Chapter 232: Meeting (5)
Liliana perked up. "Oh! There’s a place near the square. My uncle used to bring me, it’s cozy and not too crowded."
"Sold." Nathan hooked an arm around Adrian’s shoulder before the boy could argue and steered him down the road.
Merlin followed with Elara beside him, the two trailing a little behind the others. Her stride was graceful as always, though more relaxed than earlier, like the tension she wore around the others had eased with the setting sun.
"...You’re quiet," she said, her voice just audible over the chatter of their friends ahead.
"I’m always quiet," Merlin replied.
"Not like this."
He glanced at her. "Observant."
Her lips curved faintly. "Always."
They didn’t speak further, but the silence wasn’t heavy. It was... companionable. The kind of quiet Merlin hadn’t realized he missed until now.
The tavern Liliana had promised turned out to be tucked between a bakery and a tailor’s shop, its sign carved into the shape of a wolf howling at the moon.
Inside, warm light pooled across wooden floors and walls lined with old shields and weapons, their edges dulled with time.
The air smelled of roasted herbs and spiced wine, and the hum of other patrons filled the space without drowning it.
They claimed a round table in the back, the benches creaking beneath their weight.
Nathan slammed his hands down with a grin. "Alright, bring me whatever animal you’ve got back there, whole if possible!"
Adrian raised his hand. "Two of those."
The waitress gave them both a look that could cut stone, then turned to the rest.
"Bread and stew, please," Liliana said politely.
Seraphina folded her arms. "Same."
Dorian just grunted.
Ethan, already slouching, waved lazily. "Whatever’s fastest."
Elara ordered a simple plate of fish. Then all eyes turned to Merlin.
He hesitated only a second. "...Stew as well."
When the food came, it arrived in waves, steaming bowls of broth, roasted meat stacked high, baskets of bread that disappeared almost instantly once Nathan and Adrian got their hands on them.
Conversation sparked and flowed, laughter spilling louder as mugs clinked together.
"Remember when Nathan tried to fight that practice dummy?" Liliana said, cheeks flushed from the warmth. "And it won?"
Nathan nearly choked on his meat. "That thing was enchanted!"
"It was stuffed with straw," Seraphina deadpanned.
Merlin actually found himself chuckling, the sound foreign to his own ears.
"You laugh like it’s a crime," Elara murmured beside him, her voice low enough for only him to hear.
He smirked faintly. "...Feels like one."
"Then commit it more often."
He turned to her, caught off guard, but her eyes were already back on her plate, as though she hadn’t said anything at all.
The table rocked with another round of laughter as Adrian and Nathan argued over who could win in a rematch against a dummy, Ethan muttering that he’d pay coin to see them both lose again.
Merlin leaned back slightly, letting the noise wash over him. For once, he wasn’t standing apart. Not entirely.
Halfway through the meal, Seraphina tilted her head, her tone softer than usual. "What about you, Everhart?"
Merlin blinked. "What about me?"
"After this year ends. When the break’s over, and second year begins... what do you want out of it?"
The table quieted. Even Nathan stopped mid-bite, glancing over with curious eyes.
Merlin set his spoon down, fingers lingering against the wood. His first instinct was to deflect, to say something sharp, evasive. But the silence, the expectant weight of his friends’ stares, pressed harder.
"...To still be here," he said finally. "That’ll be enough."
A hush followed. Not the uncomfortable kind. The thoughtful kind.
Then Nathan grinned, clapping him on the shoulder so hard the bench rattled. "You’ll be here. No one’s getting rid of you, Everhart."
"Not even the dummies," Adrian added with a smirk.
Laughter bubbled again, the heaviness breaking.
Merlin glanced sideways. Elara’s violet eyes were on him, unreadable, but warmer than before. She didn’t speak, but the curve of her lips was enough.
The night stretched late, bowls emptying, mugs drained. When at last they spilled back into the streets, the moon was high, the air crisp. Lanterns burned low, painting the city in pools of gold and shadow.
The group lingered at a crossroads, the hour urging them back toward their dorms.
"That was a good day," Liliana said softly, almost to herself.
"It’s not over," Nathan declared. "Tomorrow we—"
"Tomorrow," Seraphina cut in, sharp but tired.
The group split, drifting off down separate streets. Merlin and Elara walked together, Victoria long since home at their apartment, waiting.
For a while, neither spoke. Their footsteps echoed soft against the stones.
Then Elara’s voice, quiet. "...When you said that, earlier. That being here is enough."
Merlin glanced at her. "...Yeah?"
