Anya stayed quiet for a long moment, her mind turning over the words. She wasn’t used to feeling so out of her depth.
But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that Dorian was right. This wasn’t just some minor issue to be ignored. This was something that could change everything for her—if she was brave enough to pursue it.
Finally, she let out a long breath, the tension in her shoulders slowly easing. "Alright then," she muttered under her breath, her voice hardening with resolve. "I’ll treat this like a hunt."
Aria raised an eyebrow, amused by the sudden shift in Anya’s demeanor. "A hunt, huh? I didn’t know you were into that sort of thing."
Anya looked Aria squarely in the eyes, her expression intense. "And I won’t stop until I’ve made him mine."
Aria leaned back in her chair, nodding in approval. "Now that’s the Anya I know. If anyone can win this fight, it’s you."
Dorian chuckled softly, clearly satisfied with her decision. "Good. You’ve got the right mindset now.
"But remember, it’s not about winning him over like you would in a hunt. It’s about understanding him, opening up, and showing him that you care—no matter how much you fight it."
Anya nodded, her confidence returning. She didn’t have all the answers, and she didn’t know how it would all play out, but one thing was certain: she wasn’t going to back down from this challenge.
"Thanks," she muttered, looking between Aria and Dorian. "I think I can do this now," she said with a wide grin.
Aria smiled. "That’s the spirit."
Anya stood up from her seat. The tension in her shoulders had eased, replaced by the kind of resolve that only came from facing something truly challenging. Find more chapters on freewebnovel
She turned to Dorian, her voice filled with genuine appreciation.
"Thanks, Dorian. I needed to hear that," she said, her words simple but sincere.
The warmth of gratitude lingered in her voice, though she tried to mask it with her usual sharpness.
She wasn’t great at expressing emotions, but Dorian’s words had hit the mark more than she wanted to admit.
Dorian nodded at her. "No problem. Just remember, the hardest battles are often the ones we fight inside ourselves. Good luck, Anya. You’ve got this."
Anya gave a brief nod in return, feeling the weight of his words settle into her chest. She didn’t have all the answers, but for the first time in a while, she felt ready to face what came next.
Without another word, she turned and began to make her way toward the door. Her steps were calm—perhaps even filled with a sense of purpose. And though she knew the path ahead would be complicated, she felt something shift inside her.
She had been running from this for too long—avoiding the messy, vulnerable side of herself that she so often kept hidden.
But now? Now, she was going to face it, no matter how hard it seemed.
Anya’s footsteps faded as the door clicked shut behind her. Aria waited a beat, then leaned forward, elbows propped on the table.
"Hold on," she said, tilting her head toward Dorian.
"We never got to ask her who, exactly, this mysterious guy is. The one who’s got her so twisted up she didn’t know what to do with herself."
Her grin turned sly. "I mean, come on—since when does Anya lose her cool over anyone?"
Dorian didn’t look at her, "It doesn’t concern us."
Aria scoffed. "Since when are you the patron saint of minding your own business? You’re usually elbow-deep in everyone’s drama."
This time, Dorian met her gaze, his eyes sharp. "Matters of the heart are delicate, Aria. Not everyone wishes to parade their vulnerabilities, least of all Anya. Prying won’t help her—or you."
Aria held up her hands in mock surrender, though her smirk lingered. "Fine, fine. Protect the emotionally constipated, by all means. But you’ve gotta admit it’s intriguing. Whoever he is, he’s clearly got claws in her deeper than she’d ever admit."
Dorian sighed, setting the papers aside. "Intrigue isn’t a license to meddle. If she wanted us to know, she’d have said. Respect the silence."
"Respect the silence," Aria echoed, rolling her eyes. "Says the man who once interrogated a smuggler for three hours over a missing ledger."
A faint smile appeared on Dorian’s mouth, but he didn’t bite. Instead, he nodded toward the door. "She’ll tell us when she’s ready. Or she won’t. Either way, it’s hers to carry."
Aria drummed her fingers on the table, her curiosity only half-tamed. "You’re no fun."
Dorian pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly. "Aria."
She blinked at him. "What?"
"You’re drunk, aren’t you?"
"I don’t know what you’re—" Her words slurred mid-sentence, and she wobbled suddenly, her elbow slipping off the table.
Before Dorian could react, she face-planted onto the wooden surface with a muffled thud, her cheek squished against the counter. A soft snore escaped her.
Dorian stared at her for a long moment then sighed. "Sometimes it’s shocking just how much a few glasses of alcohol can… rearrange people. Even the sharpest of minds could turn absurdly playful under its influence."
He stood, shaking his head, and draped his coat over Aria’s slumped shoulders. "Rest well, miss strategist of the blue seals, seems ill have to call Eryx in again to come pick you up."
....
....
Back with Alister and the others.
The go-kart track was filled with the roar of engines and the screech of tires as Alister and the others tore through the course, their karts weaving between neon-lit barriers and sharp turns.
The wind howled past their helmets, and the adrenaline-fueled atmosphere was electric.
But no matter how hard they tried, no matter how aggressively they drifted or how expertly they cut corners.
Beatrice was an entire dimension ahead of them.
She wasn’t just winning—she was obliterating them.
Her kart glided over the track with impossible grace, taking turns at impossible angles, drifting like a professional racer, and maintaining an absurd lead that made the rest of them look like amateurs.
Blitz, struggling to keep up at second place, slammed her foot on the gas, but her kart barely made a dent in the gap.
"What the hell, Beatrice?!" she shouted over the roar of engines.
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"How are you doing this?! Did you install rocket boosters on that thing? Are you secretly a Formula One driver? Did you sell your soul for racing skills?!"