❖ A Night Between Confession… and Hesitant Hearts
After Zeke's departure, a silence fell over the mansion—
not the kind of stillness that rests, but one that seemed to breathe slowly,
its walls carrying the echo of questions no one had answered.
One by one, everyone withdrew to their rooms, claiming exhaustion,
yet their eyes remained wide beneath the ceiling of night.
As for him… he sat by the window, a cup of tea in his hands,
its warmth long gone—much like the firmness of his thoughts.
Levi.
He could not tell what troubled him more: Zeke's words…
or the way Sarah had looked at him when all voices had fallen silent.
A short breath escaped his chest.
And without thinking, he found himself standing.
His steps carried him down the upper corridor…
to her door.
He hesitated for a second—then knocked softly,
as if afraid of waking something deeper than sleep.
Levi (in a low voice):
"Are you… awake?"
A moment passed.
Then the door opened.
Sarah stood there in simple, pale-pink nightwear.
Her hair loose, her eyes half-drowsy.
But when she saw him… a small smile curved her lips.
Sarah (softly):
"I didn't expect to see you here… now."
He stepped back instinctively, then spoke in a tone unfit for a man like him—
uncertain, almost fragile.
Levi:
"I… wanted to talk."
She looked at him as though she could see what he had not said.
Then she opened the door a little wider and said with gentle warmth:
Sarah (smiling):
"Come in—before someone sees the captain of the corps sneaking about like a thief."
He entered quietly…
as though stepping into a heart rather than a room.
The scent of the room was like her: warm, subtle, slow to reveal itself.
He sat on the edge of the wooden chair, while she settled on the edge of the bed, facing him.
Sarah:
"What is it, Levi?"
He lowered his gaze for a moment, then raised it again.
Levi:
"When you spoke to Zeke… I saw something.
Something like… light, in the middle of a darkness I never believed could hold any."
He fell silent, searching for words as though they were weapons.
Levi (more slowly):
"I wanted to thank you.
You… make people want to believe again."
Sarah (in a whisper):
"And you? Do you believe again?"
He met her eyes.
For the first time… the answer was not ready.
Levi:
"I'm… trying."
Seconds passed.
Then she said, her tone light, balancing seriousness with a trace of playfulness:
Sarah:
"And all this… just for a word of thanks?"
He did not answer.
Instead, he rose slowly and stepped toward her… then stopped, hesitating,
trying to say something he did not know how to shape.
She looked up at him with drowsy eyes that held something like compassion for his weary soul.
She reached out gently… and took his hand.
He could have pulled away.
He could have fled—as he had all his life.
But he did not.
She leaned closer…
and in a single, silent second, placed a light… brief… warm kiss on his cheek.
It was not a kiss of declared love.
It was the kiss of someone who knows she stands before a heart that does not know how to ask,
nor how to confess—yet deserves to be reassured.
Sarah (whispering, as though finishing a prayer):
"Now… I can sleep without fear. Thank you."
Time Stood Still
And he… remained standing, unmoving.
Her hand was still holding his, but her grip slowly softened—
as if she were saying: "Now you choose whether you wish to stay."
He looked at her for a long moment… then whispered:
"Sometimes… the hardest battles are the ones you fight while no one is watching."
Then he withdrew quietly.
Out in the corridor, he raised his hand to his cheek—
where that kiss still lingered—
and murmured to himself:
"I only wish… this feeling were not so rare."
❖ Between an Unspoken Tenderness… and an Unwritten Threat
Morning slipped in through the curtains with a gentleness that felt almost unreal,
casting soft golden lines across the cold floor.
Sarah sat at the edge of the bed, wrapped in a light ivory robe,
holding a cup of coffee that had not yet cooled—yet she barely tasted it.
Her thoughts circled the night before.
His words. His gaze. And… her kiss.
It had not been a moment of weakness,
but a moment of truth.
As though something deep within her had begun to break—quietly.
A wall built of fear, of flight, of old betrayals.
Sarah (to herself):
Levi… why does my heart feel calmer every time I look into your eyes?
A faint smile touched her lips… but never fully formed.
A soft knock on the door.
She turned.
Luca stood there, brows drawn together as though the morning itself weighed on him.
Luca (in a low voice):
"We need to speak… in private."
He entered and closed the door behind him. Without waiting for her question, he extended a folded paper sealed with a red crest—the emblem of the Tybur family.
Sarah inhaled sharply.
That seal… she had not seen it in years.
Luca (with an unfamiliar sharpness):
"It reached me minutes ago. I didn't open it. I couldn't. The letter is for you alone."
