accidentally yours | claude de alger obelia

in denial

the next few days passed with an uncomfortable sort of tightrope tension.

evie could feel it - the way the air shifted when claude entered the apothecary during athanasia's lessons, the way his gaze seemed heavier somehow. it wasn't cold, exactly. not the sharp dismissal she was used to.

it was worse.

because now, he hesitated.

sometimes, she'd catch him almost speaking, only for him to close his mouth again and turn away. sometimes, he'd watch her - too long, too closely - as if she were a puzzle he couldn't solve.

and evie, stubbornly, tried not to notice.

instead, she threw herself into work. she helped maerin prepare tinctures. she taught athanasia how to identify monster herbs. she bandaged elias when he predictably fell out of a tree again.

but claude...

he hovered at the edges, silent, brooding.

once, while passing her in the hallway, his shoulder brushed hers by accident. evie flinched - not from fear, but from the startling crackle of awareness that zipped up her spine. claude stiffened too but said nothing, striding away like nothing had happened.

and evie stood there, heart hammering against her ribs, cursing herself.

he doesn't care.
he can't.
he won't.

still, the question twisted inside her: then why does it feel like he does?

one afternoon, under the wide-open windows of the apothecary, evie found herself distractedly stirring a healing salve when felix strolled in,

"seems lively here today," he said.

"only because i'm about to get scolded by maerin," evie said without looking up.

felix barked a laugh - and true enough, maerin's voice could be heard scolding someone down the hall a second later.

"sharp as always," he said, grinning.

evie hummed but didn't really hear him.

she was thinking about the letter that had arrived that morning, heavy with the imperial seal - a formal invitation to attend the suncrest autumn festival as honored guests of the estate.

all of them.

even the emperor.

mira had been buzzing about it all morning, already plotting outfits and dances.

evie... wasn't sure how she felt.

she hadn't gone to a festival in years. not since-

her hands stilled, salve forgotten.

"evie?"

she blinked up at felix.

"you alright?" he asked, real concern threading through his usual teasing tone.

"yeah," she said automatically. "fine."

but felix wasn't the only one watching.

at the doorframe, silent as a shadow, claude leaned, unreadable.

their eyes met.

the breath caught painfully in evie's chest.

there was something raw there - something she wasn't ready to name.

then claude pushed off the doorframe and left, cloak whispering against the floorboards.

evie stared after him, heart twisting tighter.