She looked straight ahead, but her ears twitched slightly, betraying what her calm tone tried to hide. "It’s enough for me too."
The words sank deeper than he expected. He didn’t reply, not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t trust his voice.
So they walked on in silence, the moonlight following them home.
—
The following morning Merlin stood leaning against one of the stone pillars, arms folded loosely. His golden eyes tracked the slow drift of a cloud overhead.
He hadn’t slept much, he rarely did, but he felt lighter all the same, like some invisible weight had shifted off him.
The sound of footsteps reached him before the figure appeared. Light, sure, measured.
Elara.
She came around the arch, dressed in her usual academy uniform, though the morning light turned her silver hair almost white-gold at the edges. When her gaze found him, her stride didn’t falter, though her brows lifted slightly.
"You’re awake early," she said.
"You’re awake early," Merlin returned.
Her lips curved faintly. "I asked first."
He tilted his head, pretending to think. "...Maybe I was waiting for someone."
The words slipped out smoother than he expected. A risk. He almost regretted them, until he saw the smallest flicker in her expression, the way her ears twitched before she mastered her face again.
"...You?" she asked, voice steady but lower than usual.
He allowed a half-smirk. "Do you see anyone else standing here?"
For the first time in what felt like ages, Elara actually looked away first. Her gaze slipped toward the fountain, violet eyes unreadable. The faintest flush colored her cheeks, gone almost as quickly as it came.
"...You’re reckless with your words," she murmured.
Merlin shrugged. "You say that like it’s new."
That earned him a glance, sharp but not cutting. Almost playful.
The silence stretched, not uncomfortable, just... taut. The morning air seemed thicker for it, charged in a way that reminded Merlin of the moments before a storm.
Elara shifted first, drawing in a quiet breath. "The others are likely still asleep."
"Mm. Cowards."
Her lips twitched at that. "And what would you call yourself?"
"Different," Merlin said easily. "Stronger. Handsome. Modest."
She let out a soft, incredulous breath, a sound halfway to laughter, though she smothered it quickly. "...You’re insufferable."
"And yet here you are," Merlin replied smoothly, his eyes locking with hers.
For a heartbeat, the world around them seemed to fade, the rustle of ivy, the distant clang of kitchen pans, even the warmth of the sun.
There was only her violet gaze, steady and unyielding, meeting his like a challenge neither wanted to break.
Then Elara turned, her silver hair catching the light as she walked toward the fountain. "You’re fortunate I tolerate you."
Merlin pushed off the pillar, following at her side. "Fortunate? You mean blessed."
This time, she didn’t fight the small laugh that slipped past her lips. It was quiet, controlled, but it was there, and it was real.
They sat by the fountain’s edge, the spray scattering droplets across their shoulders. For a while, they simply watched the rippling water, letting the calm settle between them.
Finally, Elara spoke, her voice softer than before. "...You’ve changed, Merlin."
He raised an eyebrow. "For better or worse?"
Her gaze lingered on him, long enough that he almost shifted under it. "...For real."
The words sank deeper than he expected. He didn’t reply, he couldn’t. Not without breaking the fragile truth hanging between them.
So instead, he let the silence hold.
And Elara, for once, didn’t seem to mind.
The fountain’s ripples still whispered against the stone when the sound of hurried footsteps broke the quiet.
"Merlin! Elara!"
Both of them turned as Nathan came barreling across the courtyard, nearly tripping over his own boots in his rush. His brown hair was a mess, his grin wide enough to split his face. Adrian followed behind at a more measured pace, hands stuffed in his pockets, his expression easygoing as ever.
"I knew it," Nathan panted, pointing accusingly. "I told the others you’d be hiding off somewhere! Elara, dragging him away again?"
Elara raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Dragging implies unwillingness."
Merlin smirked. "She’s not wrong."
Nathan groaned dramatically, throwing his arms up. "See? He’s already corrupted! One day it’s casual strolls, the next he’s completely unreachable!"
Adrian snorted, clapping Nathan on the back as he reached them. "Or maybe you’re just jealous no one drags you anywhere."
"Excuse me? I’m perfectly drag-worthy!"
Before Merlin could comment, more voices joined the fray. Liliana’s cheerful laughter rang out as she approached with Seraphina, the two of them in mid-conversation.
Ethan trailed a few steps behind, looking as disinterested as ever, though even he spared Merlin a faint nod of acknowledgment.
Then came Dorian, silent as a shadow, his crimson eyes landing on Merlin briefly before sliding away again.