Van had become a regular visitor at the house.
He always brought something: a rare fruit, an overly fragrant bouquet, or a light song played on a lute he had learned "just to make Aria smile."
One summer evening, as they were all returning from the market, Van, Roy, and Aria stopped near the creek. Van threw flat stones on the water, skillfully making them skip.
— If you beat me, Aria, I swear I won't say a single compliment for a whole week, he declared with a wink.
— Deal, she replied laughing.
She threw... and lost.
But Van kept his promise. For a whole week, he didn't compliment her even once. He teased her, helped her, played the fool, but didn't say a word about her beauty.
And that… unsettled Roy more than he thought.
He watched silently. He didn't like seeing Aria smile so much at Van's jokes.
He didn't like seeing Van get so close to her, placing flowers in her hair "for decoration."
He didn't like feeling that strange pang in his chest.
One morning, while Aria was preparing honey cakes, Van entered with tousled hair.
— Aria, I missed you last night… in my dreams!
— Van! shouted Roy, already exasperated. You want to end up headfirst in the well?
— I'm joking, Roy. Aria, did you make these cakes? One bite and I might really fall in love!
Roy snatched the cake from Van's hand with a growl. Aria burst out laughing.
But what neither of them saw was the shadow perched on the old roof, hidden beneath the soft morning light.
Wilfred, arms crossed, watched the scene.
A gentle but steady anger pulsed through his veins.
> Why was that smile no longer for me?
He whispered into the wind:
> "You laugh so loud… for a heart that silently touched mine."
Then he drifted away, disappearing into a breath of shadow.