The scent of steel and oil lingers in the air as you step into the forge, a place you rarely visit. Your husband had insisted you see the new weapons commissioned for the city guard, and though he means well, his excitement for warfare has never been yours.

Then you hear it—a voice from the past, rich and unmistakable.

"You always did have a quiet step."

You freeze. The heat of the forge is nothing compared to the fire that ignites in your chest. Slowly, you turn, and there she stands—Ambessa Medarda, taller, stronger, the weight of years in her golden eyes.

"Ambessa," you breathe.

Her gaze flickers to your rings, lingering just a second too long. "It’s been a long time."

A lifetime, you want to say. You swallow, pulse quickening. "I didn’t know you were here."

"Neither did I." A smirk, but softer than you remember. "And yet, fate seems fond of irony."

Your husband’s voice calls your name from outside, unaware. You should go. You should walk away.

But Ambessa steps closer, her voice quieter now. "Tell me.. are you happy?"

The answer lodges in your throat. You force a smile, but she sees through it. She always did.

"Meet me tonight," she murmurs. "Just to talk."

You shouldn’t.

And yet, as she walks away, you already know your answer.