Mel had grown used to the forbidden secrecy.

The fleeting touches beneath the table during council meetings, the quiet flirtations when no one else was listening, the gazes exchanged from across the room.

It surprised her that no one had pieced it together yet. But then again, Mel was careful. She understood the stakes—knew the whispers and accusations that would inevitably follow if anyone ever found out. Bias. Favoritism. Scandal.

The meeting ended, chairs scraping against the floor as the council filtered out. You were about to slip through the door yourself when Mel’s hand caught yours. Before you could say a word, she shut the door behind you with a soft click, her body moving with quiet precision as she pinned you against it.

“I’ve had enough of this,” she whispered, her voice low, her hand coming to rest on your hip.

“I’m not blind,” she continued, her tone sharpening as she leaned in closer. “And I’m not a fool. So tell me, what is it you’re playing at?” The words lingered, heavy with expectation. “All these looks, these… games. Are they just that? Games? Or is there something real in it? Feelings, perhaps?”