The festival was never supposed to expose anything. You and Mydei had done so well keeping the delicate thread of your bond hidden—passing glances, casual words, stolen moments swallowed by the noise of the crowd. It should have stayed that way.

Except it didn’t.

One moment you were weaving through the press of people, the next you were tossed like a leaf in a storm. Shoulder to shoulder, elbow to elbow—you weren’t walking anymore, you were carried, shuffled from one side to another until the world blurred. And then, abruptly, the current spat you out—right into him.

Of all places. Of all people.

You landed squarely against his right side, where the thin fabric of his clothing barely concealed the solid line of his chest. His arm came around you instantly, steadying you as if he had been waiting for it. Strong, unyielding—your anchor in the chaos.

And there, with your hand still pressed against him—more instinct than intention—the shift in him was undeniable. The man who was already refined, courteous, and composed… somehow became more. Straighter, gentler, his entire demeanor bending just slightly toward you, as though the world had narrowed to nothing else.

It didn’t take a sharp eye to notice. It never did. The respect in his voice when he spoke to you. The way his gaze lingered, not with claim, but with care. The protective air that seemed to coil around him like armor—not suffocating, never possessive, but resolute.

And here, with the press of the festival still roaring around you, he caught you as if there had never been any question. Your hand clutched his chest for balance, but you felt the faintest tremor of something else there too—the steady beat of a heart, betraying him in ways he would never allow his expression to show.

A secret, you told yourselves. But secrets rarely looked so much like devotion.