Guilt gnawed at Elena as she stirred the stew over the fire. Aunt Kate stayed strangely out of her way after quietly ordering her to cook a special meal for her son, Leo. Amber must have really frightened her.
Elena didn't think much about her cousin Leo. The boy had been spoiled rotten by Kate.
Back when they were little, Leo was just two years older than her. He used to break things and blame her for it, and her aunt never hesitated to punish her instead.
She sighed and lowered the flame.
Amber—whenever she remembered her outburst that afternoon, her stomach did a strange backflip. Dante's warning echoed in her mind, refusing to fade.
A part of her knew he was right, but she couldn't bring herself to believe it.
She felt bad for shutting him down too. Deep down, she missed his constant chattering. It annoyed her but it also gave her a sense of peace.
She would apologize to Dante first thing tomorrow. Then they would both go see Amber and find a way to help her.
Yes. That was the right thing to do.
Her mood brightened until it dawned on her.
She didn't know where Dante lived.
They had talked about so many things, yet strangely, it never occurred to her how little she actually knew about him or his family.
"Elena! Is the food ready?" Kate's voice filtered into the kitchen, low and quiet.
The tone felt strange to Elena, who was used to her aunt's piercing screams.
"It's almost ready. Just give me a few minutes," she replied.
"We don't have a few minutes," Kate said, stepping into the kitchen. "I'll handle the rest. Go prepare the tavern."
"Alright then." Elena nodded and turned to leave.
She didn't miss the faint red marks on her aunt's wrist.
***
Leonard walked into his mother's tavern with a bag slung across his back. His brown hair had grown longer—now brushing his shoulders.
He took a seat at an empty table, tapping his fingers lightly. It felt good to be back home.
A raven-haired woman approached him moments later. The corner he sat in was shadowed, her face not fully visible.
"Hello. What would you like to have?" she asked.
That voice...
It was familiar.
"Elena?" he asked hesitantly.
She gasped and leaned closer.
"Leo… it's you."
She didn't sound as surprised as he was.
"I almost didn't recognize you. You've grown," she said, her tone neutral.
"Likewise. You're even more beautiful than I remember."
Elena stared at him, unsure how to respond. He and his mother had never failed to remind her how ugly she supposedly was.
Leo sighed. "Look… I know you aren't fond of me because of how I behaved back then. I was childish. I've changed. I hope we can put the past behind us and start over."
He stretched out his hand.
"Sure. No problem," Elena replied without hesitation.
She wasn't interested in the conversation.
Leo had left when he was fifteen to live with his father in Riverria—a village far from theirs. His parents couldn't stand the sight of each other. He spent five years there.
She hoped he would stay out of her way.
"Why are you just sitting there? Go upstairs. Aunt's been waiting for you," Elena said briskly.
"I have work to do."
She walked away before he could reply.
***
"What can I help you with?" Leo asked later, following her around the tavern.
He had freshened up and eaten.
"I can handle things here. Go rest," Elena said, clearing used cups.
"I insist," Leo replied. "Mum said she wasn't feeling well, so I thought I'd help."
Elena sighed. "Fine. Serve ale at the bar. I'll handle the tables."
To her surprise, Leo did a good job.
Perhaps he really had changed.
The tavern closed for the night, and Elena couldn't hide her disappointment. Dante hadn't shown up.
As she swept the floor, footsteps echoed behind her.
"Don't worry, Leo. I'll finish up—"
No reply.
She turned.
Leo stood there holding a cloak.
Dante's cloak.
A chill ran down her spine.
"Who owns this?" he asked, his voice low.
"And what were you doing in my room?" Elena countered.
"This is my house," he scoffed. "Answer me. Who owns the fucking cloak?"
"It's mine."
"Liar." His eyes darkened. "That fabric is expensive. You and I both know you couldn't afford it."
Elena chuckled bitterly.
"This belongs to a man," Leo said. "Which rich man have you been sleeping with?"
"That's none of your business."
"It is," he said, stepping closer. "Because you belong to me."
Elena backed into the wall.
"What nonsense are you spouting?"
"I love you," he said suddenly. "I always have. I acted out as a child because it was the only way to get your attention."
"This is a joke, right?" Elena laughed nervously.
"It isn't. I came back for you."
"Move," she snapped. "I have work."
"Listen to me!" He grabbed her shoulders.
"I came back to win your heart—"
"You sound insane," she cut in. "We are cousins. We are related by blood."
She shoved him away.
He grabbed her wrist.
"If I told you we aren't related… would you give me a chance?"
Elena froze.
"What do you mean?"
"We aren't cousins," he said quietly.
"Mother isn't your aunt."