoly game, Two if you count the time when Noel had appeared, and Ava had found herself thinking about Noel more than ever.
Not that she hadn’t thought about her a lot before. But now? It was different.
Noel had fit so easily into her life—like she had always belonged. Whether it was casual afternoons helping Devon cook, late-night conversations with Andrew about books, or just those quiet moments when it was just the two of them in their shared apartment, Ava found herself… wanting more.
Which was insane.
Because she wasn’t sure if Noel felt the same way.
Sure, she lingered when they talked, and she always seemed to listen to Ava with that soft, attentive look. But that was just how Noel was, right? Warm. Kind. Unintentionally making Ava’s heart race every time she smiled.
So yeah. Ava had been meaning to tell her.
But every time she tried—whether it was while watching a movie or while Noel was distracted helping Andrew reorganize the bookshelf—her courage fizzled out. The words sat on the tip of her tongue, taunting her.
Until tonight.
Tonight, she was doing it.
The two of them had walked a little ways from the house, settling near a quiet clearing where fireflies blinked lazily in the tall grass. It was warm, the air still carrying the remnants of summer.
Noel sat beside her on the slight incline, knees drawn up, her golden eyes watching the flickering glow around them. She looked calm. Content.
Ava, meanwhile, was dying.
She glanced over at Noel, at the soft glow of the night reflecting in her eyes. Her stomach flipped.
Okay. Just say it.
“So,” she started, forcing herself to sound casual.
Noel turned to her, tilting her head slightly. “Hm?”
Ava licked her lips. “I was just—uh. I was thinking about something. And, you know, I figured I should probably tell you before I lose my nerve, because, um. That happens. A lot.”
Noel blinked, waiting patiently.
Ava exhaled sharply. “I like you.”
Noel’s expression didn’t change immediately. She just… watched her, like she was making sure she’d heard right.
Ava panicked.
“I mean—obviously, I like you, I just—you know, like like you, and I don’t know if that’s weird or if I’m just misreading things, and honestly, this was supposed to go way smoother in my head, but now it’s all coming out really fast, and—”
“Ava.”
Ava shut up.
Noel’s voice was quiet, but there was something in the way she said her name—steady, sure.
Noel didn’t look confused. Or uncomfortable.
If anything, she looked a little surprised.
And then—she smiled. That same small, hesitant smile she always had when she wasn’t sure she was allowed to be happy, but she was anyway.
“I like you, too, like courtship,” she said simply.
Ava’s brain stalled.
“…Wait. What?”
Noel’s smile widened. “I like you,” she repeated. Then, softer: “I thought… you already knew.”
Ava gawked at her. “I did not know!”
Noel let out a small, breathy laugh, shaking her head. “You’re the only person I want to spend my time with. You make me feel… at home.” She hesitated, glancing down at the hem of her sleeve before looking back up. “And when you smile at me, I feel like I belong somewhere.”
Ava was pretty sure her heart was about to combust.
Her pulse was pounding in her ears, her breath coming a little too fast. Noel was still watching her, waiting.
Ava made a split-second decision.
She leaned in.
It wasn’t dramatic or rushed. Just a soft, warm press of lips, unsure but steady.
Noel tensed for half a second, then melted against her, exhaling lightly. Ava barely had time to process the way Noel’s lips curved against hers before Noel was kissing her back, just as hesitant, just as gentle.
When they pulled apart, Ava was grinning, breathless.
Noel blinked at her, then glanced down, fingers brushing the hem of her sleeve again. “…That was nice,” she murmured, as if testing the words.
Ava let out a small, breathy laugh. “Yeah,” she agreed. “Really nice.”
Noel’s smile widened, just a little.
And as they sat there together, shoulders barely touching, fireflies flickering in the warm night air, Ava knew—this was only the beginning.
˚₊‧꒰ა🍂🍁🧡 ໒꒱ ‧₊
