Chapter 413. An Argument Between Fiances! (This Is So Entertaining!)

The sound came from outside about twenty minutes into dinner.

It was far from quiet. Elizabeth’s voice resonated, and the group at the table recognized it before the words became clear, for Elizabeth Von Starlight possessed a distinctive quality in her speech, even when angered: a precision that remained intact, even when the rest of her voice faltered.

What was in it now was not the controlled professional frustration she applied to operational problems. It was something considerably less managed.

"You had one hand free," Elizabeth said from outside.

The words carried clearly through Drevash Inn’s wall construction. "You were not holding a weapon. You were not in active combat."

"You, Alexander, chose to hold the weapon in one hand, and when your footing failed due to fatigue from three days of navigating difficult terrain, that is what led to the incident!"

"B-But... I was... helping Veylor," Alexander said, and his voice came through at the register of someone who believes they are making an entirely reasonable point. "He’s still unconcious..."

"Someone had to support Veylor’s weight; otherwise, he would have fallen on that terrain and remained there, which is why I believe I made the right call."

"There were nine other people in that canyon."

"Rex was attending to the unconscious individuals. Apollo was still partially aware due to the suppression, which affected his ability to fully respond to the situation around him. And Iris wound her back, Elizabeth," Alexander said. "I assessed the situation and made a decision."

"That’s what we do on expeditions: we make choices based on imperfect information and under challenging conditions."

"You could have passed the Key to anyone," Elizabeth said. "Talyra, Nerith, Aisella—anyone who had a free hand and the sense to keep hold of it."

"It happened quickly," Alexander explained. "Veylor began to fall, and I grabbed him, but the Key was already in my right hand..."

"It wasn’t a premeditated sequence of decisions, but... it was two seconds of a man about to fall."

"Two seconds in which you chose not to transfer the Key to someone else."

"I chose to keep Veylor from hitting the ground."

"And the Key."

"I didn’t know I was going to stumble."

"Obviously you didn’t know," Elizabeth said. "That’s not what I’m asking!"

"I’m not asking about the stumble...!"

’Here we go,’ Rex thought, and he ate his bread.

As Rex chewed thoughtfully, he felt the weight of the moment pressing down on him. He knew that soon, someone would need to intervene before the situation spiraled further out of control.

But no one intervened because they believed it was not something that should be stopped, thinking that allowing the situation to unfold might lead to a necessary resolution or lesson for those involved.

"It’s not about the stumble," Elizabeth said, and her voice had shifted into a register that was harder to listen to than the anger had been, something rawer at the edges. "I understand that people make mistakes and stumble from time to time."

"Then what are we doing out here?" Alexander said. "Because you’ve said that twice and we’re still standing outside an inn at this hour...!"

"I don’t understand why, after three days of being told that the Key was the primary objective of this expedition, you had the Key in one hand while you were managing an unconscious person on uneven terrain."

"Both needed to be managed at the same time, and that responsibility fell to me in that moment."

"That decision confounds me, Alexander."

A pause. "I know," he said. "I can see that."

The table had gone quiet. The sound carried in the same way that it does when a room full of people is listening attentively but without appearing to do so.

"I thought I had it," Alexander said, his voice dropping to a lower tone. It conveyed a genuine attempt to explain rather than to defend himself. "I want you to understand that..."

"It wasn’t carelessness. I had a firm grip on Veylor’s arm, and I thought I had secured my footing..."

"But then the stone shifted beneath my left foot. I overcorrected in response, and in that same motion, the Key slipped loose..." Alexander closed his eyes full of regret. "The entire incident occurred in less than a second."

"I don’t want you to explain the stumble again," Elizabeth said. "Yes, okay, I DO understand the stumble."

"All I want from you is TO explain the decision that made the stumble matter!"

There was silence from Alexander’s side. However, this silence lasted longer than before.

"I wanted to bring it to you myself," he said.

The table’s pretense of not listening took on a distinct quality with those words, resembling a room that has just received crucial information, one that clarifies everything that came before and is now processing it together.

"I wanted to be the one to hand it to you," Alexander said. "Whole. In one piece. After everything. I wanted to place it in your hands."

Rex pressed his lips together very briefly, which was the extent of his expression in a room filled with so many people. On the training ground, in the expedition, in the sealed chamber, he had watched Alexander work and categorized him as genuinely capable, the kind of field mage who had solved problems under pressure and whose instincts under real threat were reliable.

He had also noted, as a separate observation, that Alexander’s instincts in situations involving Elizabeth differed from his instincts in purely operational contexts. They exhibited the unique trait of someone who consistently sensed the gaze of the one individual whose opinion held significance for them.

It was a manageable trait in a partner but a disastrous one for someone tasked with handling an irreplaceable artifact at the conclusion of a canyon expedition.

Rex had calculated both of these things on the way out of the canyon. He had decided that the second quality was the more immediately useful one.

’And of course... when he asked me for the key... I knew his fate was already sealed,’ Rex thought. ’Her fiancé will soon be mine, starting now...’

"I know you wanted to show me," Elizabeth said. "I know that’s what it was..."

"You wanted to be the one who handed it to me, and that’s why it was in your hand instead of secured on your person the way it should have been." The precision in her voice had sharpened to the point where it was no longer managing the thing underneath it so much as cutting around it. "Alexander..."

"I have been your fiancée for three years... I do not need you to impress me with artifacts." Elizabeth said with a low tone. "All I need you to do is not to drop them."

Her words pierced his heart like a sword, and he knew that he had clearly messed this up. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself as he met her gaze.

"T-that’s not fair..." Alexander said. "I wasn’t trying to impress you..."

"I was trying to—"

"You just told me you wanted me to see you holding it."

"There’s a difference between wanting you to see it and trying to impress you."

"I wanted that moment to be special! I wanted to hand it to you specifically, and I wanted it to hold meaning because this expedition was three days of challenges!" Alexander said with gestures. "By the end, I hoped for one meaningful moment where I could give you something that truly mattered."

"The Key mattered," Elizabeth said. "The Key in one piece mattered..."

"That was the thing that would have meant something."

"I know that now."

"You knew it before..." Elizabeth’s expression kept changing, lower and lower. "That’s the part I’m struggling with."

"Elizabeth—"

"Don’t," she said, her voice firm. The single word felt like a door slamming shut. "Don’t try to make it warm right now. I’m not ready for that."

’Oh my fucking lust... this is the most beautiful thing ever because it felt like music to my ears,’ Rex thought and kept his expression entirely neutral. ’He walked right into it...’

’He held the Key in one hand because he wanted her to see him with it, and he told her that himself, and now she’s standing outside a village inn explaining to him why that is a problem.’ He took a piece of bread from the basket. ’I didn’t need to do anything except wait.’

The table was pretending not to listen, though with varying degrees of success. Talyra had found something intriguing to gaze at near the fire. Aisella was eating with the intense focus of someone who had prioritized the food. Nerith’s leaves remained in their still position.

While the others engaged in their own activities, they attempted to avoid making things awkward by exchanging brief glances and small smiles, trying to maintain a sense of normalcy in the tense atmosphere. The air was thick with unspoken thoughts, with each person lost in their own world yet connected by the shared space.