Chapter 181: Whispers Beneath the White
The ceiling was too white.
Eva blinked once. Then again. Each breath tasted sterile, recycled, humming beneath a constant white - noise buzz that wasn't quite silence. She didn't know where she was — but she wasn't cold. That was the first strange thing. She should've been cold. There'd been shouting. Screams. A blast, or several. Gunfire. Arms dragging her, voices muffled and distorted. And then — darkness.
Now, nothing but white walls and soft linen and a low hum that could've been machines or just the thrum of her own disoriented pulse. Her whole body felt strange — slow, heavy, floaty. Not painful, exactly, but sore. Deeply sore. Like she'd been unraveled and stitched back together.
"Arry?" she whispered, voice cracking.
A shift in the corner.
She turned her head, slowly. There she was. Aristea. Her Arry. Not in a dress anymore — wearing a loose white blouse, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, dark slacks too long for her legs. She looked impossibly tall like this, like the statues Eva had once seen in her mythology book, except this goddess was alive. Watching. Waiting.
"You're awake." Aristea's voice was soft, but even in its gentleness, there was steel.
Eva tried to sit up — and winced. Her muscles balked. Aristea was at her side in two strides, sitting beside her on the edge of the bed.
"Careful," Aristea said, hand reaching instinctively toward her cheek. "You just came out of recovery. They said the sedation would linger for a while."
Eva's brow furrowed. "Recovery from what?"
"There was… damage. Internal, from the shockwave. You collapsed in the courtyard. They had to operate. Small procedure, nothing invasive. But you lost consciousness before they could even explain. I — someone fired at us. Or maybe at someone else. It was chaos. We were pulled out."
"Who?" Eva whispered. "Who pulled us?"
"I don't know. My guards, I think. One of my uncles was nearby. I think your father shouted something. I don't remember all of it."
Eva's heart pounded harder now. "My papa?"
"He's alive," Aristea answered quickly. "I don't know where he is, but someone said he was secured. This place is a holding facility. Medical. Private. Very, very private."
Eva looked around again. "So no one knows?"
"No one outside the family alliances," Aristea replied grimly. "And even then, not many. You're safe. That's all that matters. I made sure of it."
Eva blinked at her, and her lips trembled. "You — how? Why?"
Aristea didn't answer for a moment. Then, softly, she replied, "Because you're my friend. And because you matter to me. They were going to evacuate only me. I refused. I told them to find you. To bring you."
Tears filled Eva's eyes. "You stayed for me."
"I'd do it again," Aristea said without hesitation. "And again."
Eva launched forward, arms thrown around her. Aristea caught her gently, holding her smaller frame close, pressing her hand to the back of Eva's head.
"I was scared," Eva admitted, her voice muffled in Aristea's shoulder. "I thought — I don't know. That I wouldn't wake up."
"I never let go of your hand," Aristea murmured. "Even when they carried us. Even when I was crying and pretending I wasn't."
Eva pulled back, looking into her eyes. "You cried?"
"Maybe."
Eva's lip twitched, then cracked into a watery smile. "Even goddesses cry?"
"Only when their moonbeams are hurt."
That made Eva's heart ache in the most delicate way. She clutched Aristea's fingers. "Is it morning? Night? How long?"
"About twelve hours. You were under for some of it, and asleep for the rest. Once they stabilized you, they gave you something to help you rest."
Eva let her shoulders fall. Then she reached out and grabbed Aristea's hands again, tighter this time.
"What happens now?"
Aristea exhaled. "I don't know yet. Security's sweeping the site. The party is over, obviously. The Rousseau – Parnassos and Maxwell— Lioré contingents are meeting now — your father included. There's talk of threats, of rogue agents, of political sabotage."
Eva's throat tightened. "Was it because of us?"
"Maybe. Or maybe we were just there when it happened. It's not clear. But," Aristea tilted her head, "I think it's more than coincidence. You were about to leave. We were seen dancing. You're not just an Ainsley, and everyone saw that."
"They think I'm nobody."
"They're wrong," Aristea said darkly. "I saw the way you carried yourself. The way you didn't flinch when they whispered. And then you bowed to the general like you belonged beside his granddaughter. You belong more than half the snakes in that room."
Eva smiled, then faltered. "My papa… he's going to be angry."
"Why?"
"For getting caught in the chaos. For being vulnerable. For needing help."
"You didn't cause any of it. You're recovering from something real. He can't punish you for that."
Eva looked down. "He can always find a reason."
Aristea's lips pressed into a line. "If he so much as glares at you wrong, I'll have my great - aunt glare back. She terrifies half the ministers in A•••••."
That made Eva giggle. "I want to meet her."
"You will. When we go hunting. You promised."
Eva blinked. "Is this still… happening?"
"I intend to make it happen. Whether we're in G••••• or not."
Eva looked up at her, studying the curve of her cheek, the fierce glint in her eye. "You're kind."
"No," Aristea said. "I'm selfish. I don't want to lose you."
A warm silence fell between them. Then Aristea stood. "Come on. Let's get you something warm to drink. They left food for us."
She helped Eva to her feet and led her to a small table set in the corner. A covered tray, a kettle, two cups. Aristea poured warm chamomile tea and uncovered a few light pastries.
Eva sat, cupping the tea gratefully. Her hands still trembled slightly.
"Does anything still hurt?" Aristea asked.
"Not badly. It's more like… everything inside feels bruised."
"Mine too."
They sat side by side, sipping quietly.
"I think," Aristea murmured, "that someone was testing us. Or warning us."
Eva nodded. "That's what Papa would say. He always said trials come when you're seen."
"Then we must've been seen very clearly," Aristea said dryly.
Eva leaned her head on Aristea's shoulder. "You didn't leave me."
"I won't. Even when we go back. We'll write, or call, or send signals with mirrors."
"Moonlight codes," Eva murmured. "Between Aristea and her huntress."
"Yes."
They stayed there for a long while.
Later, someone knocked — a soft, rhythmic signal. Aristea stood, placed herself between Eva and the door, and answered. A tall man in military dress, silver-haired and formal, stood with a sealed letter.
"For Miss Maxwell - Lioré," he said. "From your father."
Aristea took it, thanked him, and shut the door. She looked at Eva.
"Do you want to open it?"
Eva stared at the envelope for a moment, then nodded. Her hands shook slightly as she broke the seal and unfolded the note.
It was short.
Evangeline,
You're unharmed. That's what matters.
We will speak soon.
Until then, remain calm. Learn. Watch. Remember.
– R. L.
Eva stared at the lines, heart twisting. Aristea peered over her shoulder.
"Not exactly warm."
"No," Eva whispered, "but… it's how he is."
"Cold."
"No. Focused."
Eva folded the note and placed it beside her plate. "But I'm not afraid. Not really. Not right now."
Aristea smiled. "That's because I'm here."
"Yes."
They were silent again. And then Aristea leaned over and pressed a kiss to Eva's forehead.
"We're not done dancing, huntress. No matter what anyone says."
Eva blushed deeply, the heat climbing to her ears. Aristea chuckled.
"Still red. Even now."
"Don't tease me."
"I can't help it. You're adorable when flustered."
Eva narrowed her eyes. "And you're infuriating when smug."
"Perfect match."
They laughed softly. For now, the world outside the white room didn't exist.
Only they did.
And that was enough.