The Missed Night

Sasha's brow lifted, disbelief flickering across her face like a tremor she couldn't quite suppress. "Entire party… over already?" Her voice was small, fragile, uncertain—like a candle's flame struggling against a sudden gust. She turned instinctively toward Victor, eyes searching his for reassurance, for an anchor in the sudden confusion.

Victor blinked, his composure momentarily cracking. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no sound came out—only a quiet exhale that fogged in the cool night air. Then, with a faint shake of his head, he met her gaze, the unspoken understanding between them enough to draw a rueful sigh from both.

The moonlight caught his eyes, those calm, steady pools of violet that now shimmered with quiet realization. Julia, standing a few steps away, merely inclined her head, saying nothing—her presence a sharp reminder of reality cutting through the fragile warmth that had wrapped around the two moments ago.

For a breath, Victor and Sasha simply stared at each other. The weight of the silence pressed between them, and it dawned on both, almost in unison—the truth. Between their tender confessions and the fragile rebuilding of their broken bond, they had let time slip away. The evening's grand event, the one they were both meant to attend, had passed them by entirely.

Victor's lips parted, the corner of his mouth twitching into a faint, helpless smile. "We really did, didn't we?" he murmured under his breath.

Sasha let out a small, breathless laugh that died halfway through. She raised a hand to her forehead, shaking her head lightly in disbelief. "I can't believe we… missed the entire thing." The faintest smile ghosted across her lips, though it carried embarrassment more than humor.

He gave a soft hum of acknowledgment, still watching her. It wasn't anger that filled his chest—it was something gentler. The realization that, despite the consequences, he didn't regret a single moment of what they'd shared under that moon.

But Sasha—ever the daughter of her house—straightened her posture, exhaling a long, steadying breath. "Victor," she said finally, her voice calm again, tempered with duty. "I'm sorry. But I need to go."

He shook his head immediately, that faint, easy smile still on his lips. "It's fine," he said softly. "Go. Your father's waiting."

Her eyes softened for a heartbeat, the warmth returning for just a flicker before she turned away. "Thank you," she whispered, almost too quietly to be heard.

Then she looked toward Julia, regaining the poise that years of noble upbringing had trained into her. "Julia," she said, her tone composed once more, "let's go. Lead me to Father."

Julia, ever the picture of grace, bowed slightly in acknowledgment. "As you wish, my lady." Then, turning her dark gaze to Victor, she added evenly, "Prince Victor, please accompany us as well. Lord Suncrest wishes to meet you."

Victor blinked, caught off guard by the request. "Me?" he asked, his voice breaking slightly in surprise.

Julia nodded, her expression polite but unwavering. "Yes. Lord Suncrest instructed that if I happened to find you with Lady Sasha, I was to bring you along."

For a heartbeat, Victor simply stared at her, a touch of confusion flashing in his eyes. Then Julia added, almost as an afterthought—but with a weight that froze him mid-breath—"By the way, Princess Ania is also with Lord Suncrest."

Victor's head snapped up. "What did you say?" His tone was sharp now, the faint trace of calm cracking away. "Ania is with Lord Suncrest?"

Julia's expression didn't falter. "Yes, my lord. She arrived earlier this evening and has been with him since. I believe they are awaiting your presence."

Victor felt his chest tighten. He looked to Sasha, who had gone silent through the exchange, her golden eyes flicking between the two of them, trying to make sense of the shift in his tone. There was a question in her gaze—a quiet one—but she didn't voice it.

He took a slow, deliberate breath, steadying himself. "Alright," he said finally, his voice calm again though something restless churned beneath the surface. "Let's go, then."

Julia inclined her head once more, her composure unshaken. "This way, please."

She turned gracefully, her robe brushing softly against the stone path as she began to walk. The sound of her steps—measured, elegant—echoed faintly in the quiet garden.

Victor lingered for a moment longer, glancing once at the moonlit bench they'd shared not long ago. The memory of Sasha's laughter, the warmth of her confession, still lingered there like a phantom. Then he turned toward her, his gaze softening again.

"Ready?" he asked gently.

Sasha met his eyes, the corners of her mouth curving in a small, composed smile. "Yes."

And so, side by side, they followed Julia through the winding garden paths. The night was still, the air cool and heavy with the scent of flowers. The moonlight fell through the branches in fractured patches, painting silver on their skin as they walked.

Neither spoke. The silence between them was no longer awkward or heavy—it was thoughtful, pulsing with all the things left unsaid. Victor's mind raced quietly, thoughts flickering between Violet's teasing voice in his head, the weight of what waited ahead, and the faint warmth still lingering from Sasha's embrace.

Sasha, beside him, kept her head slightly bowed, the composure of a noblewoman masking the quiet storm of emotion beneath. She replayed the evening in her mind—the confessions, the laughter, the touch of his hand—and for the first time in years, she didn't know what tomorrow might bring.

Julia led them out of the garden, her movements fluid, precise. The great doors of the estate loomed ahead, framed by tall lanterns casting golden light against the night. As the trio approached, the murmur of distant voices began to reach them—faint, indistinct, but unmistakably that of the Suncrest household, still alive despite the hour.

Victor's expression hardened slightly, his composure settling back into place like armor. Whatever waited beyond those doors—Lord Suncrest's questions, Ania's presence, the consequences of their missed duties—he would face it.

Sasha stole one last glance at him, and he caught it, offering a faint, reassuring smile. The kind that said I'm here. The kind that made her chest tighten in quiet, irrational relief.

And together, with the moon at their backs and the weight of the night ahead, they followed Julia through the gates—toward the man who had summoned them both.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.