The Weight Of Silence

Dusk had fallen.

The sun had dipped below the horizon, and golden light faded into shadow around the small hut.

Inside, everyone had somehow squeezed around the modest dining table to share a meal. Aria sat among them, silently

She had never been around so many people before. It felt overwhelming.

Her thoughts were broken when Rayan gently placed a bowl of vegetable soup in front of her.

“Here.”

She gave a small nod and lowered her head, focusing on the food. The taste was different from her own cooking—milder, unfamiliar—but she was starving, and she ate quickly.

Too quickly.

Rayan, watching her closely, quietly placed a glass of water beside her bowl, remembering how she’d choked the last time.

Around the table, the knights served themselves casually, but some of them couldn’t help noticing the unusual way their master was behaving.

Maxim and Tristan, in particular, paid closer attention.

While Tristan’s expression remained cool and unreadable, Maxim watched with clear curiosity. The lines of age on his face softened every time his eyes landed on Aria.

So when Aria finally looked up, her hunger momentarily dulled, and glanced hesitantly at the people sharing her table, Maxim offered her a gentle smile.

Startled, Aria quickly looked away, as if she’d been caught doing something wrong.

In her flustered attempt to eat again, she bit off more than she could chew and began to cough.

Rayan immediately leaned forward, patting her back and passing her the water, worry flickering in his eyes.

The knights all stared, dumbfounded—except for Tristan, who had seen this exact scene play out before and remained unmoved.

Eden leaned toward Linus and whispered, eyes still fixed on Rayan and Aria.

“Is it just me, or is His Excellency being a bit too gentle with her?”

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Linus, though a little surprised himself, didn’t indulge such talk. He picked up his chopsticks and replied flatly.

“It’s just you.”

Not satisfied, Eden turned to his other side, expecting Tristan to agree.

But Eden didn’t know what Tristan had been through in the past few days—nor how much he was struggling to accept what he had seen and felt.

Tristan glared at Eden.

“If there’s a competition for speaking nonsense, you’ll win first prize—hands down.”

Eden blinked, confused by the sharp tone. Then his lips curled in mock suspicion.

“Don’t tell me… you’re jealous?”

Tristan’s jaw tightened. His hand twitched, as if he was seconds away from lunging at Eden, who simply grinned with satisfaction.

Magnus, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke up in a low voice.

“You should be careful, Eden. You really think His Excellency can’t hear you?”

Eden froze.

The hut was small, and they were all martial artists—keen hearing was second nature. Rayan’s was better than anyone’s.

When Eden dared to glance at him, he was met with a cold, wordless stare.

A shiver ran down his spine. He said no more after that.

Meanwhile, Aria, still embarrassed by her coughing fit, lowered her head and ate more slowly. Her appetite had dulled.

Then, unexpectedly, Maxim asked gently, “Does My Lady find the soup appetizing?”

She didn’t understand a word.

She only heard a voice and looked up curiously. When she saw the middle-aged man addressing her, she blinked in confusion, then turned to Rayan—lost, like a child seeking help.

Rayan answered for her, his tone indifferent.

“She doesn’t understand our language. Hers is different… even from the Ulrik people. Don’t bother her.”

He reached out and refilled Aria’s bowl.

She looked at the brimming soup with alarm.

How am I supposed to eat all that?

She turned her worried gaze to Rayan, who pretended not to notice. Her silent plea went ignored.

Maxim, watching this, said quietly, “That’s unfortunate.”

Rayan didn’t respond. He focused on his food.

The rest of the meal passed in relative silence.

When it ended, everyone got to work.

One washed dishes. Another cleaned the kitchen. Two began arranging sleeping spaces inside the hut, knowing they’d stay the night.

Rayan and Maxim stood in a corner, deep in serious conversation.

Aria stood in the middle of the hut, unsure of what to do. Everyone seemed busy. Was she supposed to help?

When she saw the two knights preparing bedding, she moved to assist, reaching for a wooden board.

But before she could lift it, Eden appeared and took it from her hands, shaking his head firmly.

How could he let a lady do such work?

From across the hut, Rayan noticed and gave Eden an approving look.

But Aria didn’t understand such gestures of chivalry. She only felt confused.

Why had he taken the board from her?

Still wanting to help, she went to the kitchen and picked up a cloth to dry the dishes.

Before she could, Magnus stepped in silently and took the utensil from her. He offered her a polite smile and gently took the cloth from her hand—without touching her.

Once again… she was not allowed to help.

Aria’s chest tightened.

They worked together, moved together, shared quiet words and tasks.

And they didn’t include her.

She wasn’t part of them.

They didn’t want her to be.

She didn’t belong here.

Without a word, Aria turned and walked back into her room. Her lips trembled, and she bit down on them.

She would wait.

Wait for them to finish… Wait for them to leave.

Leave her alone— Just like before.