"Hmmm..."
He pondered for a few more minutes, turning the fragments over in his mind, but no clear picture emerged.
His only solid conclusion mirrored his thoughts on the Valmere house.
Perhaps Etheaâs original enemies had decided she was no longer a threat and had cut off contact and even surveillance, assuming the curse would eventually do their work for them, and that a completely different person or group was responsible for the recent events.
The assassination attempt, the information block on his family, the mysterious warning call...
It all pointed toward a third party with an agenda he couldnât yet fathom.
âJust what do they want with us?â
If they werenât trying to kill her, were they protecting her? Or perhaps it was even more sinister, and they simply wanted to watch her suffer and slowly wither away under the weight of the curse. If that were the case, then their interference wasnât an act of mercy, but a way to ensure the âspectacleâ didnât end prematurely. This meant his sudden rise wasnât going unnoticed; they might simply be grooming him for something else.
The idea that he was being âallowedâ to grow was far more unsettling than the thought of being hunted. It suggested that his every move, including this very promotion, was merely a predicted step in someone elseâs plan. He felt like a piece on a board, gaining power only because a hidden player found it useful for their own endgame.
âUrgh...â
The dark possibilities churned on as the taxi slowed and his neighborhood came into view.
He paid the driver and stepped out into the crisp evening air. He shook his head, trying to clear the mental fog, but the cold wind offered little clarity.
âThereâs no point in chasing shadows without more information.â
He needed to focus on the variables he could actually control.
âActually,â as he passed through the gate, a sudden realization hit him, âthere is one easiest way to resolve most of these doubts. I...
âI simply have to ask Ethea.â
After all, no matter how he tried to rationalize it, this entire storm was swirling around her. If he wanted to understand the situation better, he needed the truth from her side of the story. Besides, after watching those mystery series together, he was certain she was sharper than he was; she had likely noticed things he hadnât even considered.
Perhaps she already knew she was under a curse. That would explain why she had seemingly given up on life.
âWait a second...â
Soren stopped in his tracks, nearly facepalming at his own tunnel vision.
âIt might not necessarily have been a person who cast that curse,â he realized, the thought striking him like a stray lightning bolt. âIt could have been a monster just as likely. After all, everything happened during that "unfortunate" gate break, that chaotic disaster where the rift tore open and let out who knows what. If she were struck by a unique entity or a high-ranking creatureâs ability, it would explain why the source is so hard to track.â
He stood frozen for a moment as the gears in his head began to grind.
It wasnât about finding a culprit or a hidden mastermind anymore. Instead, it was about identifying the specific species of monster or the rare essence of the creature that caused the injury. If the monster was still alive inside a gate somewhere, then the cure might be tied to its very existence.
This realization fundamentally altered how he viewed the path ahead.
âAsking her is the simplest and most logical option,â he thought, his eyes narrowing. âIt is the key to everything.â
But the thought was immediately followed by a heavy, sinking feeling in his chest.
âBut if I ask, I might just be tearing open scars she worked so hard to hide,â he mused, his hand tightening on the strap of his bag. âDo... Do I really want to be the one to drag her back to that day? If I push for the truth, I might break the little trust we managed to build. I... I might ruin the peace we finally have here.â
He stared at the front door of their home, the warm light through the windows feeling both inviting and terrifying.
He had just survived a promotion exam without breaking a sweat, yet the idea of this one conversation made his heart hammer against his ribs.
âNo,â he decided, letting out a long, slow breath. âI wonât rush it. Iâll discuss the name first. We will find our own foundation before I start digging into the ruins of her past.â
â...Yeah.â
He convinced himself.
âAt least... letâs build a little more trust first.â
He needed a stronger bridge between them before he started asking about the monsters that had broken her life.
Taking a deep, grounding breath, he finally turned the handle and pushed the door open.
The cold air of the street was immediately replaced by the warmth of the house and the smell of cooking. Lady Clara was busy in the kitchen, already well into the dinner preparations, while Ethea sat in the living room watching an animated movie.
His lips curled up faintly at the sight.
"Iâm home," he muttered.
Both Clara and Ethea turned in his direction at once. Ethea gave him a faint, lingering nod, a silent understanding crossing their gazes as if she could sense the exhaustion he was trying to hide.
"Youâre back, Mister Soren," Clara said, wiping her hands on her apron with a warm smile. "Youâre just in time. Dinner will be ready in ten minutes. Why donât you go ahead and wash up? You look like youâve had a very long day."
"It was a bit long," Soren admitted, leaning his spear bag against the wall.
He noticed Ethea was still looking at him, her eyes lingering as if checking for any new injuries. She didnât say anything, but the silent attention was enough to make the tension in his shoulders ease.
"Iâll be quick," he said, heading toward the back of the house.
As he splashed water on his face, he pushed the thoughts of curses and hidden enemies to the back of his mind. The investigation could wait. Tonight, the only thing that mattered was finding a name they could both live with.