Patterns of Friction

The silence stretched between them, a blade's edge waiting to fall.

Cael's breath came slow, controlled, but his heart pounded like war drums. Lirienne stood before him, clad in ceremonial mage armor, silver and navy gleaming under the dim torchlight of the Vaults. The Codex—the very thing Malrik was willing to kill for—hovered behind her, suspended within layers of arcane wards.

She was guarding it.

Not captured. Not coerced.

She was standing in his way.

His mind raced through a thousand possibilities, a thousand betrayals—but none of them made sense. Not her. Not Lirienne.

Veyna, beside him, gritted her teeth. Her fingers curled around the hilt of her dagger. "Say the word, Cael. I'll cut her down myself."

Lirienne's golden eyes flickered to the rogue, her face unreadable. "You always surround yourself with people like her, don't you, Cael?"

Veyna let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Oh, you are really not in a position to get self-righteous, princess."

Cael raised a hand, silencing her. His voice was quiet, but edged with something raw. "You're guarding the Codex."

Lirienne didn't move. "Yes."

A single word. No explanation.

The ache in his chest tightened. Say something else, Liri. Tell me you're being forced. That you have no choice. Give me something.

But she just stared at him, unreadable. Cold.

Cael exhaled slowly, mind shifting into calculation. He was good at this. He could predict movements, patterns, strategies. He could weave through a battlefield like a shadow. But this? This wasn't a fight he had prepared for.

He took a step forward. "Move."

She didn't.

"Cael—" Veyna warned, but he ignored her.

Another step.

"Liri," his voice was lower now, softer. "Don't do this."

Her fingers twitched at her side. The first sign of hesitation.

Then she raised her hand.

A radiant sigil flared to life in the air between them, celestial runes burning with divine energy. It was a barrier—a warning.

She would fight him if he took another step.

Cael went still.

He heard Veyna unsheath her dagger. Heard the hum of distant magic coursing through the Vault. But all of it faded into the background as he looked at Lirienne—really looked at her.

Her lips were pressed into a tight line. Her shoulders rigid, but her fingers trembled, barely noticeable beneath the flickering light.

This wasn't victory for her.

This wasn't confidence.

It was a decision made with the weight of a hundred regrets.

Cael's voice barely rose above a whisper. "Tell me why."

For a second, something flickered in her gaze. But then she set her jaw and spoke the words that cut deeper than any blade.

"I am loyal to the Dominion."

A pause.

"And to the Academy."

A cold finality settled in his stomach. He had always been invisible, forgotten, overlooked. And for the longest time, he thought that was the worst thing that could happen.

But this?

Being seen and rejected—by her—was worse.

Veyna let out a breath beside him. "Well. Guess that settles that."

Cael wasn't sure how long he stood there, the weight of Lirienne's words sinking in.

Then, something inside him clicked.

A pattern.

A misalignment.

She wasn't lying—but she wasn't telling the whole truth, either.

Cael had spent his entire life reading people, predicting their next move before they made it. He knew when someone was holding back. And Lirienne... Lirienne was holding back.

The realization hit him like a jolt of lightning.

She wanted him to believe she had betrayed him.

She wanted him to walk away.

Why?

Cael's mind raced. The Codex. The Vault. Malrik. The Academy Council. A web of power plays and political maneuvering.

And Lirienne was right at the center of it.

His fingers curled into fists. Fine. If she wanted him to believe she had chosen the Dominion over him—he would let her.

For now.

But he wouldn't walk away.

He never did.

Cael exhaled and took a single step back, watching as Lirienne's shoulders barely relaxed. Not enough for anyone else to notice.

But he did.

"Let's go," he murmured to Veyna.

The rogue hesitated, but after a moment, she slipped the dagger back into its sheath. "You're way too soft, you know that?"

Cael didn't respond. He turned on his heel and walked away, leaving the Codex—and Lirienne—behind.

But as they disappeared into the shadows, he cast one last glance over his shoulder.

Lirienne still stood there, rigid, unmoving.

But her hands were clenched.

And for the first time since they arrived, she wouldn't meet his gaze.