She took it and began to read.
Her eyes moved quickly… but her features slowly froze.
"Sarah,
I know you have returned. Some souls cannot hide, no matter how long they vanish.
I remember your last words to me… yet I remain here, standing upon the ruins you believed would fall.
I do not intend to harm you.
However, you must understand: the world does not move safely unless intentions are made clear.
You have friends now… in a palace that is not yours.
It would be wise… not to decline my invitation.
At sunset.
The Tybur Estate.
Do not be late."
Her eyes stopped at the final line.
Sarah (in a whisper):
"He's been watching us… from the beginning."
Luca (stepping closer):
"Willy does not simply watch. He builds the stage… then steps back to see who will move."
Sarah (carefully):
"Did he tell anyone we are here?"
Luca (with a slow exhale):
"No. But, Sarah… we are not alone in this palace. Walls may not listen… but they do remember."
She fell silent.
Luca (meeting her eyes):
"You are now within the sight of the elite, my dear. Not only as a scientist… but as a balance piece.
Willy summons no one unless they are pivotal."
He stepped closer and placed his hand on her shoulder—heavy with politics, not affection.
Luca:
"Do not go there as a daughter… nor as a heroine. Go as a voice.
Do not fall into the trap of nostalgia or anger.
The Tybur estate does not offer second chances… nor does it forgive those who enter with their hearts instead of their minds."
Sarah stepped back, her eyes still locked on the letter.
Sarah (slowly):
"I will go… but alone."
Luca (gravely):
"I do not forbid you. I only warn you.
This sunset… will not be merely the end of the sun."
She stood in silence after Luca spoke, then moved quietly to the window.
She parted the curtain slightly, watching the garden where members of the corps had begun to move, preparing for the day ahead.
The sunlight was still soft—but it did not feel warm,
as though the earth itself sensed that something was coming.
Sarah (softly, without turning):
"We must distract the corps today.
Anything…
a game, a mock training session, even a fabricated experiment.
I don't want anyone to feel… that there is a letter capable of changing everything."
Luca stepped closer, his voice steadier now:
Luca:
"It would be wise to tell Hange.
If there is someone you trust… it is her.
And if there is someone among them whom I trust… it is her."
Sarah turned to him quickly, eyes widening in surprise—then laughed, for the first time that morning.
Her laughter was brief, but carried both wonder and mischief.
Sarah (teasing):
"Luca… do you like Hange?"
Luca faltered for a moment, bit his lip lightly, then looked away as if searching for a dignified answer—yet he did not flee.
Luca (softly, with a tired smile):
"I no longer tolerate salon women, Sarah.
Polished words… calculated laughter… everything there is packaged."
He sighed, eyes lowered, smiling like a man who had lived more than he admitted.
Luca:
"But Hange… she is living chaos.
And yet… she knows exactly where to place her feet."
Sarah looked at him for a long moment, as though seeing him for the first time as a man—not merely an uncle, not merely a politician. Then she said with a faint smile:
Sarah:
"So… it seems there is someone we must distract from the letter as well."
Luca lifted an eyebrow in feigned surprise.
Luca:
"Who?"
Sarah's smile turned sly.
Sarah:
"You."
❖ Scene: A Day of Rest… and a Screen That Tells Stories
Luca stood before everyone in the palace hall. He seemed calmer than usual, though his voice carried a trace of gravity.
Luca:
"Today… is a day of rest for you all. Do whatever you wish—only remain within the palace. For your safety, there are many eyes watching."
Sarah cast him a quick glance. She alone understood that he was speaking of the Tybur message, known only to the two of them.
Luca (smiling):
"And for that… I have prepared a surprise for you. A cinema hall—here, inside the palace."
A brief silence followed, as though the word itself were unfamiliar.
Connie (confused):
"Cinema?… Is that some kind of food?"
Layla (laughing):
"It's a large room with a screen where we watch films… stories that move with sound and image."
Luca:
"I built it for my mother. She loved the theater, but grew attached to films… because they allow one to relive a moment whenever one wishes."
The grandmother laughed warmly.
Grandmother:
"In Sarah and Layla's absence… those films were my only companions, my escape from reality."
Layla stepped closer and gently kissed her hand.
Layla:
"But we're back now… and we won't leave you again."
When the doors opened, everyone gasped in awe: a massive screen, soft seats, dim lights… and a surprise no one had expected.
Sasha:
"Waaah… even the chairs make a soft sound!"
Levi (quietly):
"This is a level of luxury I never imagined in Marley."
Luca (lightly):
"Before we begin… Miss Zoe, may I have a few minutes of your time? We need to speak privately."
