Her heels clicked sharply against the stone as she turned on her heel, her movements sharp and agitated. She glanced back toward the glowing windows of the banquet hall, the laughter and joy inside only serving to annoy her further.

"Congratulations, Lyria!" she mocked under her breath, mimicking Ren’s teasing tone. "You’re going to be in a team with me! Oh, what an honor!" She groaned, running a hand through her hair. "Why does he have to be so insufferable?"

She stopped pacing, staring down at her reflection in a nearby fountain. The water rippled slightly in the breeze, distorting her image. Her cheeks were still tinged pink, and her eyes betrayed the mix of emotions she couldn’t quite name.

"Why am I even so worked up about this?" she whispered to herself. "It’s just Ren. He’s annoying, and loud, and... and..." She hesitated, her blush deepening as her mind betrayed her.

"And sometimes charming," a small voice in her head offered unhelpfully.

"No!" she said aloud, startling a pair of birds in a nearby tree. "No, he’s not charming. He’s just... annoying!"
A soft chuckle broke the silence, and Lyria froze.

"Talking to yourself now? That’s a new one," Ren’s familiar voice drawled from behind her.

She whirled around, her heart skipping a beat as she spotted him leaning casually against a tree. He was still in his banquet attire, his black suit slightly disheveled, the top button undone. He looked relaxed, almost too comfortable, as if he’d been there for a while.

"Ren!" she snapped, her voice high with surprise and anger. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugged, pushing off the tree and strolling toward her. "I could ask you the same thing. Aren’t you supposed to be inside, mingling with the nobles and basking in your aunt’s approval?"

"I needed some air," she said stiffly, crossing her arms. "And I don’t recall inviting you out here."

Ren grinned, tilting his head as he looked at her. "Oh, come on. Don’t be like that.

You’ve been out here muttering to yourself for a while now. I was just curious."

Lyria’s blush returned in full force. "I was NOT muttering to myself!"

"Really?" Ren raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Because from where I was standing, it sounded like you were practicing how to say my name in different tones. ‘Stupid Ren! Insufferable Ren!’ Very passionate, I must say."

Lyria’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, her mind scrambling for a response. Finally, she stomped her foot, glaring at him. "You’re impossible!"

Ren laughed, the sound light and genuine. "And you’re adorable when you’re mad."

Her jaw dropped, and for a moment, all she could do was stare at him. "I—what—stop saying ridiculous things!"

Ren took a step closer, his teasing smile softening just a little. "Relax, Lyria. I’m just messing with you. I figured you might need someone to talk to. You looked... upset when you stormed out."

Lyria hesitated, her anger faltering as she studied his expression. For once, he wasn’t smirking or teasing. He looked... sincere.

"I don’t want to talk about it," she said quietly, turning her gaze back to the fountain
.
Ren nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Fair enough. But if you ever do, you know where to find me."

He started to walk away, but Lyria’s voice stopped him.

"Ren," she said, her tone softer now.
He turned back, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

She hesitated, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. "Thanks. For... checking on me."

Ren smiled, his usual smugness replaced with something warmer. "Anytime, princess."

Before she could respond, he disappeared back toward the banquet hall, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Lyria let out a long sigh, staring down at her reflection in the fountain again. This time, her blush wasn’t entirely from anger.

Lyria was about to step back into the banquet hall, her mind still a whirlwind of confusion, when she felt a soft hand land on her shoulder. She froze, her heart skipping a beat, and turned to see her mother standing there, leaning lightly against a stone pillar. Her frail form looked even more delicate in the moonlight, and her pale blue eyes held a look of quiet concern.

"Mother?" Lyria’s voice softened instantly, the irritation and embarrassment of the evening slipping away the moment she saw her. "What are you doing out here? You should be resting."

Celeste gave her a faint smile, her voice soft but steady. "I couldn’t rest,after knowing you were upset. You’ve always been so strong, Lyria, but I know something’s troubling you."

Her pale hands clutched the edge of her shawl, her frailty evident in the way she moved, but she still managed to radiate a quiet grace. "You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I want to make sure you’re okay."

Lyria sighed, looking at her mother with a mixture of love and worry. "I’m fine, really," she said quickly, though the lie was clear even to her. "I just... needed some air."
Celeste didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t press. "Let’s go home, then. It’s not good for you to be out here by yourself."

Lyria nodded silently, and they both turned, walking away from the estate’s grand halls and into the quieter, more private garden.

Lyria’s thoughts were still on Ren—his teasing, his grin, the way he could drive her mad with just a few words. The more she thought about him, the more tangled her feelings became.

