I’ve never liked complete silence.

I prefer the sound of bullets cutting through the air or the distant rumble of a storm over a room steeped in absolute muteness. Because in silence, thoughts make far too much noise.

Right now, my only company was a desk lamp, a couple of ink-stained sheets of paper, and the slightly blurred photographs of one of the tunnels we had traced. The confiscated crates, the illegal seals, the markings…
Everything was speaking. I just hadn’t figured out yet what it was trying to tell me.

“The handwriting is shaky,”
I murmured to myself, dragging a finger across one of the labels.
“Nerves? Or haste?”

I tilted my head a little further, narrowing my eyes. That was when I felt it.

A subtle shift in the air.
A shadow.

My senses tensed immediately—but not enough to react in time.

Two soft arms wrapped around my neck from behind, crossing over my collarbone with an almost taunting slowness.

“Good morning, detective~ or should I say, Champion Duelist?~ Hmm, nah, that’s way too long for my taste~”
a voice whispered far too close to my ear.

I held my breath on reflex. It was Navia.

“What are you—”
I tried to say, but her proximity stole the rest of the sentence.

“Look how focused you are. You didn’t even notice me come in.”

She added it with a smile in her voice. A mischievous one. Playful.

I shifted away slightly—not abruptly, but just enough to keep her from feeling how shaken she’d made me. Even so, I knew the faint blush creeping up my cheeks betrayed me. Again.

Navia moved around calmly, taking a spot beside me and leaning shamelessly against the desk.

“Secret documents again? I brought more for your collection,”
she said, lifting the papers in her hand.

I didn’t answer right away. I was too busy breathing under control.

“That kind of entrance isn’t appropriate for a workplace,”
I finally managed.

“Oh? And what kind of entrances are appropriate with you, Clorinde?”

I glanced at her from the corner of my eye.
Mistake.

Navia had that expression.

The same one she’d worn when she slipped and landed on top of me in Neuvillette’s office. But this time there was no fall. No rebellious umbrella. This time, it was deliberate.

“You look cute when you’re uncomfortable,”
she added, never breaking eye contact.

“And you look… reckless… when you make comments like that in the middle of a delicate operation,”
I replied.

“Delicate? Please. You’ve been staring at the same three photos for hours. You need a break,”
she said, waving a hand dismissively.

“I don’t have time for breaks,”
I shot back, reaching for one of the documents she’d brought.

But my fingers brushed hers by accident.
A spark. Not real—but it felt like one.
She didn’t pull her hand away right away either.

“Clorinde…”
she said, her voice lower this time.
“Do you always take everything so seriously?”

“When explosives are involved, yes.”

She laughed softly. A light, chiming laugh, free of malice. But her eyes… those golden eyes held something else.

“I’m just trying to make this more bearable. You don’t have to be a statue all the time.”

I looked up at her.

“I’m not a statue.”

“Oh? Then why do you turn red every time I touch you?”

She said it with a small smile. My silence was answer enough.

Navia smiled with clear victory and finally stepped back, spinning on her heel with her usual ease.

“Anyway~ I’ll leave the documents with you. They’re about movements at the west port. Something’s off with the wine shipments… might be a front.”

I nodded, still saying nothing. She headed for the door, but just before leaving, she stopped at the threshold and turned back one last time.

“By the way, I like you better with that color on your cheeks.”
She winked.

“See you later, ‘detective.’”

And she was gone.

She closed the door with a softness that hurt more than a slam.

I brought a hand to my chest—not to calm my heartbeat… but to make sure it was still there.

I took a deep breath. Looked back at the photos.

“…I need another coffee.”

And maybe… thicker armor.
Because Navia wasn’t just playing anymore.

She was winning.