The corridors of the dwarven castle were quieter now, the echo of footsteps muted by the weight of the mountain above. Noel and Elena walked side by side, neither in a hurry. For the first time in days, there was no shouting crowd, no clash of steel, no pressure of survival. Only the soft hum of mana lamps lighting their path.

Elena's voice broke the silence, calm and reflective. "The Hunt Festival is coming soon."

Noel glanced at her, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. "It's true but before that our date."

She nodded. "That's true too. Regarding the festival, when my grandmother was matriarch, it was different. Winning wasn't just expected—it was an obligation. I trained every year with that in mind, because if I failed, it would have been shameful for our family."

Her amber eyes lowered slightly, though her tone carried no bitterness. "But that ended when my father became patriarch. He changed everything. Now… he only tells me to do my best. Nothing more."

Noel listened quietly, his hands in his pockets, letting her words settle between them.

"That sounds better," he said finally. "Less about proving something, more about enjoying it."

Elena gave him a soft smile. "Yes. It feels lighter now. For once, I can look at the Hunt Festival as more than just a competition."

They continued walking, their steps unhurried, the closeness between them unspoken but certain. Noel found himself watching her from the corner of his eye—the way her braid swayed slightly with her movements, the calm strength in her face.

They turned a corner, the stone corridor opening into a small balcony carved into the mountain wall. The city lights of Tharvaldur glimmered faintly in the distance—bridges stretching, mana lamps glowing like stars.

Elena leaned against the railing, her braid falling over her shoulder. "We'll see my brothers again soon," she said softly. "It's been months."

Noel leaned beside her, his arms resting on the stone edge. "And my sister. Livia and Veyron… you think they've changed at all?"

Elena laughed lightly, shaking her head. "Veyron hasn't. He never does—always polite, always thoughtful. He'll probably ask you how your studies are going before he even says hello."

"That does sound like him," Noel smirked. "What do you think of my sister Livia?"

Elena's smile softened into something teasing. "She was… difficult, last time. Sharp with her words. Do you think she's changed?"

Noel snorted. "If my sister suddenly turned into a saint, I'd think the world was ending. But maybe…" He tapped the railing with a finger. "Maybe your brother's managed to tame her a little."

Elena giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. "Now that would be a miracle."

Noel chuckled along with her, his shoulders relaxing. "Still, it'll be good to see them both again. Even if I end up arguing with my sister within five minutes."

Elena tilted her head, her amber eyes warm. "I'll make sure to sit between you two at dinner."

"That won't save me," Noel said with mock despair.

They both laughed.

They left the balcony, their footsteps echoing softly as they climbed a narrow stairwell that curved toward one of the towers. The air was cooler here, touched by drafts slipping through carved vents in the stone.

Noel walked a step ahead, his hands tucked into his pockets. He glanced back at Elena with a crooked grin. "You know… with all this talk about family and weddings, maybe the next one will be ours."

Elena blinked, her cheeks instantly pink, but instead of retreating she murmured, almost too softly to hear, "Maybe… yes."

Noel stopped dead on the steps, staring at her. "Wait—what?"

Her ears flushed red, but she managed a shy smile. "My father already told me he wants many grandchildren. He didn't exactly try to hide it, well you should remember it."

For once, it was Noel who looked caught off guard. He rubbed the back of his neck, a laugh slipping out despite himself. "Your father really said that? I don't remember at all"

Elena nodded, her braid brushing her shoulder. "Mhm. He was serious too."

Noel tilted his head, the teasing edge fading into something more earnest. "Well… when all this is over, we'll have plenty of time for that."

The words slipped out before he could stop them. Elena's amber eyes widened, her blush deepening, but then she smiled—soft, genuine, the kind of smile that warmed the heavy air of the mountain.

Quietly, she stepped closer and rested her head against his shoulder as they continued climbing. "You really say things like that so casually…" she whispered.

Noel chuckled, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he let her lean against him, the weight comforting rather than heavy.

The silence that followed wasn't awkward. It was intimate—two hearts quietly beating in rhythm on the way up.

The stairwell opened into a round platform near the top of one of the towers. The city stretched beneath them—bridges of stone and steel weaving across the vast hollow of the mountain, mana lamps and torches glowing like stars against the darkness. The murmur of distant voices drifted up from the streets, students and townsfolk alike enjoying the night now that the tournament was over.

Noel and Elena stepped onto the ledge, sitting side by side with their legs dangling over the edge. For a while, they simply watched in silence.

Then Noel spotted a familiar figure below, weaving through the crowd—short red hair catching the lamplight. "Huh," he muttered. "That's Anastasia. From Luceria."

Elena lifted her head from his shoulder, blinking. "Anastasia? What about her?"

Noel hesitated, then shrugged. "She confessed to me. Before the tournament."

Elena's head snapped toward him so quickly her hair whipped over her shoulder. "WHAT!?"

Noel raised his hands defensively. "That was my reaction too!"

Her amber eyes narrowed, cheeks puffing slightly. "And what did you do?"

"I rejected her," Noel said flatly. "Clearly. What else would I do?"

Elena exhaled, her shoulders easing though her face was still red. "Good. For a moment I thought—"

"You thought wrong," Noel cut in with a small smirk. "I already have enough trouble with you, Elyra, and Charlotte. I'm not suicidal."

That finally made Elena laugh, the tension breaking. She leaned her head back against his shoulder, still smiling.

Together, they looked out at the city of Tharvaldur. Mana lights twinkled across the bridges like constellations in the stone sky. From up here, the world seemed distant, quiet, almost peaceful.

For that moment, it was just the two of them—feet dangling, shoulders touching, watching the city glow in the dark heart of the mountain.

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