Hange (raising an eyebrow):
"As long as you're not asking to clone me… I agree."
They slipped away quietly while servants prepared drinks and snacks, accompanied by elegant cards:
• "Love is a novel… and the film is its final chapter."
• "Popcorn is heard… before it is tasted."
Sarah smiled. There were moments that needed no ink to be written… and films that were screened in memory before they ever appeared on a screen.
❖ A Quiet Conversation
As the staff prepared the hall, Luca approached Hange softly.
"May we speak in private, now?"
She lifted her brows in mild surprise but followed him without question. They walked down a side corridor, away from the noise, where faint light slipped through tall windows.
He stopped, withdrew a carefully folded paper from his pocket, and said:
"I received a letter this morning… from Willy Tybur."
Hange looked at him sharply, curiosity and caution tightening her features.
"What does he want?"
"He wants to meet Sarah. Tonight. Alone."
A short silence passed.
"Does anyone else know?"
"No. Sarah preferred to keep it between us. But I believe telling you is necessary. You are the one she trusts most… and she needs you to distract the others—especially Captain Levi."
Hange laughed softly, shaking her head.
"Good. It's nice to know someone still knows how to ask for help gently. And is there danger?"
Luca answered with quiet certainty:
"No one dares approach these palace walls. Not even Willy himself. But politics never means safety—you know that better than anyone."
She nodded, a calm smile on her lips.
"I'll keep them busy, don't worry… but tell Sarah not to be too kind. Tybur knows very well how to hide the dagger behind the rose."
Luca smiled, a sincere glint in his eyes.
"That is why I chose you, Hange."
As they walked back toward the cinema hall, Luca said gently:
"There is one thing I admire about you, Hange… wherever you enter, the place becomes less frightening, and more alive."
Hange paused for a moment, then laughed softly, adjusting her glasses.
"Oh… that's an unusually kind thing for a politician to say! Is this one of your methods for winning the support of scientists?"
Then she glanced at him from the corner of her eye, her smile playful yet tender.
"But… I'll keep that sentence. For the days of war when I feel I no longer light anything."
Luca smiled without looking directly at her, as though something had touched his heart.
"Then I will remind you of it again."
❖ The Cinema Hall — Where Shadows Dance and Feelings Whisper
They all sat in awe upon the velvet seats, gazing at the grand screen as though it were a magical window into another world.
The film told the story of two lovers separated by war—of waiting, and of a letter that arrived only after it was too late.
Sasha wiped her eyes with a tissue.
Layla bit her lower lip, stifling a gasp.
Mikasa stared at the final scene, where the beloved dies at the borders of his homeland, unmoving.
Even Eren blinked slowly, as though a distant memory had risen to the surface.
Jean muttered bitterly, "Damn war," catching the sorrow in Layla's eyes.
Only Sarah sat in a side corner, apart from them all.
Not because she felt nothing… but because she felt too much.
Her body was here, yet her mind was walking toward the sunset… toward her meeting with Tybur.
Levi noticed her absence beside him.
He was used to her being close, speaking, whispering a dry remark…
but today, she was like a fading shadow.
He said nothing. He simply rose quietly, walked to her, and sat beside her without looking at her.
Heavy moments passed between them… the light from the screen reflecting her troubled expression.
At last, he spoke in his low voice, as though it were the only word he knew:
"What's wrong?"
Sarah hesitated.
She blinked quickly, chasing the tears before they could betray her, then whispered:
"The film… touched my heart."
She lied. And yet… she did not.
She meant something deeper—the sunset meeting, Tybur's words, the decision from which there was no return.
Levi looked into her eyes, then at the tear that escaped despite her, like a betrayal from the heart itself.
Gently…
he lifted his hand and brushed it from her cheek with his fingertips.
Then said, without turning away:
"I don't like films… because they do this to you."
She did not answer. She merely closed her eyes for a brief moment, as if thanking him without words.
And in the darkness of the cinema, beneath the great story unfolding on the screen, that light touch…
was more honest than all dialogue.
Scene: Sarah Leaves the Palace
As sunset drew near, the light of the sun faded behind the ancient palace windows while Sarah studied her reflection in the mirror.
She wore an olive blouse with softly puffed sleeves, dark embroidery tracing her chest, and elegant trousers in warm brown, cinched at the waist with a leather belt. She wore no excess adornment—yet a small golden butterfly in her short hair lent her a silent symbolism… a symbol of the peace she sought, and of the gentle strength she had chosen as her weapon.
That butterfly seemed to whisper in her ear:
Be calm… and be steady.
