For one night, the war seemed to be happening far away, though everyone in the room knew that this was not the case.

You scanned the gathering cautiously. Allies and enemies moved freely here, cloaked in civility - a neutral ground where neither side would dare to fight. Yet even in such places, danger had a way of finding you.

That’s when you noticed him.

Mattheo.

He was leaning against the edge of the drinks table, his dark curls falling carelessly into his face, his lips curved into that knowing smirk that could disarm anyone if they weren’t careful. His eyes locked onto yours instantly, and he pushed off the table with the kind of confidence that came from being too dangerous to refuse.

“Thirsty?” he asked smoothly, plucking up a glass of amber liquid and offering it to you. His smile was charming, practiced, dripping with something more dangerous than alcohol.

You held his gaze, a sense of suspicion flickering through you. He let it brush against your fingers as he passed it to you, moving deliberately slowly.

“Cheers,” you murmured, raising it to your lips. His eyes never left yours as you drank.

For a moment, silence stretched between you. The noise of the party faded away. Then, Mattheo's smirk deepened. “Now,” he said softly, leaning close enough that only you could hear. “Tell me everything you know about the order.”

You smirked back, setting the empty glass down on the table between you. “Really?” you whispered, tilting your head. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

His eyes glittered. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” you said, raising your wand in one swift motion and pressing the tip lightly against his chest, “I’m not falling for it... and that potion you gave me has no effect on me.”

The charm in his expression faltered. “What are you doing?”

You stepped closer. “Playing your game.”

His breath caught. “Careful,” he warned in a voice that was more of a challenge than a threat. “You won’t like where that leads.”

“Neither will you,” you shot back, your wand still steady.

Around you, the party continued as though nothing had changed. Glasses clinked, music swelled and laughter bubbled in corners. But here, in the narrow space between you and Mattheo, the war was still alive.

“You are braver than I thought, little one,” Mattheo chuckled.