An almost unnatural silence filled the guest hall.

Meira slowly sipped her tea, holding the cup with both hands as if trying to warm herself not with the drink, but with her own thoughts. Steam lazily curled upward and dissolved into the air.

Celia stood nearby, carefully slicing the cake. The blade moved through the sponge evenly and quietly — not a single unnecessary motion, not a single mistake.

“Tell me…” Meira was the first to break the silence. “Why Istar?”

Celia did not answer immediately. She continued cutting the cake as though the question did not concern her.

Several seconds passed.

“Why does it trouble you so much?” she asked calmly, without looking at Meira.

“Because I know you. We studied together.” Meira set her cup down on the table. “I don’t understand why you serve him when you have such talent. Did you really give up on your dream?”

Celia slowly turned around. A slice of cake rested in her hands. She placed it in front of Meira.

“My dream is to stay by Istar’s side,” she said evenly. “That is the only dream I have.”

Their conversation sounded like that of two old friends reunited. But there was far more between the lines than it seemed.

Meira was about to add something when the door opened.

“Oh, I see everything’s ready. Thank you, Celia,” Istar said with a light smile.

He sat down on the sofa and gestured for Celia to sit beside him. They positioned themselves opposite Meira.

“How are you finding it here?” he asked casually. “By the way, Celia made the cake. She’s an incredible cook.”

“Oh no, sir… it’s nothing special,” Celia replied modestly.

“Come now,” Istar smiled. “Speak freely. Meira isn’t a stranger. I trust her. Don’t I?”

He looked directly at Meira.

She remained silent. Her gaze moved between the two of them.

Suddenly, Celia took Istar’s hand.

“I missed you,” she said softly. “And I’m very angry. I feel like breaking your arm. Why are you escorting other girls around?”

Her voice carried jealousy. Her behavior shifted — as if until now she had merely been playing a role.

“I don’t think you need to worry,” Istar smiled, even as Celia squeezed his hand as though she truly could break it. “Meira knows perfectly well how I feel about her.”

Meira nearly choked on her tea.

“Kh—what…?” She coughed, staring at them in confusion. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Celia slowly turned her gaze toward her. There was something in her eyes that resembled a challenge.

“What exactly is unclear to you?”

Istar sighed, as if explaining something obvious.

“If you’re talking about my dear Celia and me…” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Yes. She is my joy and my world.”

Meira froze.

Celia… and Istar… together?

It had already seemed strange that Celia served him. But this?

What the hell is going on?..

Her thoughts tangled.

Is this a joke? A provocation? A game?

Or… the truth?

Istar looked at her calmly, almost curiously.

As if he weren’t waiting for an answer.

But for a reaction.

“Fine, whatever is going on between you…” Meira exhaled sharply. “Actually, no. What is this?! I can’t even find the words… Are you serious?!”

Her emotions surged, overflowing, leaving almost no room for calm explanation.

“He’s not some lost cause…” she continued, her voice barely holding steady. “He’s a complete egoist. No brakes and an excess of pride.”

“Any downsides?” Istar tried to joke, ignoring her words.

“You don’t know him well,” Celia said calmly, still not letting go of his hand. “Don’t judge so quickly.”

“Are you kidding me?” Meira raised her eyebrows angrily. “He broke a man’s fingers just because he wouldn’t share his cookies!”

“I don’t tolerate hunger. And he refused to share,” Istar replied lightly, as if speaking of something trivial. “Besides, I didn’t kill him.”

“The very fingers he used to touch the cookies!” Meira did not restrain her outrage. “It was horrible!”

“Enough about Istar and me,” Celia cut in. “We’ll have time to discuss that.”

“Sure,” Meira muttered shortly.

“Let’s talk about the boy. That’s why you’re here. Kagrim’s request concerns helping the young man, doesn’t it?”

Meira nodded silently.

“Do you remember Laen, Istar’s younger brother?” Celia asked.

“Yes… I remember. He was always strange. Looking past people instead of at them. But what does Laen have to do with this?”

“They’re similar,” Istar said quietly, not taking his eyes off his cup.

“Similar how? The same problems with their heads?” Meira asked with irony.

“Oh, you’re exhausting,” Istar covered his face with his hand, suppressing a smile.

“Don’t compare me to yourself,” she replied coldly.

“They have the same abilities,” Celia intervened. “The boy is just like Laen. They are called Tenaru.”

Meira shook her head.

“That tells me nothing. Who are the Tenaru?”

“They see the dark world… the souls of the dead,” Celia explained quietly.

Meira fell silent. Now everything began to align. Kairen’s strange behavior started to make sense.

The old man played me…

“Did you know that by protocol I’m supposed to deliver him to the Conclave?” she lifted her gaze to Istar. “What else are you hiding?”

“What reason would I have to hide anything?” Istar smiled almost imperceptibly.

“Don’t play with me. I value our friendship, but I won’t tolerate lies. Not even from you.”

“We want to help the boy,” Istar said calmly.

“His name is Kairen,” Meira interrupted.

“Yes. Kairen,” Celia nodded. “We cannot allow the servants of Alziriient to learn about him.”

“That’s why Kagrim came to me,” Istar added. “My brother has the same abilities. So the choice is yours: trust me or not.”

Meira grew quiet.

Why should she care about some unfamiliar boy?

Kairen…

Her father always said: Help the weak, even if they don’t ask for it.

She sighed softly.

“I promised Kagrim I would look after Kairen. And I’ll trust you only because we’re friends. But that doesn’t mean I trust you completely. I feel like you’re hiding something.”

“As you wish,” Istar replied easily. “You may visit the boy… Kairen.”

He corrected himself almost imperceptibly.

Suddenly, a short notification sound rang out.

Ding.

Istar glanced at his phone. His expression turned serious for a brief moment.

“Excuse me. I won’t be long.”

He left, leaving behind a tense silence.

“Are you sure he’ll help Kairen?” Meira asked quietly.

Celia looked at the door through which Istar had disappeared.

“You truly don’t know him well. He won’t abandon the boy.”

Her voice was warm. Almost gentle.

Meira exhaled deeply.

“All right…”

But the unease inside her did not fade.

“I should go,” she said softly, rising.

“Shall I walk you out? Will you say goodbye to Kairen?”

“No… I’ll come again. Soon.”

“Shall I pass something along?”

“To Kairen?” Meira hesitated for a moment. “Tell him I’ll come soon.”

“All right.”

Celia walked her to the exit.

By the door, Meira paused. As if she wanted to add something — but found no words.

“You’re always welcome here, Meira,” Celia said calmly.

Meira nodded silently and left.

When her footsteps faded, Istar appeared behind Celia.

“So? What do you think? Can she be trusted?”

Celia did not answer immediately.

“I think it’s too early to reveal all the cards. She isn’t ready yet.”

“And will she be?”

For the first time, a trace of genuine seriousness sounded in Istar’s voice.

Celia gave a faint smile.

“If not — she won’t return.

If so — she’ll make the right choice.”

Istar silently shifted his gaze to the window.

“Tenaru… Who would’ve thought another would appear? An incredible coincidence.”

His eyes darkened.

“Or perhaps not a coincidence at all…”