Outside, the palace was alive with laughter and conversations about the cinema. Sarah excused herself, saying she was tired and heading to her room to rest. They let her go without suspicion.
But in truth… she was moving quietly toward the back garden.
Luca was waiting for her, his face troubled despite his effort to hide his worry. With the same hand that had written countless speeches against Tybur, he placed the car keys in her palm, then held her gaze for a long moment.
In a low voice, he said:
"It still troubles me, Sarah… I cannot help but see you going alone as a risk."
She answered calmly:
"I know… but some confrontations do not need witnesses. They need courage."
He opened the back door of the palace for her, then stepped aside. In that moment, he understood there was no point in arguing.
Sarah got into the car alone, while Luca remained in the shadows… watching a golden butterfly disappear into the falling sun.
A Spark of Unease – Inside the Palace
Evening settled heavily over the palace. Everyone gathered around the dinner table—yet the chair beside Hange remained empty. Sarah's absence was unmistakable, and the silence that followed was not peace… but a stillness waiting to shatter.
Jean glanced at the empty seat, then raised an eyebrow, masking concern with lightness:
"Strange… didn't Sarah say she'd have dinner with us?"
Luca's eyes flicked toward Jean, then back to the table. With careful restraint, he said:
"Perhaps she wasn't in the mood… she's been exhausted since morning."
But the voice that cut through the table came from across the room—low as a blade, sharp as an unforgiving gaze.
"She is not the kind to avoid the table without a reason."
It was Levi. He had pushed his spoon aside and was staring directly at Luca.
"Tell the truth, Luca. Where is she?"
Luca coughed lightly, trying to remain composed, but Levi's tone alone was enough to draw sweat to his brow.
Hange intervened quickly, attempting to defuse the rising tension:
"Levi, please… Sarah just wanted some time—"
"Some time?" he cut in, his voice sharpening. "Do you take me for a child distracted by vague words?"
Silence fell.
All eyes turned toward Levi as he suddenly stood. He looked at each of them in turn, then turned away without another word and left the hall.
The sound of his determined steps climbing the stairs echoed like war drums.
He stopped before Sarah's door and knocked once. No answer.
He pushed the door open.
The room… empty.
The bed neatly made. Curtains stirring gently in the cold night breeze.
The window was open.
There was no trace of her.
He returned to the hall as if swallowing fire. His steps were heavy, his eyes burning.
"She is not here." His voice was slow, his face as hard as steel.
Hange lowered her head, as though bracing herself for the storm.
"You knew," he said, fixing her with his stare. Then he turned to Luca, anger tightly leashed:
"Both of you conspired to hide it from me."
Hange was about to speak, but Luca stepped forward, firm and unyielding:
"She asked for it. Sarah wanted to go alone, and no one could stop her."
"And where?!" Levi's voice thundered.
"To Willy Tybur," Luca said, as though dropping a bomb.
Gasps filled the room. Mikasa straightened. Jean froze where he stood.
"She went to him… alone?" Levi said slowly, as if the words were choking him.
"Yes. She received a secret letter from him this morning. She spoke with me and Hange. We didn't want to alarm anyone, but she insisted. She said she knew what she was doing… and that she had to go alone."
"That is madness," Levi muttered, stepping back.
"You don't understand her… she is not fine. Sarah—no matter how strong she is—is not alone today."
Layla spoke softly from her seat:
"Willy won't hurt her."
Levi turned to her with burning cold:
"Who said harm comes only with weapons?"
A Confession at the Edge of Silence
Layla approached Levi as he stood by the balcony, staring at the city lights as though searching for the shadow of a woman he knew was no longer there.
She said quietly:
"Please… don't do anything reckless. You're in Marley now, not on your own land."
He did not turn. He remained silent for a moment, then pressed his lips together and said bitterly:
"And why must Sarah be the reckless one?"
Layla fell silent. She had no answer, but her eyes betrayed something—something Levi nearly caught in their tremor.
He turned toward her slowly, looking at her as a drowning man looks at one who knows the truth:
"Do you know what truly frightens me?… It isn't a bullet. It is that she went to a man… who loves her."
Layla faltered, lowering her gaze in quiet embarrassment.
He continued, his voice filled with a beautiful fracture:
"And she… leaves behind the heart of a soldier, trapped in a great cage… a heart that does not know how to scream—yet… loves her."
Layla dared not reply.
For sometimes… silence is the last form of respect for a love that cannot be spoken.
If Levi had said just one word… would Sarah have stayed?
Yes — one word could have changed everything.
No — her path was already chosen.