As they reached their house, Celeste moved slowly, her frailty apparent in every step. Lyria could see how tired her mother was, how much effort it took just to move, and it made her heart ache.

Once inside, they made their way to the sitting room, where the crackling of the fireplace offered a sense of comfort. The soft, floral scent of the house wrapped around them, the atmosphere warm and inviting, but Lyria still felt unsettled. She sat down on one of the plush chairs, watching her mother as she carefully made her way to the sofa.

"You’ve had a long night," Celeste said gently. "Why don’t you lie down for a bit? I’ll make us some tea."

Lyria, grateful for her mother’s calming presence, shook her head. Out of concern for her health "No, I’m fine. I just need to think for a moment."

Celeste smiled warmly and sat beside her, her hand resting on Lyria’s shoulder, offering a sense of stability. "Alright, but remember, my dear, you don’t have to keep everything inside. You can always talk to me."

Lyria took a deep breath, then reached for her phone to send a quick message to her Aunt Eira, letting her know she was heading home. She didn’t want to talk to her aunt tonight—not with everything swirling around in her head.

Once the message was sent, Lyria sat back, her mind still racing. Finally, after a long silence, she spoke, her voice reluctant. "Mother, there’s something I need to tell you... about Ren."

Celeste’s eyes sparkled with a knowing glint. "Ren? The one who’s been teasing you all night?"

Lyria groaned, burying her face in her hands. "I don’t know what it is about him. He makes me so angry, but I can’t stop thinking about him." Her voice was thick with frustration. "I’m so confused, Mom."

Celeste gently placed her hand on Lyria’s head, her touch comforting but firm. "Sometimes the people who get under our skin the most are the ones who affect us the most."

Lyria pulled back slightly, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "No, no, no! I don’t like him!" she insisted, shaking her head vigorously. "He’s just... infuriating. And annoying. I can’t stand him!"

Her mother’s smile softened, but she didn’t push. "You don’t have to like him, Lyria. But the way you’re reacting to him, it seems like there’s more there than you’re willing to admit."

"I’m not admitting anything!" Lyria said quickly, sitting up straighter. "He’s just... he’s always making fun of me, always teasing me, and I can’t stand it! It’s... it’s frustrating!" She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, as if to physically block the thoughts swirling inside her.

Celeste’s expression remained calm, though her eyes held a hint of amusement. "I see. You don’t like him, then?"

Lyria’s face turned an even deeper shade of red. "Of course I don’t! He’s a total idiot!" she snapped, though her voice wavered slightly, betraying the uncertainty she was trying so hard to hide. "I don’t need him or anyone else in my life, okay? I’m fine on my own and you."

Her mother’s smile softened even more, and she leaned in, her frail hand resting gently on Lyria’s. "Lyria, you don’t have to do everything on your own. Love isn’t something you can control. It can sneak up on you when you least expect it."

Lyria groaned, sinking back into the chair with her arms crossed tightly. "I’m not falling in love with him, okay? I don’t care how much he annoys me or how much I can’t get him out of my head. He’s not the one. I’m not interested."

Celeste chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from Lyria’s face. "You’re denying it, my dear. But love has a funny way of making us see things differently. And it doesn’t always happen the way we want it to."

"I’m not interested!" Lyria insisted, her voice rising a little in frustration. "He’s just... he’s an idiot! He doesn’t get me, and I don’t get him. End of story."

Her mother’s eyes softened, her voice gentle but full of wisdom. "Love isn’t about understanding everything right away. Sometimes, it’s just about accepting that you feel something you don’t understand yet."

Lyria turned her head away, unable to meet her mother’s eyes. "I don’t want to feel anything for him," she muttered under her breath, her cheeks burning.

Celeste didn’t say anything for a moment, simply resting her hand on Lyria’s. She knew her daughter well enough to understand that Lyria wasn’t ready to face what was going on in her heart. But that was okay. "You don’t have to figure it all out right now, sweetheart. Just take it one step at a time. Love doesn’t have to make sense all at once."

Lyria’s heart still felt a little tangled, but there was something about her mother’s calm, patient presence that made her feel like she could breathe again. Maybe she didn’t have to figure it out tonight. Maybe, just maybe, her feelings could wait.

"Thanks, Mom," Lyria whispered, finally letting her head fall onto her mother’s lap, her mind still spinning, but at least feeling a little more at peace. "I’ll try to figure it out... later."

Celeste smiled down at her daughter, brushing her hair gently. "Take your time, darling. You don’t have to rush anything. You have all the time in the world."

And with that, Lyria let the soothing comfort of her mother’s presence calm her thoughts. For now, that was enough.
How would you like to proceed from here?