The carriage rolled steadily through the quiet streets, the soft sound of wheels against stone filling the silence between them.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
Miralen sat beside the window, watching the passing scenery blur outside. Noble houses stretched past them, trimmed gardens standing too perfectly still beneath the afternoon light.
Then finally, she glanced at Verbena.
"So," Miralen said casually, leaning back against her seat, "what were you talking about with Prince Hazen?"
Verbena blinked once.
"Nothing much," she replied quickly. "Just… about the citizens of the kingdom."
Miralen slowly narrowed her eyes. "Really?"
Verbena nodded a little too fast. "Yes."
Miralen folded her arms. "That sounded suspiciously fast." Verbena stiffened. Miralen tilted her head slightly, studying her expression carefully.
"You're hiding something," she said calmly. Then after a pause, her gaze softened just a little.
"…Was it about me?"
Verbena froze. Her fingers curled slightly over the fabric of her dress. Then she looked down. "…Yes," she admitted quietly.
Miralen stayed silent.
Verbena hesitated before continuing. "But we weren't saying anything bad," she said quickly, almost defensively. "We were only talking about… how much you've changed."
Her voice lowered.
"You don't really talk to me much anymore." The sadness in her voice landed heavier than Miralen expected.
For a brief moment, Miralen didn't know what to say. Then she leaned slightly closer. "Then why lie to me?" she asked gently.
Verbena looked up, startled.
"You could've just told me," Miralen continued softly. "I would've listened." Verbena stared at her quietly.
"I'd actually like to talk to you again," Miralen added, her voice quieter now.
Something fragile shifted in Verbena's expression. Hope.
Small, trembling hope. "Sister…" she whispered.
Miralen tilted her head slightly and smiled.
"You know I'm here for you, right?" she said warmly. "We can try going back to how things were before." A pause. "…Together."
Verbena's eyes immediately glossed over. Before Miralen could react, Verbena suddenly leaned forward and hugged her tightly. "Thank you," she whispered shakily. "I thought… after everything happened… you would never be the same again."
Miralen stiffened for only a second before gently hugging her back. Her hand moved slowly to Verbena's shoulder, patting it softly. "How could you think that?" Miralen said quietly. "You're my sister."
The words came out naturally. Too naturally. And somehow that made it worse.
Miralen lowered her gaze. I'm sorry, she thought silently.
I'm not your sister. I'm only here to free your soul.
Something heavy settled quietly in her chest.
Verbena slowly pulled away, quickly wiping her eyes. "Sorry," she muttered awkwardly. "I got emotional."
Miralen's expression softened. "No problem." Then after a pause, a tiny smirk appeared on her face. "But seriously," she said, eyeing Verbena dramatically, "wipe your tears."
Verbena blinked.
"You look ugly when you cry."
Verbena gasped. "Hey!" she protested immediately, sitting straighter. "I am not ugly!"
Miralen chuckled.
"Oh? Really?"
"Yes!"
"You looked like a wet angry kitten just now."
Verbena stared at her in betrayal. "A kitten?!"
Miralen laughed quietly. "There she is."
Verbena folded her arms dramatically and turned her face away. "Whatever." The pout stayed. It somehow made her look even younger. Miralen smiled to herself.
The carriage suddenly slowed. Then stopped. They had arrived home.
Both girls stepped outside. The evening air felt cooler now.
For a moment, everything was quiet. Verbena looked at Miralen. Then suddenly— she gasped. "Oh my God."
Miralen turned immediately. "What happened?" she asked, instantly serious. "Why are you looking at me like I committed a crime?"
Verbena raised a trembling finger. "Your hair."
Miralen blinked.
"…My hair?"
Verbena stepped closer with visible concern. "Some strands are out."
Silence.
Miralen stared at her.
"…Seriously?"
Verbena nodded solemnly.
"Yes."
Miralen looked genuinely done with life. "That's why you reacted like someone died?"
"You don't understand," Verbena said, shaking her head like a disappointed mother. "You're a soldier. Your hair is always messy."
Miralen sighed dramatically. "Oh no." She placed a hand over her chest. "My life. My reputation."
Verbena narrowed her eyes. "I'm serious."
"Verbena," Miralen said, exhausted, "if my biggest problem right now is my hair, then I think my life is finally being nice to me."
Verbena huffed.
"You're impossible."
Miralen raised a brow. "Should we go inside," she asked, "or are you planning to start an entire judging session about my hair in front of the house?"
Verbena rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. "…We can go inside." Then quietly to herself— Why did I even say that out loud?
Miralen snorted softly. "Come on."
And together, the two sisters stepped back inside.
(The end of chapter 18)