The air around the campfire felt strangely tense. The embers glowed faintly, crackling every so often, while the night wind made the flames sway. Melly glanced at her brother several times, then at Ashtoria. Her eyes brimmed with questions, as if she were trying to read something left unspoken.

Finally, she whispered, “Riven… is there something between you two?”

Riven froze. He turned his head sharply, answering flatly, “No. That’s just your imagination. It’s late. Get some sleep.”

Melly puffed her cheeks, clearly dissatisfied. “Hmm… sounds suspicious,” she muttered, before pulling her blanket over herself and lying down. Before long, her breathing slowed into the rhythm of deep sleep.

Riven risked a glance at Ashtoria. She sat quietly, her face calm as ever, as though nothing at all had happened earlier at the lake. That calmness only made Riven more awkward, unsure of what to say.

He lay back on the cold grass, staring up at the starlit sky. The fire dwindled, leaving only faintly glowing embers. His mind, however, refused to quiet down. Images of Ashtoria’s bare body, her lips, their strange conversation, and the faint scent of roses haunted him endlessly.

When he finally closed his eyes, the scent returned so vividly that he opened them again on instinct. Ashtoria was lying right beside him.

Riven stiffened, wordless. ‘Serious? After everything earlier… she felt no embarrassment at all?’

He scrambled up, grabbed his jacket, and moved to the other side, closer to Melly. With a heavy sigh, he tried to steady himself, closing his eyes and beginning his absorption technique.

Yet once again the fragrance of roses drifted to him. Closer this time, sharp, undeniable, as if it came from right at his side. He opened his eyes, and sure enough, Ashtoria was lying there again.

He turned, glaring at her, voice sharp with irritation. “Why are you following me? Can’t you sleep a little farther away?”

Anyone else might have taken offense, but Ashtoria remained calm, almost cold. She shifted slightly to look at him, her clear red eyes unwavering. “Because I want to be near you,” she said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

The simple answer struck him silent. Something pressed against his chest, whether fear, awe, or something else he could not name.

‘Is she toying with me again?’ he wondered. But her expression was too honest, and after their earlier conversation, it seemed she was simply… far too innocent. That innocence unsettled him more than anything.

Before he could speak, Ashtoria continued, her tone flat but laced with a trace of curiosity. “Why? Do you not like sleeping next to me?”

Riven let out a short huff. “No.”

Ashtoria did not bristle. She simply watched him, then asked with unguarded sincerity, “Why?”

The question tightened Riven’s chest. His breath grew heavier. “Why?” he echoed, leaning closer. “Do you really feel nothing after… what happened at the lake? How can you be so calm about it?”

Ashtoria tilted her head, her crimson hair falling over her shoulder. “Is there something wrong with how I behave? How should I be acting?”

Riven faltered. His mouth opened but no words came. After a long silence, he exhaled heavily, defeated. “There’s nothing wrong. I’m the one overreacting.”

He looked up at the cold sky glittering with stars, then back at the woman beside him. A foolish idea sparked in his mind, a way to test her composure. His lips curved into a faint smile. “Then tell me… why do you want to be near me, Aria? Don’t tell me you… like me?”

It was meant as a tease. Nothing more. But Ashtoria answered without hesitation, her voice even and honest. “I do like you.”

Riven’s heart pounded, as if struck in the chest. He forced his expression to remain neutral though chaos surged inside him. “Oh, really?” he muttered, struggling to hide his surprise. “Hard to believe a noblewoman as beautiful as you could like a peasant like me. In that case… prove it.”

Ashtoria’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if sensing a game behind his words. Yet for some reason she went along, curiosity glinting in her gaze. “What kind of proof?”

A sly smile tugged at Riven’s lips. “Kiss me.”

She repeated the word softly, almost like a whisper. “Kiss?”

Riven nodded, voice deliberately casual. “Yes. Don’t tell me you don’t know. It’s simple. You just press your lips against mine. That’s all.”

“Oh…” Ashtoria breathed, as though finally understanding. Her face remained calm, but her eyes narrowed faintly, weighing his words. “That’s all.”

Riven expected her to scoff, to decline, to delay. Never in his wildest thoughts did he believe she would actually do it. Yet no sooner had he spoken than Ashtoria leaned forward. No hesitation, no shyness, no theatrics.

Their lips met.

The world stopped.

It was brief. Simple. No urgency, no desperate passion. But the tenderness of it nearly stopped his heart. Riven froze, unable to move. To him, it was not merely a touch—it was the collapse of his walls, an intimacy he had never known, not even in his past life.

When Ashtoria pulled away, her face remained unchanged. No blush, no shy smile. She simply looked at him and said calmly, “There. I’ve done what you asked. So… don’t leave me again.”

Riven went rigid. Her words struck harder than the kiss itself. His chest felt gripped in an unseen hand.

‘That… was my first kiss. Two lives, and this is the first time.’

While he struggled to steady his breathing, Ashtoria studied him in silence. Then, unexpectedly, her lips curved. A rare smile—gentle, genuine, almost playful. “Your face looks strange,” she remarked lightly, as though teasing him.

Riven jerked. “Strange? Me?” He tried to mask his fluster with forced authority. “Funny you call my face strange when yours is the one turning red. Your cheeks are burning… honestly, you look even more beautiful now than you usually do.”

And so Riven began showering her with praise, one after another, until it became absurd.

This time, it was Ashtoria who faltered. Her face burned bright against her pale skin. She quickly turned away, back facing him, letting her crimson hair fall like a curtain to hide her expression.

Riven’s lips curved in quiet triumph, pleased with his small victory. He lay down as well, turning his back so that they faced away from each other.

The fire crackled softly, the night wind swept across the grass, and the stars filled the sky. Yet the silence between them was not empty—it pulsed with unspoken heartbeats, thick with feelings neither dared to name.

Riven closed his eyes, but his mind would not rest. Every time he tried to clear his thoughts, the memory of Ashtoria’s lips returned. The brief touch lingered on his own, etched too deeply to shake off. He bit down lightly, as if to ground himself against the nervous energy swirling inside.

Beside him, Ashtoria didn’t fall asleep right away either. Her back felt warm, even without touching Riven’s. Her face was still flushed, though she tried hard to steady her breathing. In her heart, there was a strange feeling she had never known before.

Riven let out a deep breath, trying to push all those thoughts aside. He placed one hand on his stomach and the other at his side. Lying on his back as usual, he began channeling mana. Not to strengthen his body this time, but to calm his mind.

The cold night air seeped slowly into him. His breathing steadied. His heartbeat slowed. He didn’t know how much time had passed.

Then, without realizing it, the world around him faded, and he drifted into sleep. A dream appeared—of a man who looked familiar, almost like himself, standing in the sky. Once more, that man split the world apart, the very ground beneath him shattering until Riven fell into a vast emptiness.

He woke with a start, drenched in cold sweat, and immediately sensed that something was wrong.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep