Riven stepped inside, the warmth of the pavilion wrapping around him as the scent of food and wine drifted through the air. The lower floor was lively, filled with laughter and overlapping conversations, but he barely registered any of it. His gaze moved once across the room before shifting toward the staircase, his steps steady as he made his way up to the second floor where the atmosphere was quieter, more reserved, and far less crowded.
His eyes swept across the tables—
Then stopped.
For a brief moment, his steps slowed almost imperceptibly as recognition settled in, sharper than he had expected. The girl by the window sat exactly where he had seen her from outside, her posture straight and composed, her hands resting lightly near the table. The soft lantern light framed her features, and there—just beside her left eye—was that small star-shaped birthmark he remembered far too clearly.
It's her.
Riven's gaze sharpened slightly.
Shit.
Did I mess something up already?
The thought lingered as he approached, his expression remaining calm even as his mind ran through their previous interaction, searching for anything that might have given him away. Had he acted differently? Said something wrong? Done something that didn't match whatever she expected from Alric?
Her gaze met his as he reached the table.
"You came," she said softly.
Riven stopped across from her and pulled out the chair, sitting down without hesitation as he gave a faint nod.
"Of course."
But as he settled down a thought haunted him.
Was I supposed to hug her?
But thinking back to the party he got confused.
She hadn't acted like they were together.
And nothing had really hinted toward it.
A servant approached briefly, placing a cup in front of him before retreating again, but Riven didn't touch it. His attention remained fixed on her, taking in the details he hadn't fully processed before. Up close, she looked exactly the same as she had in the garden—calm, composed, and strangely unaffected by the setting around her—but something about her presence felt different now.
More focused.
More deliberate.
She wasn't nervous, and she wasn't acting like someone meeting someone she was close to. There was no warmth of familiarity, no attempt at charm or ease—just quiet observation, as though she were studying him rather than greeting him.
"Have you eaten here before?" she asked after a moment, her tone neutral.
Riven paused slightly at the question.
His gaze lingered on her for a second longer.
No recognition.
No warmth.
No trace of anything that suggested this was a reunion.
Only quiet observation.
The thought settled slowly.
…She doesn't know him.
Or at least—
Not the way he had assumed.
Riven leaned back slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction as the realization clicked into place. He had read too much into the letter. Whatever this was, it wasn't a meeting between people who shared any kind of relationship.
Which only raised a more important question.
Then why call him here?
His eyes narrowed faintly as he studied her again, this time more carefully, searching for intent beneath the calm surface.
"…No," he answered finally.
She nodded faintly.
"That's a pity."
Her gaze drifted briefly toward the tables around them, where servants moved between guests carrying steaming dishes and filled cups.
"The food here is good."
Riven followed her glance for a moment before looking back at her.
"I'll take your word for it."
A small pause settled between them.
Then her eyes returned to him, more focused now.
"I don't think we were properly introduced."
Riven held her gaze for a moment.
"Mirelle Ashford," she continued, her voice calm, almost matter-of-fact. "We spoke briefly in the garden."
"I remember."
He didn't add more.
Her fingers shifted slightly against the table before going still again.
"I wanted to talk to you after that," she said.
Riven's eyes narrowed faintly.
"In the garden?"
She nodded.
"And at the training grounds."
A brief pause followed.
She seemed to hesitate for a moment, her fingers brushing lightly against the edge of the table before she continued.
"…You're strong."
Riven didn't react immediately.
Her gaze stayed on him, steady but not sharp—more thoughtful than probing.
"But I hadn't heard of you before."
There was a faint crease between her brows now.
"Most of the others…" she paused briefly, then added with a quieter tone, "they usually make themselves known."
For a split second, something like self-awareness flickered across her expression.
A very faint blush touched her cheeks.
"…They tend to approach me."
It wasn't said with arrogance.
More like an observation she wasn't entirely comfortable stating out loud.
Riven noticed.
Of course they do.
His gaze flickered over her face.
Then his eyes narrowed slightly.
"You saw the fight?"
She nodded.
"Yes."
A short silence followed.
Riven leaned back a little.
"…I haven't paid much attention to the city's 'elite' circle recently."
He gestured faintly toward his right side.
The empty sleeve.
"After that."
Her gaze flicked down immediately.
This time she lingered a fraction longer before looking back up.
"I see."
Another pause.
Then, more quietly—
"It doesn't seem to have slowed you down much though."
Riven met her eyes for a moment.
"…Not as much as it should have."
Conversation with her was easy.
Since she didn't really seem to know Alric.
She tilted her head just a little.
"I have a question."
Riven raised an eyebrow.
"Go on."
She hesitated again.
Just briefly.
"…It might be a bit strange."
"Wouldn't be the first today."
That earned the faintest hint of a reaction from her—almost a smile, gone as quickly as it appeared.
Then she asked:
"How do you think you would compare to Cassian Azurelake… in a fight?"
Riven didn't answer her question immediately.
Instead, he leaned back slightly, studying her.
"If you called me here," he said calmly, "you must already have an opinion on that."
Mirelle blinked.
Just once.
The response clearly hadn't been what she expected.
"…You seem roughly as strong," she said after a short pause, her voice quieter now, more careful.
Riven tilted his head slightly.
"Then why ask?"
She hesitated.
For the first time since he had sat down, her composure wavered—only slightly, but enough to be noticeable. Her fingers tightened faintly against the table as if she was trying to decide how to proceed.
Then, almost abruptly, she shifted.
"I asked around."
Riven's eyes narrowed a fraction.
"…About?"
Her gaze lifted to meet his again.
"You're in the Knights Order."
It wasn't phrased as a question.
Still—
Riven answered carefully.
"Yes."
A small pause.
"What about it?"
"…Me too."
For a brief moment, surprise flickered across his mind, though his expression remained unchanged.
But Mirelle didn't linger on it.
Instead, she continued, her voice a little more uncertain now than before.
"In the upcoming trial…" she began, then paused, as if weighing her words.
"…would you consider teaming up with me?"
Riven's gaze sharpened.
A beat of silence passed.
She added, more quietly—
"I know of a… place."
A slight hesitation before the last word.
Subtle.
But deliberate.
"Why me?" he asked.
Her brows drew together slightly.
"What about Cassian?"
For the first time, something clear crossed her expression.
Annoyance.
Brief.
Sharp.
"I don't like him."
Riven raised an eyebrow.
"But you agreed to go on a date with him."
Her lips pressed together faintly.
"…Why do you think I don't like him?"
Riven opened his mouth—
Then closed it again.
…Fair enough.
She exhaled quietly, her posture straightening just a little as she regained her composure.
"It would benefit you too," she added, though the words didn't come as smoothly as her earlier ones. "The trial isn't simple."
That much, at least, sounded honest.
Riven watched her for a moment.
She wasn't used to this.
Asking.
Relying on someone else.
That alone made the offer more interesting.
Still—
He didn't have enough information.
Not about the trial.
Not about her.
And definitely not enough to commit.
"I'll think about it," he said finally. "Give me a few days."
Before she could respond something shifted.
Riven's expression stilled almost imperceptibly.
The mark.
Alric was moving.
Leaving the city.
His focus snapped inward for a fraction of a second, confirming it.
Now?
Riven stood.
"Something came up," he said, already turning slightly.
Mirelle blinked, caught off guard.
"Wait—"
But he was already stepping back.
"I'll find you."
The words came quickly.
Then he was gone.
Out the door.
Down the stairs.
Into the night.
The moment he stepped outside, his pace shifted, his attention fully locking onto the faint pull of the Arachnotoxin.
He wasn't going to miss this chance.