Chapter192 – You’re really leaving?
Clarissa stepped out of the bathroom, the soft fabric of her bathrobe clinging lightly to her damp skin. As she toweled her hair dry, her eyes landed on Phoenix standing near the window, carefully wiping down her saber.
Clarissa walked over. “Phoenix, why aren’t you resting?”
Phoenix didn’t look at her. Her fingers moved with practiced reverence over the blade’s worn edge. “It’s just a scratch,” she said, her voice low. “Nothing worth resting over.”
She ran her cloth gently along the steel.
“This sword’s been with me for twelve years,” she murmured. “It was my grandfather’s gift—my first saber. It’s never lost a single duel. Not once.”
But tonight, it bore rough, uneven notches along the edge—jagged reminders of her defeat.
“I lost,” she said quietly. “And I damaged it.”
Phoenix’s voice cracked slightly. “In just six years… he surpassed me.”
She gave a bitter laugh. “Clarissa, I’m still so damn far behind.”
Clarissa’s chest tightened. Without warning, she reached out and snatched the saber from Phoenix’s hands.
Phoenix blinked, stunned. Gentle Clarissa, always calm, rarely impulsive, had just taken the blade from her like a mother scolding a child.
Clarissa gently placed the sword on the high shelf, out of reach. Then she turned, took Phoenix’s hand, and said firmly, “You’re still injured. Enough for tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll go find someone to repair it—together. But right now, you need to rest.”
Phoenix stared at her, then gave a soft smile. “Alright... but only if you stay here with me. Sleep in my bed.”
Clarissa didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”
The two of them lay side by side in bed, silence settling over the room like a blanket. Clarissa watched Phoenix’s profile, her expression thoughtful.
The saber wasn’t the real concern. What worried her was Phoenix’s spirit. Despite all her strength, Phoenix was fragile underneath. And Clarissa knew that better than anyone.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” Phoenix asked quietly, eyes still closed.
“I just… I know you carry a lot,” Clarissa said gently. “But sometimes, it’s okay to let yourself breathe. To rest.”
Phoenix opened her eyes slowly, then turned away, facing the ceiling. Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” she said. “It’s that I can’t.”
Clarissa didn’t reply, just waited.
“The Wraith family… it’s different." She wasn’t born to be free. Her parents died when she was three. Everything since then—every breath she had taken—had belonged to this family.
She didn’t get to run or stop. The moment she did, they would bleed her dry.
Clarissa’s heart ached. Before she could respond, Phoenix shifted suddenly and pulled her into a tight embrace. “Just… let me hold you. For a while. Please.”
Clarissa didn’t resist. After a long moment, she asked gently, “What did you mean earlier? When you said you can’t...?”
Phoenix stayed quiet for a beat. Then she exhaled. “My family’s pushing for a marriage alliance again.”
Clarissa sat up slightly. “What? Did you go?”
“I sent Maximilian to pretend to be me.” A small smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. “He scared them all off. Poor bastards left humiliated.”
Clarissa couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re awful.”
Phoenix grinned. “It’s the only way to deal with those morons. I’m not wasting my time on that men.”
“Still… will it really be okay?”
“I’ll get scolded, maybe. But they’re not gonna disown me.” Her tone dropped, shadows returning to her eyes. All they wanted was a child. She was twenty-seven. The ‘perfect age,’ they said.
Clarissa watched her, unable to hide her worry.
Phoenix looked over suddenly, a mischievous glint in her eye. She wrapped an arm around Clarissa’s waist, pulling her close. “Hey. If only I were a man,” she whispered, half teasing. “I’d marry you right now. You wouldn’t need that little bastard Atticus at all.”
Clarissa laughed, relieved to hear the playful spark in her voice again. “Please. Who wouldn’t want to marry our dashing Phoenix?”
She reached out and ruffled her hair gently. “It’s late. Try to sleep.”
Phoenix nodded and closed her eyes, her expression softening. The humor faded into silence once more, and the shadows in her eyes disappeared beneath her lashes.
......
The next day, Clarissa accompanied Phoenix to the smithy to have her saber repaired.
Atticus had tried to follow them, but Phoenix shut him down coldly.
“Clarissa’s staying with me from now on. I’ll have someone pack her things. Now get lost.”
Before Clarissa could even open her mouth, Phoenix had already pulled her away.
At the forge, the clang of hammer against steel echoed through the air as the blade was being reshaped. Clarissa watched quietly, sneaking glances at Phoenix again and again.
Phoenix noticed. She set her teacup down with a small sigh and turned slightly toward her.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said. “You want to speak up for that little bastard. But Clarissa—he’s reckless. But he is so bold and lustful that he will definitely do something to you. It’s safer if you stay with me for now.”
Clarissa’s gaze dropped, her fingers unconsciously tightening around the edge of her skirt.
Phoenix noticed her hesitation and gently reached out to take her hand. “I’m not trying to control you,” she said softly. “But you promised me—you’d keep your eyes open. I’m not going to let you walk out of Dorian’s wolf den just to fall into another pit.”
“I know,” Clarissa said quietly. “I really do.”
Maybe distance was what they needed. Space to think.
She nodded. “Okay.”
Phoenix gave her a small, satisfied smile. “Then I’ll go with you to pack later.”
......
In the car, Clarissa turned toward her. “So… what are you going to do with Atticus?”
“He starts work tomorrow.”
Clarissa blinked. “Work? What kind of work?”
“There’s a vacant position in forensics. He fits the requirements.”
“Forensics?”
Phoenix shot her a glance. “One of our people had an accident, and we need someone to fill in. He’s smart, capable.”
Clarissa quickly shook her head. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just thought… the job might be too demanding.”
“Demanding?” Phoenix snorted. “That boy has way too much energy. A little exhaustion might do him some good.”
A flicker of embarrassment flashed across Clarissa’s face. If Phoenix was reacting this strongly, what would her parents say?
Just the thought made her feel breathless.
......
Phoenix had no intention of seeing Atticus again that day, so she sent Delilah to escort Clarissa and keep watch.
Delilah was waiting in the living room when Clarissa began packing. She was folding clothes into her suitcase when suddenly—
Two arms slipped around her waist from behind.
Clarissa startled, but relaxed as a familiar voice whispered against her ear.
“You’re really leaving?”
Atticus’s voice was soft, unreadable.
Clarissa nodded without turning around. “Phoenix asked me to stay with her for a while. Don’t worry—I’ll be fine. You take care of yourself too.”
Atticus tightened his grip just slightly. “You say that… but you’re still leaving. Clarissa, you’re cruel.”
His voice turned pitiful, coaxing—he leaned down and nuzzled her cheek gently. “Don’t go. Please? Good Clarissa… my sweet sis… I really, really know I was wrong…”
Her heart quivered. This—this tone—this look in his eyes.
Whenever he acted like a wounded puppy, she could barely hold herself together.
She inhaled slowly, trying to stay rational. Gently, she reached down and pried his hands away from her waist.
“Be good, Atticus. I’m just staying at Phoenix’s for a bit. Once she cools off—and once her shoulder’s healed—I’ll come back to see you.”
Atticus looked down at her, something flickering in his eyes—soft, but unreadable.
Then he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out two small boxes.
“These are the best wound medicines I have. Take them to her. Please.”
Clarissa’s eyes lit up with a small, surprised smile.
He really did care about Phoenix.
She took the boxes, nodding. “Thank you. It was all too sudden. Let her rest for now—once she’s in a better place, I’ll come back.”
Atticus reached out and gently took her hand in his. “Then… before you go, can I have a reward?”