NOVEL NEXT Chapter 36: Cousin
He turned his head at once, his body reacting before his mind caught up. The voice hit him like a punch, carrying a familiarity that unsettled him. Though his face stayed composed, his stance shifted, weight settling into his heels as if bracing for whatever came next.
"I knew the moment I saw your carriage outside you would be here."
A figure stepped out from the corridor ahead. Blonde hair, pale blue eyes, her presence carrying a certainty that needed no introduction. He recognized her instantly. Aline Noriel.
She crossed the space between them in hurried steps. Before he could say anything, she closed the distance and drew him against her. Her arms wrapped around him with the kind of ease only family dared, the kind that demanded he stand still and accept it.
Vencian allowed it. He kept his expression cool, even though unease surfaced beneath. I did not expect her to be here. I should have… no, I couldn't have prepared for this. He kept his hands steady at her back, the briefest pat enough to acknowledge her without encouraging her to stay.
When she finally stepped back, her eyes were already glossy. "I'm sorry I couldn't come to the funeral. I wanted to, but things at home made it impossible. I sent a message through gramox. You did get it, right? I was worried it might end up in some drawer."
Her words carried guilt, plain and unhidden.
He dipped his head slightly. "It reached me." His tone was steady, not unkind. "And you don't need to apologize."
She studied him closely, as though gauging whether he meant it. He kept his gaze level, showing neither resentment nor warmth, only the calm surface he had learned to wear in moments like this.
If she starts talking about details I don't know, I'll have to keep redirecting. Stay alert. Don't let her see hesitation.
The corridor lay mostly still, the silence broken now and then by the muted echo of shoes against stone. But for him, the air narrowed to the space between them, his cousin's eyes searching his own.
Vencian remained by the window. His hand brushed against the stone frame, cool under his palm, and he let his gaze fall toward the city spread below. The rooftops sloped into the distance, and beyond them the slow silver line of the river caught the muted daylight.
Aline moved beside him, leaning forward with her elbows on the ledge, her eyes following the view as if it had been years since she had last seen it.
"It doesn't feel that long since we were last here," she said, her voice softer than before. "Two months, yet it feels different now. Or maybe that's me—time hasn't been playing fair since… well, you know."
She glanced at him sideways, her lips curving. "I remember you standing here once, shrugging like the academy was already beneath you,"
He kept his gaze on the river, his expression composed. "Did I?"
"You did," she said quickly, as if she had been waiting to remind him. "You even bragged you'd end up correcting the professors. I nearly believed you, too."
He tapped his finger lightly against the ledge, the smallest movement betraying thought. "And you're saying I was wrong?"
"You're here," she replied, her eyes narrowing with quiet amusement. "Which means I win. Again. I should start keeping score."
His lips moved into the faintest line of a smile. "You always turn everything into a game you can win."
She tilted her head toward him without turning fully, the side of her mouth lifting. "And you always act like you don't care when you lose. That look on your face hasn't changed at all."
The exchange felt natural, the kind they had practiced for years without thinking. For a brief moment, the noise of the corridor felt further away, as though the two of them were suspended outside the passing world.
The heaviness in her voice grew lighter at that, though her gaze lingered on him with an edge of concern that didn't fade as quickly. The warmth of shared memory stood against the grief that neither of them had spoken aloud yet.
The brief amusement between them faded as Aline's expression grew more serious. She hesitated for only a breath before speaking, her words carrying a weight that broke through the lighter air.
Her eyes softened as she traced the view beyond the window. "I'd give anything to argue with them again—Moses especially. He always listened to my nonsense, even when it was pointless."
She fell quiet, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before pulling herself upright. Her lips curved faintly. "Since I can't argue with him anymore, I'll settle for you."
The small smile faded almost as quickly as it appeared. She let out a breath and studied him, hesitation flickering in her eyes before she continued. "And you… I still can't understand how things fell apart between you and Seris."
Vencian's body stilled, though his face showed no change.
"She never admits it. Seris would rather choke than say things out loud, but I know her better than most." Aline shook her head. "She thinks she's subtle, but she isn't with me." She caught herself, then pressed on.
His gaze held steady on her, but inside, his mind tightened around the careful balance he needed. So she knows Seris closely.
Aline stepped closer, lowering her voice. "If something happened, if you messed it up somehow, you can tell me. I can talk to her. She pretends not to listen, but I promise she does. With me, at least."
Out of the corner of his eye, Quenya drifted in the air, arms folded. She kept her distance, hovering near the opposite wall as if to say the mess was his alone to deal with.
He drew in a slow breath, giving the impression of patience. "There's nothing to speak of. What's done is done."
Her brows knit together. "That doesn't sound like you. You never walked away from something you cared about. That's not the cousin I grew up with. So when you tell me this is over, I can't make myself believe it."
Her insistence pressed against him, each word spoken with the confidence of someone convinced they knew better. He studied her without shifting his stance. If I deny too strongly, she'll only push harder. Let's keep it even.
"I appreciate your concern," he said at last, his tone flat. "But there's no need for you to involve yourself."
Aline crossed her arms, eyes narrowing as though testing whether his calm front was real or forced.
She shook her head, the firmness in her tone becoming gentler only a little. "Say what you like, but I think you're lying more to yourself than to me. You don't look finished with her. Not yet."
If only she knew—the cousin she remembers isn't here anymore, and playing along would give me away.
Vencian held her gaze, unflinching. "It is finished."
The words landed straight, leaving no room for her to wedge herself further.
Her lips parted as if to argue again, but she let the quiet hang instead. The corridor's silence gave way again to faint footsteps and murmurs drifting from deeper in the academy. Aline turned her face away briefly, composing herself, then looked back at him with reluctant restraint.
"You're stubborn," she said quietly.
His expression stayed composed, but his mind turned over the weight of her words. Meeting Seris wasn't an idea he rejected outright. In truth, the thought had been circling him for days.
I will talk to Seris, he admitted inwardly, the thought cutting clear. But not in the way anyone expects. Going to her openly could be suicide. If I reach her, it will be on my terms, in a way that lets me see more than she thinks she's showing. Done right, it could reveal much more than what an ex-fiancée has to say.
They let the silence stretch again. The world around them carried on, but the stillness between the two cousins settled heavy, unbroken until Aline finally stepped back.